Executive Engagement

Darcy affiliated with the site?"

I expect her to go full blast at me for that, but she just lets a little sigh.

"You better enjoy this little Darcy dalliance while you can."

I see a flash of pity in Catherine's eyes, then she's gone, out the door in a flash.

Why is everybody so adamant about this stuff? Nobody doubts Darcy's competence, and I'm as excited about his potential for the site as anyone. But what about his potential for my life?

Fuck it, I won't let anyone tell me not to be excited about that.

Lizzie

Ol' Hawky is smiling warmly as he steps out the back of his stretch Escalade limo and onto the mansion's winding driveway. I think that’s a good sign.

He's wearing a pair of boot-cut acid wash jeans that would've been right at home at a mid-level department store in 1990, along with a denim jacket that has the exact same wash.

What the actual fuck?

Oh jeez, he’s leaning back into his limo to tell the driver something. I want to get this over with as fast as possible, even if it could be the most important meeting of my life. I have a plan.

He slams the limo door and just stands there, smiling as the Escalade drives off.

“Hello!”

I try to get his attention, so he doesn’t just stand like a happy little plant in the fucking driveway all day. Hawk’s grin stays painted on his mug as he notices me and walks over. I extend a hand, and he takes it into a firm grip as soon as I’m within his reach. He’s still smiling, but his eyes are blank.

“Do you remember me?”

He obviously doesn’t. Jesus Christ, is he even smart enough to run this site? I guess it doesn’t matter if he takes a hands-off approach as long as he has the money to run it. Plus, his background is more fitting than Darcy’s.

“How could I forget?”

He’s so full of shit. That’s fine, at least he’s being polite this time.

“I’m Lizzie. Ready to go inside?”

“I was born ready.”

Darcy is Mr. Big when he’s watching a cam girl show, but he’s Mr. Darcy when you meet him in person. Hawk Wickham is just Hawk no matter what. He can’t be anyone else. Odd for a performer, but it’s not like he’s known for his acting talent.

“I take it you remember this area, Mr. Wickham.”

He’s walking behind me and scanning everything with eager wonder as we enter the mansion.

“Is Lydia around today?”

“Lydia? I think she may be off today.”

I feel like I’m talking to a horny, socially awkward patron of a strip club. I may be wasting my time on this idea.

“You ladies sure have a nice place. One of the nicest I’ve seen. You deserve it for all the amazing work you do.”

Okay, not so bad after all. Hawk is finally talking business. Thank fuck. Maybe he’s not as dumb as he looks. Maybe.

“It doesn’t hurt, Mr. Wickham, but we are professionals here. The best in the industry is what you’re getting with the Bennet Babes.”

“You don’t have to tell me twice. I’ve had more fun jacking myself raw to some of those old show videos than I ever had getting sucked and fucked by some of the porn industry's foremost experts on fuckin’ and suckin’. Of course, I was being paid for that, but I don’t regret my big-ass credit card bill one bit. Goddamn, I feel like a teenage boy again. You should see all those empty tissue boxes...”