5
BARBARA
Seb is hot—likehot. Well, at least his body is. I zoom in again, my tongue practically lolling out of my mouth as I imagine licking those sculpted abs. When I zoom out, I frown again at the glowing neon mask. Famous, my ass. I bet he’s married. Or maybe even a felon. After what happened in Emily’s building, I wouldn’t be surprised if I saw him on the news.
But how would you recognize him, you idiot?
“Shut up, me,” I grumble at my inner voice.
What am I going to do? I should totally block him. No good can come out of this.
But he’s so charming! And look at that body, yum, yum!
“Yeah,” I sigh. Great, now he has me talking to myself. Out loud, even, like some crazy person.
I look at my hot pink smart watch. He’s probably going to be online soon. I either log ontoFaery Nightsor I don’t. Before I can click the icon on my laptop, my phone goes off in my hand.Seb calling.
Fuck! What do I do?
“Ah, Jesus,” I whisper before I slide the bar with shaking hands. “H—hi?”
“Hi, yourself, beautiful,” Sebastian’s smooth voice comes through. “How was your day?”
Pushing my hair out of my face, I lean back in my chair and close my eyes.
“It was alright,” I murmur. “The kids were a handful, as usual. How about yours? You said you had work to do?”
Work that kept you from texting me after we exchanged pictures.
“Would have been better if you were sitting on my lap,” comes his silky reply.
I bite down on my lip. “Would you have gotten any work done, though?” I ask quietly.
His laugh is like fine whiskey. “Probably not. But it’d be worth it.”
I don’t know what to reply, so I just huff out a nervous chuckle.
He doesn’t let the silence linger. “What are your plans for the rest of the week?”
“Oh,” I breathe, grateful for the branch. “My friend, the one who’s getting married? She has her rehearsal dinner this Saturday. She’s old-fashioned, even though her husband-to-be is grumbling to no end, it’s hilarious,” I continue. “I need to buy a nice dress. And then you know how it goes.”
“Do I?” he asks, the smile in his voice evident.
I laugh and roll my eyes at myself. “Okay, maybe youdon’tknow. But a girl buys a new dress, so she needs new shoes, and then maybe a clutch and some jewelry. It’s a chain of events meant to devastate my bank account.”
“I’ll pay for it,” he says so smoothly that I think I imagined it. He said it like he’s my boyfriend—or my sugar daddy—and like it’s so commonplace that I shouldn’t even raise an eyebrow at it. But what the fuck? He barely knows me!
“Don’t be ridiculous,” I reply, shaking my head even though he can’t see me.
“Why not,” he murmurs. “I have more money than I know what to do with and no one to spend it on.” Maybe he doesn’t have a wife? No married man could bring himself to say that if his other half had two hundred Manolos in her closet. “All I ask for is a few pictures of you wearing the outfit. Simple.”
My throat clicks when I swallow. I’m still paying off my student loan. Paying for a new outfit would hurt, even if I always go off the rack.
“I… I can’t accept that, Seb,” I say with a bit of regret. “You hardly know me.”
“So, let’s change that,” he replies instantly, completely unfazed. “Tell me everything about yourself. Everything you haven’t told me yet. And while you’re at it, tell me your Venmo handle.”
I laugh with disbelief. Whoisthis man?
