“So, do you think you’ll stay with him for a while?” Hope asks me.
I nod. “I’m hoping I’ll have enough to start Annabelle’s treatment in a few more weeks.”
“Holy shit, seriously?”
I grin. “Yeah.”
“Oh my God! We should have a ‘fuck cancer’ party. I can’t wait for Annabelle to be back to her old self. She’s such a sweetie.”
I manage a smile, but unease builds in my chest. If Crawford has tired of me, and that night with Ambrose heralded the beginning of the end, then I’ll have to find another job.
Who would I be working with? Would he be as sexy and good-looking as Crawford, or will it be some crusty old CEO who enjoys having young, pretty girls at his beck and call?
“What’s the matter?” Bethany asks. “You’re all twitchy.”
I shrug, attempting nonchalance. “Crawford’s been gone the past couple of days. I guess I’m just worried that he might be bored already. Like you say, women don’t last long with him.”
“How long have you worked there again?” Bethany asks me.
“Almost three weeks.”
“Yeah. That figures. I wouldn’t get your hopes up. That’s basically a lifetime for Crawford from what I heard.”
I nod, trying to keep my expression neutral.
“So, why not remind him of what you have to offer?” Hope says, and I glance at her in surprise.
“What do you mean?” I ask.
“Well, you told me he bought you some ‘toys’, right?”
I glance at Bethany. “Yeah, he said it was technically against the rules.”
Bethany snorts. “Allof my clients have used toys. What about that is against the rules?”
“He asked for photographs.”
She shrugs her shoulders. “Okay, well, my advice? Send them if you’re comfortable, but for the love of God, keep your face out of them. You don’t want that shit on the internet.”
“So it’s okay to do it?”
“Of course, as long asyouwant to. No pressure, no harm done. If he pays you and it’s consensual, that’s all good, but I’d charge him a ton. That’s definitely not on the job description.”
I look at Hope, the idea ping-ponging around my brain as I consider whether I’d actually try it.
“What have you got to lose?” Hope asks. “If the job is going well, and you want to keep it, remind him what he’s missing. Not a lot of guys will be able to resist that.”
Bethany’s eyes run over me again like they did in the hot tub, and her lips tug up into a smile.
“Yeah. If I got a photo like that, I’d definitely keep you on for another three weeks.”
By the time I get home, the idea hasn’t faded from my mind. The house is quiet, my mom and Annabelle already in bed, and I head to my room, tiptoeing down the hallway.
Kneeling on the floor beside my closet, I pull out the metal box Crawford gave me and stare at it.
Am I really going to do this?
I’ve never taken any explicit images of myself, let alone sent them to anyone.
