Before I walk in, I take a selfie for my honesty project. The GoldRush sign is lit up behind me. I caption it:I work here. I do the books.I can’t imagine that “doing the books” is a full-time job. I tag Max. Now that I’m going full disclosure,I consider explaining how I stole the name and advertising materials, but it’s too much to get into.62
Inside, I find Crystal. She’s wearing sequined lingerie and five-inch heels with the same level of comfort that a nurse wears scrubs. I wonder how she holds down two jobs, takes care of a baby, and still manages to keep everything shaved. Instead of inquiring about that, I ask how she’s doing.
“Oh you know…” She shrugs. “Getting ready for work.” She looks seriously unenthused.
“How’s it going with Jules?”
“Mmm.”
I take that to mean good.
I kick back in a chair and put my legs up on a low table. Crystal slides a plate of cheese sticks closer to me for sharing. “Thanks,” I say. “I’ve been thinking about GoldRush. I’m really proud of it in some ways, but then again, it’s basically just a way to get sugar daddies for us.” I shake my head. “I don’t know. I’m thinking it’s missing something. Like…instead of marrying millionaires, maybe we should become millionaires.” I’m joking but not.
Crystal laughs like I’ve said the funniest thing on the whole planet. “Girl, I can barely afford to get someone to sit for my kid while I’m working two shitty jobs. How in the hell am I going to make a million dollars?”
“I know,” I say, “but still. It seems a little 1950s of us tojust try to marry millionaires. Like maybe we should go to college or something.”
“Whatever. I’m just sick of taking the damn bus. Fuck feminism.”
The bus does suck.
“What if I restructure GoldRush to be some sort of human capital investment thing? Like I could get the millionaires to invest in your ideas or something.” I take a bite of a cheese stick while I wait for her thoughts.
“Ideas?” She laughs like it’s the funniest thing she’s ever heard. “I’m no dummy, but I ain’t sitting on the next big app or anything.” She locks eyes with me to communicate how serious she is. “Matchmaking is perfect. We got the booty and the ballerina credentials or whatever they want. They got the money. No one’s taking the damn bus. Bam!”
I frown hard. There must be a better way, but she’s right—the bus sucks and it’d be nice to be with a guy with money.63And Mia 2.0 might be friendlier than the original, but she doesn’t have any better ideas. “I got a few more guys interested, so our pool of sugar daddies is growing. All thanks to Jules. His posts have really blown up.”
“Sweet. Maybe we can do some more posts. Really make it look like the ultimate party life. I’ll wear a bikini and splash in the water. Men love that sort of thing.” With a laugh she says, “I have to make up for the posts from last night. I wore a shirt with pit stains, and I didn’t have any makeup on. I don’tknow why he wanted to go out with me or why anyone is liking these photos.”
“It is subversive in an exciting way. I bet women liked it because you made it look like you were good enough as is.”
“I am good enough, bitch.” She flashes ayou wanna start something?look and I choke on a laugh.
“Whatever. You know what I mean. We say we’re good enough, but not really.” We’re totally not good enough. Let’s get real. Actually…maybe that’s our only option.
Crystal arrives at that conclusion at the same time I do. “Maybe we should just be more honest,” she says. “Like instead of saying that Tatiana is a Russian ballerina, you could just describe her as a rich girl with daddy issues who only strips to pay for her Amazon addiction.”
I laugh at the idea. For the first time, Tatiana sounds like someone I can relate to. That ice queen look might be sexy, but the sexy ice queen schtick is not the stuff BFFs are made of.
Crystal gets a spark of mischief in her eye. “And for Gigi—she’ll spend all your money on a weave, but don’t worry, it’ll be worth it.” Then, looking slightly more introspective, she says, “And I will be a single mother with two crappy jobs who recently moved back in with her own mom and doesn’t believe in love.”
“You’re going to change your mind about the love thing, I think.” I have a feeling about her and Jules.
“Maybe,” she says, a sparkle in her eye.
“And to think, all you needed was a rich underwear model.” I shake my head. “Talk about a tall order.”
We might be in a dingy club eating bar food but it’s a beautiful moment. Most of the time, the beginnings and ends of things blend into the rest and you never notice them. But this time, maybe because the world is so new for me, I can feel it. I know this is the moment we’re creating something. This is the beginning of something better than what we had. GoldRush was good in some ways, but it’s going to be better now. And I’m 75 percent sure I have a business partner in Crystal.
I sigh happily. Who would have ever thought of an honest dating site? It’s the most counterintuitive yet most obvious thing I’ve thought of. “I really like the idea of making everyone’s bio honest. No more fantasy fulfillment. We’re real people. No more hiding it.”
Come to think of it, that was what made me feel like a pimp before—not the matchmaking, but the false advertising. I’m only here to facilitate a match, not sell anyone a fantasy. I’m so excited about my new idea for GoldRush. Not lying probably isn’t revolutionary, but it’s the first time I’ve thought of it. I can’t wait to get online and change it all around.
I head back to my office in the back of the club and go to work on the site. It’s going to be brand-new by tomorrow. It’s not like I have a life to distract me.
I put up a sign on my door like I’m running conferences. I’m going to meet with every girl at the club and call everyone else. I’ll update all the bios and retake all the profile shots—no filters, preferably with no makeup. “Wear some sweatpants,” I advise the girls. “Whatever you look like on Sunday morning, that’s what I want on the site.”
“So, hungover?” one of the girls says.
