"Sure," I said as though I hadn't run through a dozen scenarios in my mind in the few moments it took for me to answer. "It'll probably be boring, but you might get to see a few famous faces."
"Ohhh, like who?" Her eyes were wide.
"Maybe some Broadway stars," I said evasively. "That pop star you like lives over in Tribeca. Maybe she'll come."
Boner dropped a bunch of names, but whether they'd show or not was another thing. If a couple of them did, that would add legitimacy to this whole event. We might even be able to convince Eros it wasn't thrown together at the last minute. That would raise less suspicion.
"That would be awesome," Erin breathed. "She might give me a job as a backing dancer." Knife in her hand, she did a little twirl.
"With moves like that, you'll be a shoe-in," I said. Which reminded me. "Have you had anything strange happened to your phone recently? I heard some people have had theirs hacked. Presumably they're looking for…"
Erin raised her eyebrows. "You can say it, you know. Naked selfies. I don't go around taking them anyway. Besides, I suck at selfies. You should see some of mine."
"I'm sure they're amazing," I said, trying not to ask directly. "I bet you're better at taking them than I am."
I quickly washed my hands and picked up my phone to show her a photo of me with the restaurant behind me. My red hair was standing around my face like a cloud and my eyes were half closed. I looked like the morning after a hard night of drinking.
"You look adorable," Erin said. She pulled off her latex gloves, washed her own hands and pulled out her phone. "Look, I can't even take a decent photo of my own shoes."
The breath rushed out of my body. My head spun with the implications. This was one of the exact photos we found on Fairfield's phone.
"See, it's terrible," Erin said.
"It's not that bad," I said, trying not to look as though I was about to lose my shit. "Is this a new trend? Taking photos of your shoes?"
She giggled and put her phone away, washing her hands again and putting on a new pair of gloves.
"My friends and I like to share the clothes we buy," she said. "I know it's not much, these are only cheap shoes, but…" The enthusiasm seemed to drain from her.
"It's ahugething," I assured her. "You bought those with your own money you earned by working here. You're an independent woman, doing your own thing. You should be proud of yourself. Besides, someday when you're taking photos of yourself wearing Prada, you can look back at those photos and see how far you've come."
She perked up. "You're right. Can I print something out?"
"Go ahead," I said, with some inkling of what she had in mind.
She darted off to the office, coming back a couple of minutes later with two pieces of paper in her hand. The fact the printer worked so quickly was a minor miracle. Evidently she was better at operating it than I was.
She held out the printed out photo of her shoe before placing them it on the fridge and placing a couple of magnets on the corners to keep it in place.
"Motivation," she said. "Every time I look at that, I can remember to keep going. To believe in myself and what I can achieve."
Beside the first sheet, she placed the second. A photo of a pair of Louboutin heels. "And that's my goal."
"I love that," I said sincerely. "Those heels are hot."
What would the guys think of me in those and nothing else? I suspected they'd enjoy the look. They'd certainly enjoyed my mouth on them. Just thinking about that made me hot inside.
I knew what Cass and Boner got up to in the restroom. Archer and I could hear Cass' moans and the sound of him coming. Boner's red mouth as they emerged confirmed what I suspected.
For a moment, I thought Cass would storm out and leave, but then he'd ordered me onto my knees. Sucking off both men was like a dream. One I didn't want to wake up from. I didn't want Cass angry at me, but the result was, well, chef’s kiss.
"I don't suppose you can spot me a year's wages so I can buy them for tonight?" Erin said with a groan.
"Absolutely, if you don't want to pay rent or eat for a year," I said dryly.
"I mean, those things are overrated compared to those heels," she said jokingly. She sighed out her nose. "Fine, I can wait. Those will be worth it."
"They definitely will," I agreed. I wondered if I could afford a pair for myself, but decided the money would be better spent giving another donation to a women's shelter. I had plenty of shoes as it was.
