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I flipped my phone over, ignoring her question as the noise sounded a second time. I knew exactly what that noise was for, but that didn’t prepare me for the numbers flashing on my screen.
CashPay:
$1000 from Dalton55
Ari, no one is going to believe this if I don’t at least have your number…
CashPay:
$1000 from Dalton55
If you don’t text me back I’m going to start sending higher dollar amounts. Which, weirdly enough, would only entice others not to respond…but I have a feeling you’d be pissed. (214)601-3330
“Dios mío,” Gracie said from beside me.
My cousin was loud ninety-nine percent of the time, but the other one percent she went into CIA mode and would pop up where you least expected. Like over my shoulder, trying to sneak a peek. I pulled my phone away, but it was too late.
“Did he just send you two grand? He’s like a sugar daddy! Forget working, let him pay for shit.”
“Graciella.” I shot her a look, but she just smirked and started listing off all the things I should let Dalton buy me. Most of them being food.
“Wait.” She stopped mid-kitchen pace. “Why is he messaging you over a payment app?”
She had CIA-level observational skills, too, apparently.
“Because I didn’t give him my phone number,” I mumbled, picking at the callouses on my palm to avoid eye contact. There was a slight pause before Gracie busted up in laughter.
She dropped onto the couch, her legs kicking up as she gasped for air. “¡A la verga! Ariella.” Sitting up, she pointed a perfectly manicured finger at me. “That’s the definition of if he wanted to, he would. How many times has he sent you messages on there?”
I could feel the beads of sweat above my upper lip; they appeared when I was nervous or embarrassed. “I don’t know, like six or seven…or more.”
“Have you answered him?”
“No. I told you it was supposed to be a one-night thing, Gracie. I don’t have time for boys.”
A second later, a blur of pale pink smacked me in the side of the head. “Did you just throw a pillow at me?” I yelled, tossing it back.
She signed and pinched the bridge of her nose. “Porque eres una idiota, Ariella. Text that man back before you do lose your job. How long do you think he will be nice to you if you ignore him?”
I groaned, staring down at my phone. Dammit, she was right.
Before I could chicken out, I opened my texts and typed a quick message.
Me:
Let’s meet up and go over our story and, you know, set some ground rules for this whole…situation.
He responded almost immediately.
Dalton:
Please tell me this is you Ari.
Me:
And if it wasn’t?
Dalton:
