“He’s still back there with Dahlia,” she reported, licking her lollipop. “Been like twenty minutes now.”
I took another angry bite, the lettuce crunching.
“You good, babe?”
“Mm-hmm.” I swallowed. “Totally fine.”
Enrique, the chef, was glued to a sports broadcast on his phone which mingled with the air conditioner blasting overhead.
“Like, he’s a dick, right?” I asked after a second. “Objectively. I’m not blowing this out of proportion… right?”
Lolly let the lollipop rest against her cheek. “Oh, he’s a total dick. Weapons-grade asshole behavior.”
“Thank you.” I gestured with the sandwich. “Because for a second I thought maybe I was being dramatic. Maybe thirty-five thousand dollars just gets thrown around like that on a random Tuesday.”
“Girl, no.” She turned fully toward me. “That whole thing was gross. The way he did it? In front of everyone? Nah.”
“Who you talkin’ ‘bout, chica?” Enrique asked, eyes still on his phone.
“Cross, Ricky,” Lolly said, licking around her lollipop. “He’s being extra dicky tonight. Offered Mary money to sleep with him.”
“Oh yeah?” Enrique’s knife paused mid-chop. “How much?”
“Thirty-five grand,” I said, quieter this time.
Enrique turned around fully. “Treinta y cinco mil?”
“Si!”Lolly nodded, purple wig sparkling under the lights.
“Shit.” Enrique whistled low and set his knife down. “Maybe I should go butter my way up to him. That’s serious money, mija. You say no to that?”
“I didn’t say anything,” I muttered.
“Why?” He looked genuinely confused, like I’d turned down free food.
I stared at him. “Because he announced it like a fucking auction in the middle of the club. I do OnlyFans, yeah, but I’m not exactly standing on corners. There’s a difference between selling a custom video and getting offered thirty-five grand like I’m on the menu next to the bottle service.”
“Eh.” He shrugged, already turning back to his cutting board.“Still… treinta y cinco mil.That’s like a year of rent, maybe more if you got roommates.”
“Oh, he offered to pay a year of her rent on top of that!” Lolly added helpfully.
Enrique’s knife clattered. “A year of rent? Plus thirty-five?” He shook his head, muttering to himself, “Shit. I need to put me on some tiny black dress, too.”
“Ricky, you’re not helping,” Lolly laughed.
“I’m just saying—”
“Well, don’t.” Lolly peeked through the door crack again. “Oh shit. He’s coming out.”
My stomach did a little flip. “Is he coming this way?”
“No, no — he’s heading back to his table. Dahlia’s got her arm around him, shoving him into the booth. Killian’s laughing. Brett’s just… being Brett. Owen’s passed out.”
I set the sandwich down. My appetite was gone, but for an entirely different reason now. The longer I sat with it, the more I kept picturing Saint Cross —Milo— actually following through on that offer. Those inked hands on me. That thick cock I’d fantasized about more times than I cared to admit doing things to me even pornstars didn’t speak about out loud. The way he’d looked at me like—
Fuck. I needed to get it together.
“How do y’all know these guys?” I asked, trying to change the subject.
