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“Hot damn, girl. Too bad you need the money for your dad. We could go on a hell of a vacation.”
“Is it bad that part of me wants to do that? Or just like, take the money and go get an apartment in the city and go to work for your dad and just let my father deal with his shit himself?”
“Nobody would blame you if you did exactly that.”
“I would blame me,” Lottie said with a sigh. “I can’t just leave him, Frankie. I’m all he has.”
“I know, honey. Which is why you’re going to suck it up and let this guy pop your cherry. And who knows, if he’s a Dom from the club, he might even make it good for you.”
“Yeah right.” Rolling her eyes, Lottie snorted. “Guys who are that good in bed don’t have to pay for it.”
“Fair point. Have you heard from him yet?”
“Let me check.” Heart pounding against her ribs, Lottie opened her email. And promptly had to swallow back the rising bile. “Fuck. He wants to meet, like, tomorrow.”
Frankie let out a low whistle. “Well, I guess that makes sense. If you’d spent that much money on something, you’d want to get your hands on it as soon as possible.”
“Way to make me feel like a piece of merchandise, Frankie.”
“Sorry. But you know what I mean.”
“I do.” And as tempting as it was to keep putting the guy off, she figured it was a bit like ripping off a band aid. Best to just do it and get it over with.
Especially since she could only put him off for two weeks before she forfeited her payment and got hit with that ten-thousand-dollar fee.
Dammit.
Scanning the rest of the email, Lottie blew out a relieved breath. “Okay. He wants to meet at the club first. He says there’s a restaurant on the top floor where we can have a drink and get to know each other a bit first. So as long as Mr. Elliott doesn’t try to kick me out, that should be a good place to meet, right?”
“Definitely. And I seriously doubt he’s going to kick you out.”
“All right. I’m going to email Master O back, then.”
She typed out a quick response, agreeing to meet him at nine the next evening, and added in a little bit of fluff about how excited she was to meet him even though what she was feeling felt more like dread than excitement. And, before she completely lost her nerve, hit send.
“I did it. Holy shit, I did it.”
“Breathe, Lottie, breathe.”
“I am. At least, I think I am. But I can’t believe I’m actually doing this.”
“Still don’t want me to come over?”
“I’m okay. I’m going to go downstairs and pour myself a glass of wine, and then figure out what the fuck I’m supposed to wear to get my cherry popped.”
“Something white and innocent-looking. Might as well play up the fantasy.”
“I hate how much sense that makes. Ugh. I’ll talk to you later.”
“Give me a call if you change your mind and want me to come over. We can get drunk and see if we can find him on social media.”
Snorting out a laugh, Lottie shook her head. “I love you.”
“Love you too, babe. You better call me afterward and give me all the dirty deets!”
“Duh.”
Feeling somewhat steadier, Lottie ended the call and hopped off her bed, deliberately ignoring her laptop. If ‘Master O’ needed anything else from her, he could wait until she’d had a glass of wine. Or three.
