by Isabel Jolie
“I heard about you through Gabe. I like your work.” The grin on his face struck me as more of a leer. The guy definitely knew about OnlyFans. His gaze tracked to my breasts and remained south of my face.
The room blurred, and I focused on breathing in and out.
“I work with Reed. He saw your profile on my computer one day at work.” Gabe sounded apologetic.
“Thank you for the referral.” I plastered on my most professional expression. A decade in the hospitality industry provided the experience needed to deal with all kinds of people.
Tate and Luna joined us, and I slipped into the background. Present, but not a part of the conversation. Reed continued to leer at me as if I was on the menu. It reminded me too much of Ben and what he clearly expected me to do at his bachelor party for all his friends. As if because I sell photos I’m expected to also be the entertainment in any social situation. As if I wasn’t a person but an item for sale, in any situation.
I sat beside Gabe, across from Luna and Tate. Reed sat at the head of the table. His knee brushed mine once, and I inched my chair closer to Gabe. Gabe’s leg brushed mine repeatedly, but without the same repulsive reaction I had with Reed. I inched closer to Gabe until our knees were aligned. As the conversation flowed, I relaxed somewhat and found it easier to breathe.
The conversation buzzed, mostly between the three men. I half-listened and deflected concerned expressions from Luna.
Gabe’s posture tensed, and I tuned in to Reed’s words. He was talking about the stock market and financial metrics.
“I told the guys you’re probably down here playing the market. It’s not like you need Belman. Are you raking it in?”
“I’m focusing on the case. Per Belman’s request.”
“You have lawyers. That can’t be taking up all your time.”
“You’d be surprised how many meetings a team of hourly paid lawyers needs.”
Tate remained silent, but I noticed his attention fell solely on Gabe.
“Caroline’s been concerned. She told me she wants to come down here. Make sure you’re okay.”
“I’m good.”
Tate spoke up. “He is. He stays busy. Surfing, hang gliding, windsurfing, paddle boarding—you name it, the guy does it.”
“We should go surfing in Hawaii. Those waves are killer.”
Gabe cut his eyes at Reed. “Those waves would kill you.”
“They have smaller waves. It’s not all mega waves.”
“Yes, but that’s what you’re thinking of when you want to fly out there. And you don’t start on those waves.”
“Maybe I’m better than you think, ever thought about that?”
The conversation evolved into a discussion of the most outlandish locations they’d each gone surfing, or scuba diving, too. Luna and I remained silent, as neither of us had any past trips to contribute to the conversation.
After we finished dinner, I stood to gather the plates.
Gabe reached out for my wrist, and I flinched. “It’s okay,” he said. “I’ve hired someone to come and clean up everything. They’ll be here a little later.”
Cleaning up the dishes for five people required hiring someone? I bit back my response and swallowed. I picked up my empty wine glass and met Luna’s gaze. She looked as out of place as I felt.
“I’m going to get a refill. Does anyone want anything?”
“I’ll follow you. I’m not sure what I want.” Reed stood, and my stomach bottomed out. Through the window I could see the beverage station. I didn’t get a good vibe from Reed, but my destination was right inside the door, so rather than cause a scene, I nodded and led the way.
My hand vibrated as I reached for the wine bottle. Reed came up behind me and touched my upper back. I leaned forward, away from him.
“I’m not sure if you’re working tonight. Or if I should go online to engage your services. I don’t know how you prefer it to work. But I’m definitely interested, and I’d pay well.”
“I don’t do that.” Mortified, I stared straight ahead.
His fingers lightly brushed my breast, and I lurched forward into the table.
The sliding door slid open, and from behind me I heard Gabe. “I think I’m going to go for a margarita on the rocks.”
I set my glass down on the beverage table and rushed for the front door.
“What happened?” Gabe asked Reed.
The door closed behind me before Reed responded. I ran down the steps, and tears slipped down my cheeks. Dumb, silly girl.
Chapter 17
Gabe
* * *
“Nothing.” Reed spread his fingers wide, holding both hands in the air in a dramatic defensive gesture. “I swear.”
