I can’t blame momma for putting off the call, because, as she would say, I tend to act like a mother hen.
My phone pings again, and I look, hoping for a text from Samantha, but instead, I find a form sent from Natasha.
I click into it, figuring it has something to do with work. An image of Bianca pops up with the wordsMake Me An Offerto the right of it.
Did she seriously make a sex application?
My eyes practically bulge straight out of their sockets as I read through the form.
“Looks like she’s just about smashed Carl’s number one rule,” Vanessa says with a smirk.
“If you ask me, a woman stating exactly what she wants, leaving no room for misinterpretation, is the opposite of drama,” Prince says.
Clearly annoyed, Vanessa shoots back, “We’ll see what Carl thinks when you guys start acting like cavemen around her.”
“Yeah, that’s not going to happen,” I say under my breath.
“I didn’t realize you enjoyed sharing,” Vanessa scoffs.
“Did you even read the list?” I say. “We work hard enough as it is, and with the way her little form makes it sound, it’ll be like taking on a second job.”
“Yeah,” Kilo adds. “We’re not exactly hard up for pussy, so why put in the effort?”
“I see no harm in applying,” Jacek says, with a glint of mischief in his eye. “Must be available most nights for a variety of sexually related activities—heck, yeah.”
Carl storms backstage. “Ten minutes until go time! It’s a new venue, so be mindful of the edge of the stage.”
The show flies by, though worry settles in throughout the night as I think about Samantha and Maria, and how they’re both strong-willed women.
Maybe I’d been optimistic when I sent Samantha my sister’s resume. A little too hopeful.
They could end up hating each other.
The VIPs seem to sense that something’s off with me and try to cheer me up. I play along, turning up the charm a notch, andthey practically melt, which makes me damn happy, because I love putting smiles on their faces.
Vanessa signals that it’s time to leave, and I go to the bus and put on poker videos to help me relax.
The guys are talking about Bianca’s sex form, and I can’t help but feel bad for the girl, especially given her broken engagement.
The bus goes dead silent. I look up and see her stepping onto the bus.
“I don’t suppose you have a part-time position available?” a new Hunk named Clint says.
“What’s wrong? Can’t keep up?” she shoots back.
“Don’t worry,” Jacek says. “I got you covered.”
“Actually, I don’t think I’ll be needing your services,” she says.
Offended, Jacek snaps, “Why the hell not?”
She pulls out her phone and faces it toward him. “I’d rather not drown in buckets of cum, thank you very much. But having a teacher’s certification, I will say this, I’m pleased you knew the correct spelling of cum in its noun form.”
“What the hell does that mean?” I blurt, confused.
“Come is typically either a verb or a noun. When using it to describe man-juice, it’s a noun and should be spelt c-u-m. When using it as a verb, it’s spelt c-o-m-e.”
Carl laughs, and even I have to admit, she’s clever.
