Page 32 of Flipping the Script

“What are you going to do?” Ez asked.

“Block the number, ignore it, and hope this is it.”

“Maybe you should tell someone?” Jett suggested.

“I can’t. How am I supposed to explain that one of my former clients is annoying me without incriminating myself? And it’s not like anyone would care if I did. Texting someone isn’t illegal.”

“Texting someone who’s explicitly told you to stop texting them is,” Ez pointed out. “And it’s not like he’s only stuck to text. He violated your agreement when he figured out your real identity. That’s not just being annoying. That’s harassment.”

My stomach flip-flopped.

I’d spent almost two years working as an escort and only had one customer who’d blurred the lines between sex worker and client and developed feelings for me.

I’d known it was a possibility, especially with the types of arrangements I’d made, but I’d arrogantly assumed that using a pseudonym and being careful to not reveal any personal information would be enough to protect me if someone got a crush on me.

I hadn’t accounted for the internet and how impossible it was to completely hide your digital footprint from people who knew how to track them.

Not only had he learned my real name, but he knew where I worked and where I lived, and he had my personal cell number.

I wasn’t afraid of him or what he’d do to me. He wasn’t dangerous. He was just lonely and confused about what we’d been to each other.

But the fear that my secret would somehow come out was enough to make my blood run cold.

Escorting was illegal. It didn’t matter that I’d mostly stuck to companion arrangements to try and skirt that line between what was and wasn’t considered prostitution. I’d still done it, and I had no idea if I could catch a charge for it after the fact. Google hadn’t been all that helpful the million times I’d tried to find out, and it wasn’t like I could just call up a lawyer and ask.

Even without getting arrested or charged, the truth could destroy my life and everything I’d worked for. My bosses were awesome, and so were the guys I worked with, but I had no idea how they’d react if they found out about my past.

My family knew, and the friends who mattered also knew, but I couldn’t risk anyone else finding out.

“Maybe,” I said, more to end the conversation than because I was actually considering reporting him to someone. “But I don’t really want to talk about it right now.”

Wes nodded in understanding, but Ez’s look was shrewd. He knew I was talking out of my ass, but at least he had the decency to not call me out on it.

I finished the last of my water as Wes and Jett told me about how they’d learned to line dance while wearing the drywall stilts they needed for their current build.

I listened with half an ear, chuckling in the appropriate places as I tried to ignore the little snippets of laughter and muffled voices coming from behind me.

“And then River started walking on the ceiling like a spider-pig.”

“Oh yeah?” I shook my head as his words registered. “Wait, what?” I blinked a few times, clearing my vision and focusing onWes’s smirking face. I’d completely zoned out. How much of the conversation had I missed?

“Welcome back,” Wes said. “Have a nice trip?”

I pinned him with a look and went to take a sip from my water, the cap reminding me it was empty.

“I’m going to get another.” I looked around.

“Cooler’s over there.” Jett pointed to a log bench right next to Sebastian and his new besties.

“Of course it is,” I muttered.

I was being a dick. I knew that. Wes and Ez weren’t just my oldest and closest friends; they were my family. I hated shutting them out like this, especially after I’d torn them a new one when they’d done the same to me while they’d been figuring out things with Jett.

I just needed to get over this bad mood, forget all about what had gone down with Sebastian, and everything would go back to normal.

Resolved, I crossed over to the crowd, waving and greeting the various people who said hi to me first.

I didn’t look at Sebastian as I cut right through the center of his little circle and walked past him. I didn’t have to do that, and it would have been easier to go around, but the urge had hit, and instead of fighting it, I’d gone with it.

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