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Like she was one to talk about mental health. Ha.
Still, sometimes she felt like a therapist. Wasn’t listening what therapists spent most of their time doing? From all the hours she’d spent listening to guys unload, she ought to have some sort of counseling license ten times over.
“It wasn’t pretty,” Oliver admitted. “She wasn’t happy. She threatened she’d hurt herself if I didn’t stay.”
God, that sounded horrible. Was it any wonder this guy had trouble making connections in the real world? “I’m so sorry, Olly. You know those are just her manipulation tactics though, right? She’s the only person responsible for her own happiness. She has your path and you have yours. You aren’t responsible for anyone else’s journey but your own.” It was something Sloane told herself often enough.
“I know. It took me so long to see her for what she really is. And you were the one who helped me with that. I can’t thank you enough, Chrissy.”
“You’re welcome, Olly. I’m so glad you’re in a better place now. Have you found a place to stay?”
“I’m working on it. But I mean it, Chrissy. None of it would have been possible without you. And I’ve been wanting to tell you something for a while now.”
His loud intake of breath came across the line. “You’re so beautiful and perfect and I just— You’re perfect and—”
He broke off again until he finally finished in a rush, “—and I love you. I know I’ve said it before. But I really mean it this time. Like for real. I really love you.”
Sloane turned back to the sink and turned on the faucet to rinse out her bowl. Oliver had been saying he loved her more and more lately. Ignoring him seemed to be the best way to deal with it.
Clients confessing their love was fairly common. All the other cam-girl friends Sloane had made online said the same thing happened to them. Sometimes it was the guys shouting it out right before they climaxed but more often it was the talkers like Oliver.
“Did you catch the latest episode of—”
“Did you hear me?” Oliver interrupted her. “I said I love you. I know you must hear that all the time, but I mean it. This is different. I want to meet you. In real life. We could move in together.”
Sloane paused, warm water rushing over her hand holding the clean bowl. She pursed her lips and then turned off the water, setting the bowl in the drying rack.
“We’ve talked about this before, Oliver.”
“Olly,” he admonished. “You know I like it when you call me Olly.”
She turned from the sink and sat down at the table, trying to think of how to put what she needed to say. Oliver was a good client. He booked hour-long sessions and sometimes, if their conversations were going well, he’d push it for another half-hour block. It was easy money.
She listened to him complain about his mother or they talked about TV he liked. She watched his shows so she could discuss them with him. But if he kept pushing this see-her-in-real-life-thing, she’d have to drop him as a client. She’d only had to do it twice before in her three years on the job and it was never a fun prospect.
She looked into the camera. “We’ve talked about this before. Boundaries are important to me. I need to—”
“At least tell me what state you live in. I just want to know how close I am to you.”
Sloane shook her head. “You know I live in Florida—”
“That’s just what you put on your profile.” He was right. She lived in Oklahoma.
His normally soft, easy tone went hard. “I know it’s not where you really live.” Then he turned wheedling again. “Please, Chrissy. Give me something.”
Sloane sighed. “Oliver, I—”
“Olly.”
“Olly. I like what we have now. It’s good as is. I’d hate to lose it.” She looked in the camera then, hoping he’d pick up on what she meant without her having to say it explicitly.
“What’s your real name?”
She sighed and stood up. He was determined to be difficult.
“Oli—”
“The first letter.”
She shook her head. “It’s important for me to keep my personal and my professional life sep—” There was a click and Sloane frowned. “Oliver? Olly?” She walked over to her phone on the counter and saw he’d ended the call.
One glance over at the computer showed he was still connected to the feed though. The little token counter in the corner still rose every ten seconds.
Olly still had the hour, so as long as he stayed and paid, she wasn’t going to complain. Though she had a feeling it was just putting off the inevitable.
He was a sweet guy, and lonely. He didn’t sound like he got out much and yeah, she might have let that cloud her judgement a little, occasionally letting down the wall of strict separation between professional and personal.
