“That was rude, you’re right,” he acknowledged—although he didn’t apologize. He waved his hand instead. “Five thousand. Do we have a deal?”
“No, we don’t have a deal,” I snapped, shaking my head with outright indignation. “Do you have any idea how insulting—”
“Don’t you need the money? Don’t you need to get home? I’m giving you a way to make the money, Olivia.”
“But to think I would sleep with a man for money is absolutely vile.”
“The guy who abandoned you in Amsterdam was clearly footing the bill for this trip. You never fucked him?”
I breathed out slowly, remembering that Paul would snore so loudly that I would wake up in the middle of the night. All I could do was stare at the ceiling, wishing that the weight of his arm weren’t pinning me to his mattress.
Kieran was right. I had slept with Paul—and it had been for his money. We had both known it too. We had an arrangement, in fact—one that I had voluntarily signed up for at my lowest moment, when Charlie and I were behind on rent and were about three nights away from being evicted to a shelter. Again.
“Take the deal,” Kieran continued, unaware (for the best) that this offer had tapped into my deepest shame. I had been wrong before. This was my lowest moment. “Knowing Davis, he would take three pumps and be done with it. It’ll be the easiest five grand you’ve ever made.”
I didn’t bother telling him that I had never made five thousand dollars in one-go in my entire life. I shook my head again—something I felt like I had been doing nonstop since the offer left his mouth. “This is the most twisted thing I’ve ever heard of. Does Davis know what you’re offering me?”
“Hell no. If he found out, I wouldn’t pay you a dime.”
“So why are you even doing this? I like your brother, probably more than I should like I guy who I just met and will never see again after this week. What makes you think that I wouldn’t sleep with him for free?”
“Will you?” Kieran asked, his tone challenging.
I made the mistake of stammering. “Look, the timing is awful. I would under different circumstances, but…”
“But…”
“But I don’t want to screw men for their money—not anymore. Your brother is far too sweet for me to do that to.”
“Do what? Davis clearly wins here. He gets to sleep with you and he doesn’t have to spend a dime. I’m the only loser in this situation.”
“Then why bother?”
“Because I can,” Kieran answered simply, as if that were good enough. “It’s my money, and my right to do what I want with it. It’s your right to accept the money or not. If you say no, fine. Whatever. Maybe Davis will visit you in Montana—”
“Missouri.”
“—Missouri, and you two can finally consummate this with candles and rose petals and whatever else you seem to want. That does, naturally, require Davis to step away from Wharton and schlep himself over to wherever the hell you live—that is, assuming he’s still interested. Or you can do it tonight and be five thousand dollars richer.”
Five thousand dollars. The things that Charlie and I could do with five thousand dollars were the stuff of our wildest dreams. That would cover our rent for four months, which meant I could use my barista money for the soccer cleats that he wanted so badly so he could play on the school team this year. Or I could finally get a second laptop so that he and I didn’t have to share anymore. Hell, I could afford both the cleats and the laptop if I didn’t have to pay rent for four months.
But I couldn’t do this. Sell my body. I had jokingly toyed with the idea, inspired by the proximity of the Red Light District, but was never serious. Other women could do that if they wanted, but this wasn’t how things were supposed to be for me.
I was supposed to be better than my mother. I was supposed to go to college and get a great job and make a ton of money and be grateful that I got dealt a better hand. I wasn’t supposed to rely on men or need them for anything other than companionship. This wasn’t supposed to be me.
And yet…it was. This was me. Desperate and with nothing else to offer anyone.
“Nothing weird?” I confirmed, feeling like the voice that was speaking wasn’t my own anymore. My hands were unsteady, gripping the metal arms of the chair beneath me. “Nothing nefarious? You’re not going to film me. This isn’t going to be a snuff film or a livestream or a kidnapping, right?”
“Hey, what you and my brother decide to do is between the two of you. You figure out your boundaries.” Kieran smirked, clearly thrilled that I was coming around to the idea. Thrilled was an understatement. He had a look on his face like Christmas—or whatever morbid, Satanic holiday he celebrated—had come early.
“And you swear that he’s never going to know?” I continued, staring seriously at Kieran. “Ever. You’ll take this to your grave?”
“I’m inclined to be cremated, but sure. This stays between you and me.”
Five thousand dollars.
“Fine. I’ll do it. I’ll sleep with your brother,” I agreed. As soon as the words left my mouth, I felt my heart vaulting. This was wrong. This was so wrong. But I needed this, didn’t I? I needed to get home. To school. To Charlie.
“All good deals close with a handshake,” he informed me, oblivious or unaware of the moral battle taking place in my brain.
He was probably unfazed, if we were being honest.
I took his hand. But when we parted, I couldn’t brush off the lingering feeling, the tingle in my fingers, that told me that I may have just made a deal with the devil.