“But you didn’t.”
“Rules are rules. It’s not my fault I’m that good.”
My eyes fell back to the list. “What’s Greek?”
“Anal.” Even though she was driving, she saw my pen move past that, leaving it blank. “Evie, you’ve got to check that box.”
“No way, no.” I capped the pen and put it in my purse. “It’s gross.” The irony was not lost on me. Most people would say having sex with a total stranger for money was gross.
“Get past your hang-ups. You might like it,” Payton said. “And seriously, you’ll never make enough in one night without it. Unless you want to do more than one guy.”
My shoulders slumped. The idea of one stranger was bad enough, but multiple? “Oh, god, no.”
“You’ve got, like, three things checked on that list. How are you going to know if you like stuff if you don’t try?”
“I think I’ll be trying enough new things that night, don’t you?”
She nodded, knowing when to stop pushing.
On Wednesday my nerves were wound tight as a spring. I feared the slightest push would snap the coil and I’d break apart. I used my lunch break to get tested and prove I was free of any STDs. Otherwise I stayed hidden at my desk, desperate to focus on anything other than Saturday.
The unsigned contract was tucked in my purse, whispering to me. I felt like I couldn’t escape, and yet the dirtiest part of me was excited. The ship would be leaving soon, and I was going to have to decide once and for all whether or not to get on board. I’d already made the decision, though, hadn’t I, in the back room of that salon? The memory made my stomach clench. As if on cue, my personal email chimed on my workstation. I thought it would be another daily pep talk from Payton. It was from Joseph, checking in. The email had the logo of the club in the corner, the same from the card, a classy black and white diamond shape with a modern font. Elegant. If it had been from anywhere else I would have added it to my inspiration folder.
“Planning on doing any work today?” Logan snapped. My cursor clicked the email closed as fast as possible. Of course he’d catch me in the one minute I’d taken a break. I spun in my chair, my face hot with embarrassment.
“I was working. Did you need something?” I said, desperate to sound normal and not guilty.
He towered over my chair, his face hard and cold. “The printer overnighted the sample to me. It’s on my desk.” He turned and went without a word, expecting me to follow.
He could have picked up the phone and called me into his office, but that wasn’t Logan’s style. He liked to float around the department and keep people on target. Jamie, three cubes to my right, liked to surf Pinterest all day, rather than work.
I’d only been in Logan’s office a handful of times, so each visit made me uncomfortable. He’d taken the management position a year ago, but hadn’t done much to decorate. Maybe he didn’t like the distraction of artwork on his walls.
He held out the proof for us both to examine.
“It was good work,” he said, “other than the sloppy mistake.” Well, if that wasn’t a backhanded compliment I don’t know what was. “If it had been anyone else, I would have let them go. You have to know you’re the best one out there.”
It was by far the nicest thing he’d ever said, and the power of his statement left me stunned. Yet he seemed completely unaware.
“When will you have the money?”
That brought reality crashing back down on me. “Saturday night.”
“Saturday night?” he asked, skeptical.
“I meant Monday,” I said quickly.
He gave me an odd look, but pressed forward. “Good. I’ll get the prints released to Player’s this afternoon.” He rounded his desk and dropped down into his chair, and when his attention went to his computer screen, it was like I ceased to exist to him.
I carried the new proof back to my desk and looked at it with bittersweet eyes. This was my art, paid for with my own money . . . well, with the money I’d make. There was no turning back, I told myself, when I hit “send” on a response to Joseph’s email, letting him know I’d signed the contract and would drop it off tonight. He emailed me back almost immediately and said to bring it with me on Saturday night.
It was done, and I was done worrying about this. I liked sex, so maybe I wouldn’t hate this. Hopefully.
Payton was on time, as usual, but I was running behind. As usual. She sat on the couch in the living area and watched me put makeup on through the open doorway of my cramped bathroom.
“I don’t know why you do this to yourself.”
She was talking about Blake, the man I’d been ho