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I snap a picture of her and hand her phone back.
“Thank you.” She looks at the screen and taps in something. “There. All uploaded.” Her phone chimes almost instantly, and she giggles. “He likes it. Thank you, Logan.”
She slides her phone into her purse and blinks at me innocently like she didn’t send a picture of her tits in her new dress to another guy when she’s on a date with me.
“Oh.” She bats a hand in the air with a giggle as she takes in my frown. “He’s not a boyfriend or anything. Don’t worry. Humpy’s just a friend.”
“Is he like a camel you sponsor from the zoo or something?”
Sandy giggles more, oblivious to my souring mood as I take a sip of my wine.
“Humphrey.” She rolls her eyes before her gaze homes in on the gleaming Rolex on my wrist as I lower my glass back to the table.
“He’s one of my sponsors,” she adds as I look at her blankly. “You know… from BuyMyBreasts?”
“Buy my—?”
“Breasts.” She smiles at me and gives her chest a little shimmy. “I would have been saving months to pay for surgery myself. My sponsors got me to target in six weeks. Can you believe it?”
I stare at her as she bounces in her seat.
“Strangers bought you your breasts?”
Pride brings a blush to her cheeks as she nods.
“Amazing, isn’t it? People are so generous.” Her eyes cast down over my suit as she reaches for my hand on the table again.
I sit, stunned, as she entwines her fingers with mine.
“You don’t mind, do you?” She rubs a long nail over my skin, making the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. “I know I said Humpy owns seventy-five percent. But I was teasing. He knows only my boyfriends get to touch them.”
Except me, a virtual stranger who you invited to squeeze them in public.
“Right.” I take a slow breath, rolling my lips and glancing around for the server.
“He’s happy as long as I still send photos. All my sponsors are. You’re okay with that though, aren’t you? I mean, that’s kind of how we met. You liked those photos I sent you, didn’t you?” She bats her eyelashes, and I tug at my shirt collar.
When the fuck did it get so stuffy in here?
A stiletto glides up my calf, and I jump in my seat before clearing my throat.
Sandy smiles. “Shall we get going? Maybe I can come back to your place and you can show me your designs for Vick?”
My jaw clenches and I slide my hand away from beneath hers.
“Vex. It’s called Vex.”
“I’ve never seen a rocket engine before. I thought they’d be, like, solar powered or something. You know, to be echo-friendly.”
“Eco-friendly,” I grit and look for a server to settle the bill.
Sandy chatters incessantly as I pay, help her into her coat, and guide her outside.
She only stops when I hold a cab door open for her to slide into and stay standing on the street.
“Aren’t you coming?”
“Can’t.” I feign utter regret, holding her gaze. “I have an early meeting.”
