Page 27 of My Rules

He disappears inside, and I smile in relief. That wasn’t half as embarrassing as I thought it was going to be. Blake is the only one I would trust to help me with this. He’s the most unjudgy person I know, and besides ... he knows what images will sell. If anyone knows porn, it’s him.

We start this tonight, and tomorrow, I tell John to stop paying my bills.

He can go to hell.

I’ve cleaned my house until you could eat off the floor, and suddenly I’m feeling reinvigorated. This is it; this is the answer I’ve been searching for.

Sell a few anonymous foot pictures, and voilà, the house is saved.

I smile as I buzz around with a spring in my step. Things are looking up.

Right at eight, knock, knock.

I open the door to see Blake standing on my porch with his big fancy camera.

“Hello.” I smile.

“Hi.”

“Why are you wearing a scarf?”

“I’ve got a stiff neck and need to keep it warm.”

“Oh ...” I frown. “When did you do that?”

“Last night.”

“Are you okay?”

“Fine. Professional Foot Finder at your service.” He dips his head as he walks past me, and I giggle.

“Is this crazy?”

“Totally.” He looks around my house. “Listen, I was thinking you should be naked for these photos.”

“I knew you were going to say that.” I smirk. “Upstairs, pervert.” I head to the stairs, and he follows me up. “So, how does this work?”

“I was googling it before I came over. I think we set up a profile, pick a name for you, and upload a few shots. Then people subscribe or something, and they get access. And if you want, you can charge for specials or whatever.”

I walk into my bedroom. “Specials—what does that mean?”

“People can request things and pay extra for it.”

“Like what?” I frown.

“I don’t know, fucking ice cream on your toes or some shit.” He flops onto my bed and lies across it.

“Why would anyone want to see ice cream on my toes?” I frown, horrified.

“Why would anyone jerk off to a photo of a foot is the question,” he mutters dryly.

“You think they’re jerking off to this?”

“One hundred percent.”

“Eeewww.” I screw up my face in disgust.

“Who fucking cares? Just show us the cash is what I say.” He begins to scroll on his phone. “I’m going to join.”

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