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She stared at me over the desk. “Mr. Steele doesn’t like brats, but I don’t think that will be a problem with you. Will it?”
“I, well, uh, no… I don’t think so,” I said. “Why would I be a brat when he’s giving me what I’m looking for?”
“You’d be surprised,” Catherine said. “Some girls with a praise kink enjoy being brats. It makes the praise when they’re well behaved that much sweeter to them. Which is fine, but Mr. Steele is a client we would very much like to keep happy, and he does not like brats.”
“I’m not a brat,” I said softly as Catherine motioned for me to give her the iPad. I handed it over, hoping like hell that I was right about the brat thing. I didn’t think I was, but maybe I was, and that was part of the reason I disappointed my parents and all my previous boyfriends.
Catherine handed me the iPad, and I looked at the screen. The air was sucked out of my lungs, and my jaw dropped as I stared at the man looking back at me. He looked in his early thirties with dark hair cut short, an angled jaw, and dark brown eyes. He was handsome. Downright beautiful, in fact, and something in my lower belly twisted. Unlike my profile picture, his picture cut off just below his chest, but I had no doubt that his body was perfect. His shoulders were broad, and the dark blue Henley he wore emphasized his wide chest and muscular upper arms. Just thinking that this god of a man might tell me I was his good girl made my clit come alive with little pulses of pleasure. I squeezed my thighs together to ease the way my clit suddenly ached.
I was being ridiculous anyway. Mr. Steele would take one look at my full body profile picture and decline. A man like him would want perfection, and my round belly and lack of thigh gap were far from perfect.
“What do you think?” Celeste asked.
“He’s handsome,” I said.
“He’s one of our better looking clients,” Catherine acknowledged. “He’s looking for a secretary for his play scenes, which shouldn’t be an issue for you.”
I coughed nervous laughter. “No, not at all.”
“If he has the same schedule preference, he’ll want you for one two-hour session on a weekday evening and another on Sunday afternoon. I know you’ve said only weekends, but one evening a week would give you a bump in pay,” Catherine said.
“I could do an evening a week as long as he’s okay with a potential last-minute schedule change if I have to work longer at my day job,” I said.
“I’m sure he would be accommodating. Should I send him your profile information?” Celeste asked.
“Yes,” I said as a weird combination of disappointment and relief washed over me. Mr. Steele wouldn’t want me, giving me a day or two of breathing room before I had to choose another. Maybe by then, there would be another on the list that I’d want to … service.
“Good,” Catherine said briskly, taking back the iPad. “We’ll send Mr. Steele your information, and if he chooses you, we’ll email you the details.”
“Thank you.” I stood, my knees weirdly wobbly. “I appreciate you giving me an extra chance.”
I meant what I said, and perhaps Catherine heard the sincerity in my voice because her face softened slightly. “You’re welcome, Riley.”
CHAPTER 2
Riley
“Ella, I gotta go,” I said.
“Five more minutes, Ry.” Ella propped her phone on an unseen table and leaned forward to stare at me through my small screen. “Why can I see your breath?”
“Because I’m in my car, and it’s frickin’ freezing here, even in the parking garage,” I said. “You’ve only been in Australia for two months. Have you already forgotten that we get cold and snowy in the winter?”
She laughed. “Turn your heater on, you dork.”
“I can’t. Marvin’s been making some real suspicious noises lately, and I’m afraid if I run him too much when I don’t need to, it’ll shorten his life span.”
“You need a new car, honey.”
“Yeah, I know,” I said. “How are things there?”
“Fine. I don’t want to talk about me right now. I want to talk about you and your,” she made air quotes with her fingers, “second job.”
“We just spent the last twenty minutes talking about it, and my lunch break is almost over,” I said.
“I’m worried about you,” Ella said. “I wish like fuck that we’d never gone out with Maria that night. You would never have known about this weird sex agency if it hadn’t been for her.”
“It’s not a sex agency,” I said. “It’s a sort of dating agency that matches people up based on their kinks.”
