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Layla looks taken aback by my tirade, so I try to soften my expression. “I don’t mean to be an ass, but I really care about what I do. It means something to me.”
It does. I’m not bullshitting her. Sex is fucking important. Good sex especially. Vital, really. I don’t know why she thinks my show is obscene, but I suddenly want to show her just how important my job can be. If she could only see behind the scenes, I know she’d come around.
Wait. Back up there. Was that just a genius idea or what? Fuck yes, that's exactly what I’m going to do.
“Layla,” I say, much calmer now that I know just what I’m going to do. About the fine. About Layla. About the raging hard-on I desperately need to attend to. “ACL is about to go on a 4-week filming hiatus. Why don’t you stick around for a while and see how we prepare for the next episode. If you still feel the same way about the show then as you do now, I’ll pay the seven-million-dollar fine.”
Seven million dollars is nothing to laugh at, but it’s almost a drop in the bucket compared to the money I’ve made on my show. It’s the principle of it that gets me. All these people who want to be so self-righteous about sex. Fuck that.
Layla considers my offer as she watches me, and I can practically see the wheels turning. She wants to know my angle. Thing is, there is none. I totally believe everything I’ve said.
“You realize the fine is per incident?” she asks with a smirk.
Fuck.
“Fine. Not a problem.”
No fucking way will I pay that fine. I’m going to convince Layla one way or another that there’s nothing obscene about what I do. And getting in her panties sounds like the perfect place to start pleading my case. My cock couldn’t agree more.
