“What are you going to do at the end, Troy?”
I shrugged. “All I wanted was to return home with enough money to help my parents retire.”
“How about you? What do you want for yourself?”
I smiled as the image of Alexi lying on the grass of the gardens at the royal palace came to mind.
“What I want can’t be bought with money.”
Marco’s phone ringing put an end to the conversation.
“Thanks, Annie. Send him in.” He put the phone down, and a moment later, our head of cyber security came into the office.
I turned and leaned against the window ledge.
“We may have a problem,” Hassan said, tapping something on his tablet before turning it toward us.
“What’s this?” Marco asked.
“Rumors are going around about a secret company helping millionaires get hookups, fake marriages, escorts, you name it.”
Marco looked at me, and I shook my head.
“Everyone we employ signs an iron-clad NDA. Could this come from a client?” I asked.
“We’re investigating. It could be nothing. These things come up all the time, but I wanted you both to know, in case it’s not just smoke.”
“Thanks, Hassan. Keep us updated,” I said.
I fell back in the chair in front of Marco’s desk as Hassan left the room.
“Fuck, Marco. This could destroy us if it comes out.”
“Let’s not panic. Why don’t we order some food and start making a list of potential leaks?”
I started nodding, but then I remembered. “Sorry, I have to meet my client. This really isn’t the time to waste with?—”
“Hey, all clients are important, and you know that. I’ll get started on this. We can meet tomorrow.”
“Fine.” At least Veronika had picked a coffee shop close to the office, knowing I usually met with Marco on Wednesday afternoons since neither of us had class.
I rushed out of the office and toward the coffee shop, my mind already distracted by the possible danger of information about Elite coming out and the consequences for both of us. Money or no money, the way the stuff in that forum was written, it didn’t paint us in a good light.
Who would ever employ two college graduates who, by all accounts, were running a sex-work business for billionaires?
“Hi, Troy. Same as usual?” the barista asked.
“Yes, please.”
“Are you going or staying?”
“Staying.”
I paid for my drink and sat at the bar-style table facing the window. The business district wasn’t usually overrun with students from the university, so I checked the time and prepared for whatever this client had to throw at me.
Twenty minutes later, my client still hadn’t arrived, but Marco’s words had struck a note with me. I’d been so focused on my degree and building Elite that I hadn’t thought much about what I wanted.
Now, with Alexi so close, I was getting distracted. Not from the end goal with Elite or my degree, but I’d certainly spent more time thinking about him than was probably healthy.
