“Becoming a prostitute isn’t a solution to your problem.”
My cheeks burned. “I’m not becoming anything. Would you relax? I want to try this.”
“Why couldn’t you try something normal? I mean out of all the jobs out there, you chose this? This is a bad idea, Jess.”
The horrible sound of her screaming rang in my ears.
“I’m sorry, Nat,” I said in a tight voice. “But I am desperate—and I need this. I don’t have a family to take care of me.”
“I don’t feel good about this.”
It’s not like I have a choice.
It was this, or keep begging the manager at Chili’s for the hours he couldn’t give me.
“I can take care of myself.”
“No, you can’t, Jess,” she said in a softer voice. “Especially not with your history.”
His face blazed in my mind. The anger radiating from my body turned inward. I didn’t want to hear it. She tried to reach for me, but I turned toward the screen. A final furious sob and my bedroom door slammed shut. I clenched my fist on the desk and breathed deeply, listening to the sound of my heart hammering against my chest. I couldn’t remember the last time I thought about that jackass.
Why did she have to remind me of him now?
There was work to do. I wiped my eyes and continued the profile. I chose several pictures showing me smiling and others that made me look vulnerable.
How the hell am I supposed to know what a millionaire wants?
I blew out my cheeks as I posted the profile and drummed my fingertips on the table, refreshing the webpage obsessively to see if I had any responses.
I felt a swooping sensation as my email blinked.
Holy shit, that was fast.
Hello,
Just saw your profile pics, your gorgeous! I’m a wealthy married 60y/o man looking for a discrete, pretty young lady like yourself ;) Would you be willing to accept $3000/month? Check out my profile and email me back.
Sincerely,
Mr. Nice Guy
I shuddered, my skin clammy. His message had been innocuous enough but I could detect an aura of sleaze radiating from Mr. Nice Guy. A sixty-year-old man looking for a discrete woman less than half his age.
Gee, I wonder what he wants.
Feeling a bit sick as I deleted his email, I wondered if all the responses would be like his.
As I deleted the email, two more popped up. Wow.
Hiya!
You look like just what I’m looking for ;) Check out my profile.
-EnigmaMan248
I clicked on his profile and saw an aging, bald man with two buxom blondes in his arms, each kissing his cheeks. His “about me” line declared him as The Perpetual Partier.
More like the Perpetual D-bag.
I scrunched my face in disgust. Maybe Natalie was right about this website being a waste of my time. I clicked on the third, bracing myself.
Good Evening,
I am a businessman in my late twenties looking for someone to accompany me in my travels. While I cannot disclose exactly what I am looking for in an email, I believe that the arrangement I am seeking would be of great interest to you. I realize that my lack of information seems suspicious, but I would like to set up a meeting as soon as possible. I will give you $2000 to meet with me tomorrow night, so long as you sign a non-disclosure agreement upon arrival. Regardless of whether this arrangement pans out, you will receive the money. Please respond as soon as possible.
Sincerely,
-L
That piqued my interest. His profile displayed a man in a business suit with large sunglasses and dark, chocolate-brown hair. I couldn’t really discern anything from the low quality picture; it seemed like he might be handsome. His pricing was negotiable and his net worth was a staggering 1.6 billion.
Holy fucking shit.
My mind churned. Two thousand dollars just for showing up. I couldn’t pass this up, no matter how sketchy his request sounded. The car would be paid for, and last month’s rent, but it wouldn’t be enough to get me back on my feet. He couldn’t be a hoax; the website claimed to check each “gentleman’s” bank and tax records. He really was worth all that money.
My insides squirmed as I thought about it. Where would we go? Why did he want a travel companion? The questions raced around in my head ceaselessly, but I knew that I couldn’t pass up two grand.
Hi L,
Thank you for emailing me. I would be glad to meet you. Yes, I am free tomorrow. What time and where?