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My hair was damp with sweat from practice, and I shivered in the cool air. Zipping my sweatshirt closed over my sports bra, I pulled the hood over my head.
“How far are you willing to go for money?” I asked abruptly.
“Excuse me?” His mouth hung open.
“Why do you deal?” I leaned toward him, one hand on the bench. “It’s dangerous. It’s illegal. You’re smart; you could make money lots of other ways. So why are you putting yourself on the line for a buck?”
“Lady Christina…” Marcus said softly. “You’re getting intense on me.”
“I want to understand.”
“Understand what, exactly?”
“Money,” I said airily. “Earning it. In ways that are not so traditional. Or socially acceptable.”
He stared at me. “How’d we get here from talking about love?”
“I don’t have love, okay? I just have money. And a particular way to earn it.”
“What does that mean?”
I held his gaze and said nothing.
“Christina?” He squinted, uncertain.
“What do you think it means?” My voice dropped.
He let out a brief laugh. “Well, the first thing that came to mind is selling your body, to which I’d say, ‘What the fuck, Ms. Congeniality?’ Get a job at the mall.”
“Funny, Marky,” I blurted. I wanted to wipe that smile off his face. “But let me tell you, afterbeing a companion, I’m never going back to a retail job.”
His eyes widened, and his hat dangled from his hand. He was speechless. My cheeks flamed.
“You can’t tell anyone.” I locked eyes with him. “I swear you can’t tell anyone.”
“You’re saying you’re…aprostitute?”
“It’s not like that.”
“Oh?” he sputtered. “You’re, you’re a classy escort?”
“I told you, I’m acompanion. I’m with one guy. It’s ongoing.”
His hat fell to his lap. “Okay. All right. So you found yourself a sugar daddy. You’re not the first and you won’t be the last.”
“It’s not exactly like that either.”
“Then what’s it like?”
“He doesn’t buy me things.” I hugged my knees, which were covered with goosebumps below my spandex shorts. I couldn’t believe I was having this conversation. I couldn’t believe how much I wanted to. “But he spoils me. He makes really delicious breakfasts. He makes sure I’m happy, even if he does it in — twisted ways.” Marcus coughed, and I hurried on. “He’s weirdly thoughtful, actually. It’s the perfect arrangement. We know when we’re going to see each other and when we’re not. When we’re together, we focus on each other completely. There’s no questions or confusion. None of the mess that comes with a boyfriend. Boyfriends suck.”
“And you’re in love with him,” Marcus put in.
“No! That would be ridiculous. I’ve just been — forgetting about the money sometimes.” I flipped back my hood and shook my hair out of its ponytail.
“So you don’t need it.”
“No, I do,” I muttered. “Anyway, when I said I was in love, I just meant that I was happy. People get too attached to being in love. It’s overrated.”
