"Yes. You just met her. She's a fucking superstar. A pinnacle of Bennet Babes."
"Of course."
"That's right.’Of course.' You get it. We are this business. Bennet Babes. That's us."
"That's you." Darcy's eyes are right on me, and as he says these two words I can feel the power of it: electric, radiant, forceful, undeniable.
Billionaires, huh. This is a new world for me.
"It is me. And Charlie. And Mary, Lydia, Jane, Cath…"
Darcy is walking towards me. He's just looking around the room, there's nothing strange about it. But I feel that sensation again, and I have trouble speaking.
Suddenly, Darcy seems to remember how to say more than a couple words.
"Oh, I'm familiar with Catherine." Darcy seems genuine again. I'm probably just reacting to his looks. Probably.
"I'm sure you are. Anyway, we're the reason for the metric shit-ton of income this site rakes in each month. It ain't happening any other way. That's, uh, business, right?"
I find it hard to focus as Darcy paces the room. He's acting super casual, looking at the old vinyl record covers glued to Charlie's wall. I can feel slight bits of electric current as he seems to be getting closer to me without trying.
The feeling is general at first, but becomes quite cunt-specific the closer he gets. He's not even facing me, but I feel a magnetic pull from between my legs to the front of those wool trousers.
Under the zipper…fuck, what could that cock be like? I can't even imagine. Oh. Wait. Yes, I can. I picture myself just gently opening that zipper…
I bet you’re picturing too, right? Are you ready for this shit? Guarantee that cock is 12 inches. And don’t worry, babe, it’s coming. Just wait.
But first, back to the tour.
I decide to ask Darcy a question.
"So, are you a record collector or something? You don't seem like the type."
Darcy spins around gracefully. His eyes find mine, and he smiles just a tiny bit. Now he's ready to rumble.
"What type do I seem like?"
"The billionaire-type. Your bank account's full of money, and you're full of hot air and full of yourself. You're used to everyone just giving you what you want."
"Jaded much, are we? You're not excited? Impressed?"
I shrug.
"Eh, maybe a little. But you should be excited. This is where the magic happens."
"I'm not excited. Yet. But can we see some more room
s, already?"
"Hold your horses. This grand tour is slow, and we've got conditions to discuss."
After leading Darcy quietly to Lydia's space, I feel like it's too similar to Charlie's, with a retro postpunk thing happening. I never cared about any of this before.
I want to think that Darcy has played a subtle negotiation mind-game, but after he's done scoping out Lydia's décor, he scopes me out with a bit more interest. I try to explain Lydia.
"Lydia takes no shit, but she doesn’t even need to be aggressive. It's unique. It's strong. Her fan base responds accordingly, and that's one reason we’re so highly valued."
"You don't do cam shows yourself, do you?"