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“Actually, Rust doesn’t even pay me,” I said. “He tried, don’t get me wrong, but I thought just staying at his house was payment enough.”
“Wait, so how are you supporting yourself? You’re not still waiting tables, are you?”
“No.” My heart hammered in my chest, but I did my best to stay calm. “I started a business of my own last year. I’ve been doing well.Reallywell, actually, which is why I decided to take time off of school and make some money.”
“No kidding?” For a moment, his anger over me dropping out of school evaporated, replaced by a pleasant surprise. “Izzy, I had no idea. What kind of business is it?”
“It’s an internet business.”
“Meaning …?”
“Well, you’ve heard of OnlyFans, right?”
He stared at me as if he were waiting for a punchline. But when he realized I wasn’t joking, he buried his face in his hands.
“Izzy.No,” he said at last. “No, no, no.Please,for the love of God, tell me you’re not on that site.”
“It’s good money, Dad.”
“Are you fucking serious? You’re not pulling my leg right now?”
“It’s not a joke. I made sixty grand in my best month.”
“I don’t care how much money you make—it’s not worth it!” He panicked, drawing short and shallow breaths. “Holy fuck. Oh God! My daughter’s on OnlyFans?!No!”
“Dad. Please calm down.”
“How can I becalmwhen you’re telling me you’re getting naked on the internet for strangers?! Do you have any idea what this could do to your future?”
“Idon’tget naked, actually.”
“No? I guess people are paying you sixty grand a month to see your amazing personality, then?”
“Look, yes, I post sexy photos, but I haven’t posted a single nude picture, ever. So I can’t see how it would harm my future.”
“Sexy photos, meaning you’re in your underwear, right?”
“Sometimes, yes,” I said. “Dresses, gym outfits, swimsuits, underwear. Anything cute or fashionable or sexy.”
“Great, great. So do you think your future husband will be thrilled to know that there’s photos of you in your underwear floating around on the internet?”
“Well, if he was a good man—the kind of man I want to marry—I imagine he’d be okay with it.”
“Yeah. Right,” he tutted, and rolled his eyes. “What would your mother say if she knew?”
“Well—” I took a deep breath. “Mom knows, actually.”
“What?” he gasped, his features contorting in pain as if he’d been stabbed in the back. “Since when?”
“I told her a year ago, when I first started making lots of money.”
“Ayearago!” He gasped. “And what’d she say?”
I shrugged. “She wasn’t wild about it at first. But once I told her how much money I’m making, she understood.”
“What else did you tell her? Does she know you’re not in school anymore?”
I shook my head. “No, I haven’t told her that yet.”
