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Are you trying to fool her—or fool yourself?
Michelle giggled, the sound of her laughter making me grit my teeth. “Forty-five is not old, Lola, and if you say he’s cuteandforty-five? Hello, daddy issues!” Michelle laughed again. “Christ, I could use me some fucking inappropriate father figure action myself. Brent isnotgetting it done lately.”
Brent, Michelle’s longtime boyfriend, used to be my roommate, too. Along with Michelle. But like so many of my friends, their drug problem had gotten worse and worse. Luckily, neither one of them did hard drugs, but they smoked enough fucking weed to burn the house down. Even though our landlord had told us on more than one occasion that if he caught us doing it, he wouldn’t stop at just evicting us—he’d call the cops on us too.
It was fucking lame, I mean it was just weed, but I had to agree with the landlord. And it wasn’t something that I wanted to live with. The biggest problem was they were the last of my friends who I could trust to even consider allowing to live in the same house with me.
“Well, maybe I’ll give you Mr. Winters’ number. Just in case you and Brent don’t work out.” Michelle and I both laughed at that. “Seriously though, he’s… kind of an asshole. Like abigasshole.”
“But he’s the kind of asshole whospanks.” Michelle was silent for a moment. “What about the rest of him. Does he have a big cock? Does he know how to touch you?”
I didn’t really want to answer those questions, and it wasn’t because I was afraid of what to tell her. I really didn’t know, honestly. But from what I could feel under me as he was spanking me, I guessed he was quite generously equipped indeed.
God, you sound like a fucking grandma!
“Michelle,fuck, it’s not like that. It’s not what I’m doing here. I mean, this is potentially a lot of money. And I am not exactly rolling in loot. So, maybe I should do it?”
“Look, Lola, I’m not here to fucking give you shit about this. I’m happy for you, seriously I am. But maybe you should think this through, you know? This guy, he’s rich, right?”
“Judging by what I saw in his house, he’s got more money than he knows what to do with. Kind of crazy, actually.”
“Well, you said it just now, actually. You need to turn on your fucking safety meter. What if this guy’s a freaking psycho? I mean, it’s not the first time some rich guy, bored with life, decides to go off the deep end and lure young women to his house to do God knows what to.”
I didn’t have the courage to tell her that the phrase ‘God knows what to’ had visited all kinds of imagery in my mind about what Mr. Winters might end up wanting to do to me.
Some of it was scary. Some of it was definitelynotscary.
Have you lost your mind?
“It’s really all probably academic anyway, Michelle. He… what he told me yesterday made it pretty clear to me that this is not going to work out for me. Good money or not. So, I think what I’m going to do is just tell him no. Right? Just say no, and just move on with my life. I mean, I still have a job even though he wants me to quit it.”
Even over the phone I could tell Michelle got suddenly quite tense. “Wait, the dude told you to quit your job? What the fuck is going on here, Lola? Don’t you think this is a little weird? A little sudden? I mean, you barely know the fucking guy.”
I shook my head slowly, hating that she was right. “It does suck though. That kind of money could really change things around for me. Shit. It would take mesolong working my job now to make anything close to that money. I’m sure Mr. Winters knows that too. But you’re right, I mean, this is stupid. This is not a good idea, and I’m just going to tell him thanks, but no thanks.”
“I think that’s really the only smart thing to do,” Michelle said, her voice softening ever so slightly. “Something else will come along, Lola. This sounds… more than a little sketchy.”
The irony wasn’t lost on me at hearing the almost perpetually high Michelle label anything in such a way, but now wasn’t the time to call her on it.
The door to the waiting room opened, the stocky, deeply tanned Patrick walking in, wiping his hands with a dirty off-yellow hand towel. “She’s all ready to go, unless you need anything else from me.”
Patrick, the owner of the place, would have been just the kind of guy I would have gone for earlier in my life maybe even just a year ago, his close-cropped dark hair, attractive eyes, and stocky, muscular build something that I would normally be unable to resist.
But for some reason he did nothing for me now, and I couldn’t help but notice that when I thought of attractive men, or a masculine figure that aroused me, one face kept popping into my mind.
Mr. Winters.
I think you’re twitterpated or something. You definitely need to take care of this before it gets worse.
Standing up, I offered him my hand, giving him my most courteous smile. “Thank you, Patrick. But I think I’ve got all I need.”
CHAPTER11
Ellis
I’d already cracked open a bottle of bourbon after a long phone call with one of my biggest contractor partners, Williams and Schaffer—and the day was only half over.
The 10-Ks, D&B reports, and financial analysis deep dives were spread all over my desk. For the millionth time I wondered why I didn’t just pay an accountant or an actuarial—or maybe even a data analyst—to go over this shit, but the fact was I didn’t trust anyone else to do it the wayIdid it.
