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Connor’s eyes are wide. Shocked. Horrified. He points a thumb at the door behind him.
“Did he put you up to this? Josh? Has he got you involved in some seedy den or something?”
I pull a face. “A seedy den? Uh, no. And no, Josh definitely didn’t put me up to anything.”
Connor looks at me like I’m insane. He holds out his hands, like he’s trying to talk me down from hysteria.
“I can get you out of here. Don’t worry. I’ve got contacts now. Carly wasn’t lying. My platform is growing, and we can run soon, me and you. Just a few more viral videos, and I’ll be on my way to the top.”
Oh, right. I see.
He thinks I need saving.
He thinks I need saving from spreading my legs for cash, but that’s ok, because he’ll help me, yeah.
Just as soon as his career takes off. Just like fucking always.
Fuck retching like a mess on Heather and Phil’s floor. I’m done with it.
“I don’t need your help anymore, Connor, not that you ever gave it anyway. You and your viral videos can fuck right off. Just leave me the hell alone, will you?”
He lowers his eyebrows, like he always used to do when we were arguing.
“Hey, hold up a minute. You fuck men for money. Of course you need my help!”
“Why?”
He taps the side of his head. “Because you’ve lost your fucking mind!”
“No, you tosser! I’ve found my fucking mind. You’re the one who sent me batshit. Being an entertainer made me sane again.”
“An entertainer?!” He glares at me, shaking his head. “You fuck guys for cash. That’s not an entertainer. That’s a prostitute! It’s a fucking whore!”
“It is an entertainer,” I tell him. “And it’s not just guys I fuck, actually. It’s people. My client profile is quite varied.”
“And the purple haired freak in there? He’s doing this with you, is he?”
“Josh is an entertainer, yes, but he doesn’t do it with me. We’re not a double act. He’s my boyfriend, not my coworker.” I curse myself as I realise what I’m doing. I’m justifying myself to an asshole. “And even if we were a double act,” I say, “it’s none of your fucking business. How about you stay focused on your sweet little Carly and viral videos, and I’ll keep focused on my own shit? We’re done, thanks.”
I go for the door, but he holds it closed.
“We’re not done. We’re sitting at the same dinner table, and your boyfriend is my girlfriend’s fucking brother. And even if we weren’t, it wouldn’t make any difference. I don’t want you being a fucking whore, Ella. No way.”
I fold my arms across my chest, finally finding my backbone.
“Really? Well, I do want to be a fucking whore. So chow it down, bastard.”
He scoffs at me. “You want to be a whore? For real?”
“Yes. For real. I love being a whore.”
“And how about your parents? Do they love you being a whore as well?”
Oh shit. My newly found backbone disappears, and my mouth drops open in pure, abject fear. Connor’s got me, and he knows it. He raises his eyebrows.
“You haven’t told them, have you? Of course you haven’t.”
“That’s none of your business.”
