“I want you to go to Cali and have fun. You need some R & R.”
“I know that I do. I work for this slave master who pops her whip every chance she gets and never takes pity on my poor soul,” she murmured into my shoulder. I released her and turned my lips down. She laughed and replied, “I’m kidding. You know that I love working for you. It’s a privilege and an honor.”
I kissed her cheek and replied, “It’s a blessing being able to have my sister work for me. Anyway, have fun, and I’ll see you when you get back.”
“Okay. Toodles.”
“Aoko?”
“Yeah, Nya?”
“Don’t do anything that I wouldn’t do.”
“Trust me. I’ll be doing all the things you’re not. Like riding and sucking big dicks. Besides, you don’t do anything anymore.”
My eyebrows lifted, and my eyes widened in embarrassment. Leave it to my sister to embarrass me. I rolled my eyes, hopped in the car, and settled in for the ride.
We had spent an amazing three days in a cabin in Telluride, Colorado, where we had been skiing, touring the town, shopping, and all the things we could think of. We flirted with men, ate more than our share of delicious foods, drank the best wines and gourmet hot chocolate, and took selfies for my social media accounts.
At thirty-three, I had walked my last runway and put on my final show in a farewell tour hosted by Varner Talent Agency,Noir Magazine, and Francesca Monet, the fashion designer.
For the last fourteen years, I had toured the world as one of the world’s top models. It wasn’t easy getting there, and I had paid my dues, but it had all paid off. Now that I was leaving that lifestyle behind, I was ready to write my own next chapter.
That chapter included launching a fashion magazine and a clothing line. I had been working on the idea with my agent, Tara Murphy, for the last few years, and I was so close to seeing my dream manifested.
This leg of the journey would require my sister and I be much busier out the gate. I knew that things wouldn’t ever be relaxed and chill, but I knew that in time it would settle down. Until then, we would have to hit the ground running, which was why I advised her to take a couple of weeks off.
It was no surprise to me that my sister planned to get her some while she was in California. Hell, she deserved it, and so did I. It just wasn’t at the top of my agenda. I needed some dick badly because it had been over three years, but I would wait until the right dick came bouncing along. Besides, I had no place in my heart for relationships any longer. After the fiasco with JoJo, I was burned out on relationships. I had sunk into depression for an entire year, barely able to fulfill job bookings and contracts, but I did it, thanks to Aoko. The last thing I needed was another bad relationship.
I hoped at the end of her vacation she would be ready to work hard, because it was going to take a lot of hard work to bury my emotions and forget my pain. Before that day came, I needed to find something to get into to relieve my stress, too, or more accurately, someone to get up under.
4
NYAKO – NEW BEGINNINGS & FRIENDS
“Care to share a drink with me?” I invited the handsome man whose face had just turned down at the news that our planes had been grounded indefinitely.
“Excuse me?”
“A drink. It’s Valentine’s weekend. If we can’t be with the ones we love, then . . . get drunk with the ones we’re with,” I joked.
His brow furrowed, his head tilted, and he pointed his finger.
“Aren’t you Nyako, the model?”
Smirking, I gave a simple nod. “Most people don’t recognize me without all the hair and glamour makeup.” I had cut all my hair after the JoJo debacle. I usually wore sew-ins and added pieces for shows and public appearances. I seldom wore my short cut with the shaved sides in public.
I wore a pair of baggy jeans, an oversized sweater over a turtleneck, boots, and a ball cap. When I traveled, I usually skipped the glamour part and opted for comfort instead.
“You have a very unforgettable face,” he remarked.
Lifting an eyebrow, I replied, “I hope you meant that in the best ways.”
“I do. I have always admired your beauty, and I love your name. It means ‘girl’ in Swahili, right?” he asked eagerly, excited to share his familiarity with my culture.
“It does. It is my mother’s native language.”
“I’m Navy Prather. I play for the Sea?—”
