But part of what being a grown-up meant was understanding that compromises had to be made. That nobody was perfectly happy. That you took what you could get and didn’t constantly strive for more in case you lost the little you actually had.
She swallowed hard, thinking about her empty bank account in spite of how hard she tried to push it out of her mind.
“Sorry, guess I’m just more of a glass-half-empty kind of girl.” She smiled apologetically while she poured herself another cup of coffee. “Change makes me nervous.”
Who was she kidding? Change made her hyperventilate. “I prefer for everything to go smoothly. According to schedule. I like to wake up and know exactly what’s going to happen that day.”
Nicholas’s eyebrows scrunched even though the slight smile on his mouth said he was amused by her. “That’s impossible though. Life is chaotic. No matter how much you try to control a schedule, unexpected things are going to happen. Like the electricity going out.”
“I have a backup generator.”
“Or the Wi-Fi going down.”
“My job is flexible.” She lifted her shoulders as she sat back down across from him. “It’s okay if I’m offline for a few days.”
“Or if there’s a storm that locks you in your house for a week.”
She grinned at that one. “I have everything I could ever need already here. We aren’t close to any flood plains. If there’s some nation-wide disaster, I have enough food, water, and gas for the generator stockpiled to survive for six months on my own.”
“Damn, woman.” Nicholas looked impressed. “Maybe I’m wrong. Maybe if you work hard enough, you can control your life and prepare for everything.”
That was when Sloane felt her face fall. “But Ramona still got out and if you hadn’t been there who knows how far she might have run after she got out of that tree.” She put her elbows on the table and scrubbed her hands down her face. “If I would have just followed my routine and locked her up in her room before I opened the—”
“But that’s the point,” Nicholas said, reaching across the table and putting his hand on her forearm. She froze at the contact. She stared at his huge hand, watching the way the muscles of his forearm bunched and flexed as he gave a quick squeeze before letting go. “You’re not a machine. You’re a human being.”
“So what, I’ll always fail because I’m human? That’s a pretty shitty way to look at—”
“No,” he shook his head, laughing. “I’m saying that’s what’s good about life proving us wrong every time we think we’re in total control. It doesn’t exist. We’re only truly free once we give up control altogether.”
Her mouth dropped open. Well that just didn’t make any sense at all. Sure she was only twenty-four years old, but she’d seen the truth of the human condition through a thousand different camera lenses. And it proved him wrong. So wrong.
All people did was look for ways to gain power and control. Over other people. Over their pleasure. Over her—even if it was only an illusion.
That was part of what made her job enjoyable. Not the getting off part. Hell, more days than not she never masturbated at all.
But whether it was guys wanting her to call them daddy or to dress up like plushies on cam2cam sessions with her—they came to her because she could give them exactly what they needed. Things they were either too embarrassed or ashamed of or simply unable to live out in real life. They came to her to fantasize their desires into reality. And no matter how many degrading things were said to her in play, at the end of the day, she was the one walking to the bank with their cash.
She came out the winner. Winning. That was what she was doing. She had everything she needed right here. Anything she wanted, she could get. She was doing just fine. Perfectly fine. Right? Right?
She swallowed hard and looked down at the table.
What if the bank couldn’t recover the thirty thousand dollars? Then everything she’d worked for years for would be gone—poof!—just like that. All her hard work camming day and night, building up her business so carefully, down the drain.
And even if it could all get cleared up and her money was returned—she was effectively a prisoner in her own home.
She’d been under self-imposed house arrest for six years.
Six. Years.
It wasn’t great, or fabulous, or awesome.
That was just the bullshit she told herself so she could bear it without going fucking nuts. That was the brutal truth she’d had to confront while she’d waited at the door, too paralyzed to go out and help Ramona.
“Don’t you ever want to be surprised?” Nicholas asked softly. “To discover new things? To do something spontaneously just because?”
No! She hated surprises.