Taylor wouldn’t badger London about her boyfriend project anymore. She recognized that her friend needed an outlet to vent her frustrations more than she needed a hobby these days.
“Oh!” London exclaimed, jumping up from the sofa. “Before I forget. Someone left these in the break room at the hospital.” She unsnapped her mustard-yellow Tory Burch clutch and pulled out a business card. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but based on past conversations, I thought maybe you’d want to give it a try.” She handed Taylor the card.
“Who is the Debt Defeater?”
“Someone who helps you defeat debt,” London said. Theduhwas silent. “I checked out the website. Apparently, they help you negotiate down your debt. It couldn’t hurt.”
Taylor was tempted. She wassotempted. But she could hear the Colonel in her head, scolding her about shirking her obligations and not holding herself accountable. If there was one thing that had been drilled in her head from birth, it was that you took responsibility for your actions.
“As much as I would love someone to just wipe away my debt, it wouldn’t be right,” she said. “I accumulated those bills fair and square, and I made some shitty business decisions along the way.” She shrugged. “I have to deal with the consequences. At least the money I’m making with Jamar will pay off most of it.”
“Sixteen thousand will only pay offmostof it? So you weren’t joking before when you said you were twenty thousand in debt?” London asked. She held up her hands. “Not that I’m judging.”
“It kinda sounds like you’re judging,” Samiah said.
“It’s okay.” Taylor laughed. She could do that more easily now that she had a clear path to digging her way out of this hole she’d been in for the past few years.
“I already told you guys about signing up for that coupon site. Well, because my rates were so reduced, I started putting things on credit cards. Then I bought all that merch to give away as ‘free’ advertising, but I didn’t get nearly the number of clients I thought I would.”
“Well, what about the money from YouTube?” Samiah asked. “I thought you said going viral over that mess with Craig sent a bunch of people to your YouTube channel? Don’t you make money based on the number of views you get?”
“Yeah, about that . . . Did you know when you’re self-employed you have to pay your income taxes every three months?”
“It’s called estimated taxes,” London said.
“I wish someone had clued me in. I didn’t even know I had to pay taxes on the money I made from YouTube.”
“Girl, you don’t play around when it comes to the IRS,” Samiah said.
“I know thatnow, but only after meeting my archenemies: penalties and interest.”
“Shit, Taylor,” London said. “No wonder you’ve been stressed. Maybe you should try hooking up with your fake boyfriend after all. You know, for medicinal purposes.”
“As if I need an excuse to hook up with him,” she said.
“Wait a minute now,” Samiah said, sitting up straight. “What are you not telling us?”
“Nothing,” Taylor lied. But what was the point innottelling them? In about three seconds it would look as though she were storing maraschino cherries in her cheeks. Stupid blush.
“Fine, okay. Maybe something happened,” she admitted.
“Did you already sleep with him?” London asked.
“No!” Taylor screeched. “May I remind you both that I am a professional? I cannot sleep with a client, no matter how much I want to.”
“So you admit you want to,” London said, as if she’d uncovered some big secret.
“Have you seen her client?” Samiah asked.
“Exactly! Have youseenhim?” Taylor said. “Of course I want him. I want to screw him until his dick falls off. Then I want to put his dick back on and screw him again. But I can’t, because I’m a fucking professional.”
She picked up the wine and took a swig straight from the bottle.
“Honey, did you buy that vibrator like I told you to?” London asked.
“Yes, I bought a new vibrator,” Taylor said. “And to answer your question, no I did not sleep with my client. But I did kiss him. And it wasn’t a fake kiss to go along with our fake relationship. It was arealkiss. With tongue. And my legs around his waist. And I can’t stop thinking about it.” She slapped her palm to her forehead. “I don’t know what I’m going to do.”
“So why did things stop at a kiss?” Samiah asked.
