Total pages in book: 122
Estimated words: 114337 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 572(@200wpm)___ 457(@250wpm)___ 381(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 114337 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 572(@200wpm)___ 457(@250wpm)___ 381(@300wpm)
I was careful not to slosh my drink as we made our way to the small high-top table with two tall chairs. Once we were settled into our seats and she’d taken a sip of her martini, Nina focused in on me.
“You’re really pretty.” She said it more like an observation than a compliment.
“Thank you.”
“Why don’t you tell me about yourself? I’d like to get a feel for you, and after that, I’ll tell you about me, and we can talk about the house.”
I took a sip of my drink, both to work up the courage and to stall so I could prepare what to say. But the fruity drink distracted my thoughts. “Wow, you’re right. This drink could be dangerous.”
“Right?” She smiled.
I gently set the glass down and let my fingers rest on the base of the stem. “What do you want to know? Like, my experience? How many guys I’ve been with?”
She blinked. “I was thinking more about you as a person. If everything works out, you’d come live at my house.”
“Oh.” My face got hot. She wanted to interview me as a potential roommate. “Right. Well, I think I’m easy to live with. I’m the kind of girl who makes her bed every morning and doesn’t leave dishes in the sink. I wear headphones when I’m watching something in my room, so I’m quiet. I mind my business and respect other people’s stuff.”
“That’s good.” But it was obvious this wasn’t what she was looking for. She cocked her head to the side. “What made you respond to my ad? You can be honest. I promise you won’t get any judgement from me.”
“I need money—or a place to live.” I dropped my gaze down to my fingers on my martini glass. “Or both, ideally.”
“Hey, I get it. Ten years ago, that was my story, too. I was broke, and living in Hammond, Indiana. Have you heard of it?”
“No.”
“It’s the armpit of the Midwest, to give you an idea of what it’s like there.” She pushed away her sour expression and returned to normal. “I was desperate and willing to do anything to get free, so I answered a casting call for an adult film. That led me to a career in sex work, and most people don’t believe it, because they don’t want it to be true, but it changed my life in amazing ways.”
I tried not to scrunch my face or look dubious. “Really?”
“Yes,” she said. “Absolutely no regrets. I love what I do, and if it wasn’t for that audition, I wouldn’t have met my husband.” She smiled to herself, as if recalling the memory, before her eyes refocused on me. “He usually comes with me to these meet-and-greets, but he had another appointment tonight.”
“He’s in the porn business, too?”
This question amused her. “He’s Scott Westwood.”
“Oh.” She’d said it like I should recognize the name, but I didn’t, and my blank expression thrilled her even more.
“I guess you don’t watch a lot of porn. He’s pretty famous.” She took a sip of her drink. “If things work out, we’ll change that. You’ll want to see what kind of content other companies are putting out, what makes a great performance. But I’m getting ahead of myself. I still need to know about you. Where are you from?”
“St. Louis.”
“What brought you here? School?”
“Yeah. Davidson has a top tier business program, and they have an in-state exchange program with Missouri.” Otherwise, I never would have been able to afford it. It also helped that it put some space between me and my parents, which was needed after everything that had happened.
“Can I ask what happened with your housing?”
Her question was casual, and I parted my lips to speak, but wasn’t sure what to say. If I told her I’d gotten kicked out of my sorority, she’d ask why, and then I’d have to admit one of the most embarrassing days of my life. Plus, she’d think I had anger issues and I’d lose out on the only housing lead I had now—Danielle’s aunt had said no.
Nina must have seen the fear in my eyes because her expression filled with concern. “Hey, it’s all right. Everyone at the house respects boundaries and your personal life. You only share what you’re comfortable with. If it was a break-up with your partner, or a problem with your roommate, that’s all I need to know.”
“Yes,” I said quickly. “A break-up. That’s what it was.”
I felt awful lying to her, but this was too important to get wrong. I just need to make it through the summer. With hard work and luck, I’d find an affordable apartment to rent, or a place looking for a roommate, for the fall semester.
And if I wanted to twist logic, I could argue my relationship with Lambda Theta Chi had ended—they’d dumped me like a bad girlfriend.