Page 197 of The Billionaires

Oh. Great.

It’s Champ, smoking a cigarette.

Grr. Since the party, I’ve done my best to prevent Colossus and Champ from meeting, and as a bonus, I’ve also been spared from having to accidentally smell Champ’s horrid breath again.

Despite all the socialization training, Colossus doesn’t run to Champ, but he also doesn’t bark at him or anything. The puppy simply couldn’t care less about this particular human, which, for this now-friendly dog, is almost equivalent to pure hate.

“I’m glad I’ve finally run into you,” Champ says.

Finally? How often has he smoked here in the hopes of meeting us?

“Aren’t you allergic?” I gesture at the dog.

Champ frowns at Colossus. “I wanted to run into you, not it. Not that I can inhale fur in the great outdoors.”

Usually dander and saliva cause the allergies, not fur, but I don’t want to needlessly prolong this conversation, so I keep quiet and look at Champ expectantly.

Champ looks furtively around before loudly whispering, “Can we talk?”

I think fast. “Sorry. Maybe another time? Colossus is thirsty, and so am I.”

“Ah.” Champ throws his cigarette on the ground and stomps on it with his tennis shoe. “I guess I’ll catch you later.”

Hopefully not. I only need to avoid him for one more day.

Heading straight for the garage, I unhook Colossus’s leash and take him to the kitchen for drinks and snacks.

As we enter, I see the strategic mistake I made outside. By mentioning thirst, I all but told Champ where I was headed.

And he really wants to chat because here he is, pretending like he’s in the kitchen by accident.

Ignoring him, I pour Colossus some water and take out a lick mat with his breakfast.

Before I can take my own food out, Champ walks over and looks around before whispering, “Can I now have a moment of your time?”

I breathe through my mouth. “What’s up?”

“I was wondering about your… rates,” Champ says, still in a whisper.

I blink at him. “My rates?” He’s allergic to dogs, so why would he care?

“The price,” he explains. “For… you know.”

I take a step back. “I don’t think I do know.” And a gut feeling is telling me that I would not like to find out.

Champ advances on me, so I’m hit with his breath again and wonder how he has managed to eat so much garlic so early in the day. “I know about your trips to Bruce’s bedroom… at night.”

“Excuse me?” I don’t think I’d be this shaken if he’d put out a cigarette on my forehead.

“Please, keep it down.” He backs up a step. “I’m not saying there is anything wrong with… sex work. It’s?—”

My blood feels like it’s about to explode. “I’m not a whore!” My hands ball into tight fists, and I’m itching to punch him right in the little bit of space between his eyes.

Champ frowns. “Why throw nasty labels around? I was just asking if you could do for me what you do for Bruce.”

My nostrils flare. “I don’t do sex work for him.”

He rolls his eyes. “You and he are not a couple, right? He pays you, right? You sleep with him, right? Whatever you call that arrangement, I want one too, while we’re still here.”

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