Page 68 of Catfish

“A month?” I repeat. Shit, it took Sadie and me three months to plan their anniversary party.

Mrs. Montgomery wanted fresh fish flown in from Maine, macarons sent in from Paris, Cuban cigars shipped in, and golden phoenix cupcakes to go along with her cake from Dubai. I earned every single penny with the amount of work I put in for that party.

“Before I can discuss any more details in regards to this soiree, however, I need you to sign an NDA.”

Red flags wave violently in my face. Ones that shockingly don’t stun me.

Why should it, his paid prostitute showed up at his anniversary party. There wasn’t going to be a bouncy house and a keg of beer for his son’s event.

You knew this shit would happen, so charge the asshole an arm and a leg.

“What day are you free?” I ask as my phone buzzes in my hand.

I’m going to do this.

I’m going to take every dollar from every shady-ass politician and use it to help my family.

“I can make time for you,” Montgomery replies. “You take a look at your calendar and let me know.”

“Is this a good number to call you or your assistant back at?”

“It is.”

“Perfect, you’ll hear back from me within twenty-four hours, Mr. Montgomery.”

“I look forward to it, Miss Shelton.” He hangs up, leaving me to stare at my mama’s picture on the fridge.

She’s the reason I live and breathe this job filled with vile men and women who make you want to rethink the whole country and how it’s run.

Glancing down at my cell, I view the text message that came through, then that view turns blood red.

Grant: Heard you were back in town, want to meet up for lunch?

Me: You read my mind, I was meaning to text you to tell you to fuck off again with my mother’s house and your hired help. Didn’t get a response to my last message.

Me: We both know you’re not over there getting those perfectly manicured hands dirty.

Grant: It’s nice to hear from you, Vixen.

I fucking hate that nickname.

Vixen wasn't an endearment; it was a fucking pet name—a piece of property. One he used to call me after every lavish party, telling me that every man wished they could have me under them. That he was the luckiest son of a bitch in the world to get to fuck me.

Not because he liked me.

Half of it was my fault. When Jed's father fired Mama, I was livid pissed. I threw the blame at him, didn't feel like he was strong enough for me, and that he let me down.

So I fucked his brother.

Then dated him.

Showed up at every single family gathering or social event to rub it in Jed’s face. To parade around the notion that I loathed him. That Mama was never going to be able to afford cancer treatments with no insurance because of him.

When Marty joined the Marines, I despised him even more. I was losing my brother to save Mama. Something that should’ve never had to happen. And the worst part at the time, was that I got off on seeing Jed’s face, full of anguish, every single time.

When weeks turned into months and months turned into several years, my hatred turned into maturity. However, it was too late to save anything. I destroyed our relationship and shit on the pieces.

But I got my karma in the long run.

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