Page 74 of Mid-Thirties Slightly Hot Mess Female Seeking Billionaire

Dear Diary,

I am going to die. Please don't miss me too much. You may visit me at the cemetery anytime. I cannot believe my luck. I guess I really wasn't joking when I said I was a hot mess.

Always yours, sunny and silly Sarah.

"Oh my gosh, Isabel," I whisper to my friend on the phone as I run around my apartment tidying up. "What did I do?"

"I do not know what you were thinking, Sarah," she says, and I can tell that there's a tone of amusement in her voice. "I thought you said you weren't that good yet."

"I mean, I'm not the best in the class, but I'm okay. At least that's what the teacher told me."

"Are you sure the teacher didn't tell you that because she wants to make more money from you?"

I think back to my pole dancing lessons and how the teacher had told me I was one of the best in the class. I bite down on my lower lip because I know what Isabel is saying is correct. I'm not the worst in the class, but that's because the worst woman in the class can't even get up the pole at all.

"Okay. You might be a little bit right, but that's not going to help me right now because he's coming over and I think he'll be here within an hour."

"I mean, who knows? Maybe he will like your moves," Isabel says doubtfully. "Though, I'm very confused as to why you invited your boss over, seeing as..."

"Not now," I glare into the phone and sigh. "Do not ask me why I invited Ethan over."

"I mean, I know why you invited Ethan over," Isabel giggles. "Because you love him, because you want to do him," she sings and I wrinkle my nose.

"I do not love him. Are you crazy?"

"I was just joking, but I think you're being very defensive right now." She pauses. "You're not developing feelings for this douche bag, are you?"

"Would I develop feelings for a douche bag?"

"Yes," she says adamantly. “Yes, you would."

"I know. Okay, so there's something that I have to admit."

"Oh my gosh. Please do not tell me you're in love with this man." She groans. "If you think you're in love with him, you need to send him a message and tell him to go home and not bother coming over."

"I'm not in love with him. I mean, I think he's funny and I think he's cute and you know I have for a long time."

"Yeah, but that was fine when he was ignoring you," she says. "Because then it was just a fantasy in your head. Now he's been inside of you. That means something."

I groan loudly. "Why do I cringe every time you say that?"

"I don't know," she says, laughing. "I mean, how old are you if you cringe when I say he was inside of you?"

"I think I could be 60 or 70 and I would still be cringing thinking about that."

"You weren't cringing when he was doing you though."

"Oh my gosh, Isabel," I scream at her and she bursts out laughing.

"I'm glad I can make you laugh. I'm just trying to lighten the mood for you."

"Should I just tell him I was joking?"

"No. You need that 20 grand, right?"

"Of course I need 20 grand. Don't you need 20 grand?"

"Yes, and if you want to send him over to my house, I'll give him a lap dance for 20 grand."

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