Through the beveled glass front door, Poppy’s distorted figure grew smaller. I suppressed the desire to throw a punch in Reed’s face. The fucker did something. I threw a pissed off glare his way then tore off after Poppy. The front door slammed behind me, and she ran faster.
I caught up to her as she slid onto her golf cart seat, and I gripped the side of the cart, prepared to hold it in place if she tried to speed away.
“What did he do?” She stared straight ahead. She sniffled. Tears soaked her cheeks. Christ. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine. Thank you for dinner.”
“Poppy…” I reached over and, with a soft touch, stroked her chin, prodding her to turn her head and let me see her. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing’s wrong.”
“Poppy, you’re crying. You can’t tell me nothing’s wrong.” When I raced outside, rage threatened to boil over. All I’d wanted was to know what he’d done so I’d know the why when I beat Reed to a pulp. But the sense of helplessness as tears fell down her reddening cheeks watered down the anger. I stifled the urge to drag her out of the cart and hold her until the tears dried up.
“I can’t let you leave here like this. Go for a walk with me on the beach,” I pleaded. I’d had girlfriends before. In my experience, if you gave them some time, they’d eventually speak and let you in.
She shook her head, stubborn. Her fingers gripped the steering wheel so hard the skin on the edges lost color.
“As friends. Let’s go for a walk.”
“I thought you said we couldn’t be friends.” She finally deigned to face me, and those tear-filled mammoth blue eyes sank me.
“I don’t want to be boxed into the friend zone, no. But I think right now you need a friend.” And it may have something to do with my friend inside, and once I find out what he did to you, I’m going to kill him.
“A walk. Nothing more?”
I nodded and offered my hand to help her out of the cart. I attempted to intertwine my fingers with hers, but she pulled back, denying me.
I followed her on the narrow, sandy path that trailed beside my house as her words echoed, nothing more. Reed must have propositioned her. He viewed her like one of the women from Cyr’s parties. My fault for not putting him in his place—for telling him about that blasted account in the first place.
We fell into line side by side along the water's edge. Moonlight lit our path, and a million stars twinkled overhead in the clear night sky. She had slipped off her flip flops and held the thongs between her fingers. I had on lace up tennis shoes and remained far enough from the incoming tide to keep them dry. I studied her as we walked. She sniffled, and her chest lifted and fell to an exaggerated degree as she breathed in and out, no doubt collecting her runaway emotions.
Questions circulated through my mind as our feet sank into the sand. She chose this life. Reed couldn’t be the first guy to expect whatever he’d expected. Surely, she didn’t break down into a tearful mess whenever a guy was out of line. My assumptions made me all the more curious as to what, exactly, he’d done. They hadn’t been alone for long.
We’d almost reached the point where East Beach and South Beach converged when she finally spoke. “When I was in high school, there was a guy—a friend. And, well, we
were more than friends. For years. One day, one of his friends knocked on my door. Pushed his way in. Said Ben…he’s the guy, my friend…he said Ben said he should come over. Said…it doesn’t matter. I didn’t believe him. But he pushed himself on me and ripped my shirt and groped me. I screamed, and he left.”
Did Reed touch you?
“I was so angry, and I thought if Ben knew, he’d be angry, too. He was my neighbor. His parents weren’t home yet. I walked in without knocking, and I heard him swearing to the guys that I was easy. That he didn’t know why I didn’t put out…and one of his friends said something about that I saw him as a boyfriend. And he said… ‘You think I’d date a fat girl? She gives good blowjobs. Great boobs. If she’s not willing to give it up to you, well, what can I say. Maybe your dick doesn’t stack up.’”
The pieces of her story fell together like a Poppy puzzle. High school. Ben. “The guy calling you nonstop last night? That was Ben?”
“And his friends. They found out about my…account.”
“What does that have to do with Reed?”
“He propositioned me. And not in an inappropriate way.” She rushed her defense of Reed.
“But it reminded you of what happened before. In high school.”
“I pretty much hid out for the rest of the year. Rumors seemed to be everywhere. Those boys lied. My mom was never home. My senior year, she’d started dating someone new, and I basically lived alone, and it seemed like once the boys knew that, they’d come over after school. Laughing, egging each other on. It got to the point I didn’t answer the door.”
“But you chose this…” I trailed off, searching for the least offensive word, “career.” I didn’t understand. I circled back to thinking Reed couldn’t be the first guy to proposition her. Sure, the high school guys were jerks, but it didn’t add up.
“Okay, first off.” Poppy stopped walking and threw her index finger into the air. “I sell my photos online. That’s it. I don’t do phone sex, I don’t masturbate on camera, I don’t have sex on camera. I am not a prostitute. I tell funny jokes, and I share bits and pieces of a made-up life. There are men out there who like great boob shots, and that’s mostly what I do. Yes, I do take special requests, but it’s like wearing a cowgirl costume. And doing all of that doesn’t mean I give up my rights as a human being. That I am any less than any other woman.” Those light blue eyes shone stormy and defiant.
“I never said you are less.”
The pointed index finger dropped. “But you expect it. You thought I’d let you in last night.”
Busted. “Maybe…but I didn’t push my way in. And I took you on a date.”
She rolled her eyes and changed direction, heading back toward my house. I followed along, uncertain how this became an analysis of my actions.
“You know, what I choose to do doesn’t mean men can treat me differently. Even if I were a prostitute—and I’m not—it doesn’t mean men can treat me poorly. It’s a job. I deserve respect.”
She huffed as she walked, and I had to quicken my pace to keep up. “I agree.”
Her pace slowed. “And I guess I wasn’t prepared for Reed to know about it. It felt like you were pimping me out or something.”
“I would never.” Hell, the idea of anyone looking at her didn’t sit well with me. I’d wanted to buy exclusivity. When I offered to pay her for property management, that was so she could drop the account, not for her, but for me. Because I didn’t like her doing it. Reed jumped in on this all on his own. “But why do it? Why do something you’re not proud of?”
“Who says I’m not proud?” Her pace quickened, and the tide lapped her ankles. Water splashed with each step.
“Come on.” I reached for her shoulder, and she flinched, refusing my touch. “Poppy! Stop.”
On a huff, she spun around.
“Look at you. I’m proud of what I do, and I don’t cry when someone asks me to invest their portfolio.”
“Don’t be a fucking asshole!” She tore off down the beach.
“I’m trying not to be. I swear. But look at you. Why do you do it?” I chased after her. “You’re smart. You have options. You don’t have to do it. Why do it?”
She spun around once again to face me and pulled at her hair as if she was going to tear it out. I froze, waiting for yelling that never came. Her hands fell to her side and her shoulders caved in, reducing her height by an inch or more.
“It was never supposed to be…I originally did open my account out of, well, desperation. I had bills to pay. Everything was in lockdown. No restaurants were open. It was a crazy idea. And it did well. I think it was my humor. I can be a funny girl, you know?” She tilted her head up, bashful. Adorable. “And then it did really well. Good timing, I guess? Like winning the lottery. And I was making so much money, and I could afford to move out of the crap apartment onto the island like I’d always dreamed, and even if I went back to bartending I couldn’t make as much.”
“I get it.” I paused to let my words sink in. “But now you know me. And you don’t have to pay rent. You won’t have those bills.”
“So, what? I take your money in exchange for what? Huh?” She gave a sad smile then thrust that index finger out into the air. “I do that, and then I am a prostitute. Or I’m like my Mom, counting on a man.”
“No, not at all. It’s a friend helping a friend.”
“With no expectations for more?” She sniffed and tilted her head. She stood before me, broken down, yet an undercurrent of strength shone through her core.
“No expectations…only hope.” She stuck her hip out with that Poppy attitude and shot me a questioning look. I rushed to reassure her. “And if it doesn’t go anywhere, that’s fine. I’m just asking you to give me a chance. But it’s unrelated to my offer to help. I’ve done well. I can afford to help friends out.”
“Well, Mr. Moneybucks, you might be unemployed soon.” She meant it as a tease, but it hit with a slap.
“People will always want to hire me. I’m fucking good at what I do.” Hell, I didn’t even need clients. I could create my own fund. An action I’d definitely considered. Her implications were ridiculous anyway, because I’d never need to work again. I worked because I wanted to.
“I’m sure someone as well educated as you are can always find a job.” She proceeded down the beach, her fire from earlier stoked.
When we arrived at the steps that led back to my house, all the lights had been turned off, and only a few candles lighted the perimeter.
“Luna probably turned off your lights. She’s always worried about the turtles.”
“Huh.”
“I’m gonna head back. I’ll take the path around the house. Gabe, thanks for being a friend. For listening to me. I appreciate it.”
“Any time. But I don’t feel like I did anything.” We still had plenty to talk about. She might not see it, but Poppy needed to end her OnlyFans account, if only for her self-esteem. Maybe some girls could do it and remain assured, but not this sensitive girl.
She waved her fingers in the air as she set off to her cart, avoiding the others. I blew her a kiss, and she smiled. Objective, met.
I watched her hips sway until she rounded the corner of my house, then I climbed the stairs to my deck and my guests.
“Did you figure out what her deal is?” Reed asked as soon as I approached.
“Yeah.”
“So, is there a secret handshake?”
“What?” I asked, not sure I heard him correctly. Out of the corner of my eye, I watched as Luna let in the catering staff who came to clean up. Tate gathered plates to help them.
“I’m willing to pay. I mean, if she only does blowjobs, that’s—
The sound of my fist slamming against his jaw served as my response.
Chapter 18
Poppy
* * *
“Poppy! Why haven’t you been picking up your phone?” Luna’s shrill shout had me lowering the volume as I slowed behind an older driver on
NC-133.
“I turned it off last night. Then I overslept.”
“Well, where are you? I’m at your house with coffee.”
“Aren’t you the sweetest? I’m in transit to my second loan officer meeting. And if I can’t pass this slow car soon, I’m going to be late.”
“Oh, well, I stopped by to tell you all about Saturday night. You didn’t call me back yesterday.”
“What happened?” A break in oncoming traffic gave me an opportunity to gun my car and pass the elderly driver going ten miles below the speed limit.
“Gabe and Reed got into a massive fight.”
“Over what?”
“You!”
“Me?”
“Yeah. Gabe hauled off and punched Reed. Gave him a black eye and a bloody nose. Tate had to break it up. He said he’d never seen Gabe so worked up, and that’s saying a lot because they played lacrosse together in high school.”
A sinking feeling in my stomach told me I must be responsible for the two friends fighting.
“Are you sure it was over me? Why?” When I left Gabe, he’d been calm. I didn’t say anything to put him on the attack, did I?
“Apparently, Reed said something Gabe didn’t like. Tate said he was standing up for you and that Reed seemed to think you were, well…”
“Just say it.”
The sweet girl whispered, “A prostitute.”
“Oh, my lord. Because of my account, he called me a whore, or some similar degrading word, and Gabe punched him?”
“Well, he should have. He likes you, and he stood up for you. You’re not a prostitute. He can’t assume he can buy you simply because you have an account selling photos. I doubt lingerie models have to deal with this. Just because you have subscribers who pay you doesn’t mean you need to deal with scumbags.”
“You’re right. Obviously. But, for the record, I wasn’t going to put up with Reed anyway. That’s why I left when I did. But I’m touched Gabe…wow.” Never in my life had anyone stood up for me. Even on the playground when Joel, this snotty-nosed mean kid teased me by calling out “Floppy Poppy” because I had chubby cheeks and what he coined a floppy belly, Mrs. Ingersoll would tell him to stop calling names, but he never got in trouble. And because there were no repercussions, it became a game, and Floppy Poppy haunted me all the way through middle school.