Page 21 of Picture Perfect

I raised my eyebrows. That had been more than I would have hoped for. I’d been willing to settle for just the most suggestive and revealing—and, perhaps, the ones where my face was easy to identify. But all of them? This was too good to be true—and my widening smile might have said that plainly. I nodded, though, unable to speak.

My gesture was enough to communicate to Greg that I was game.

“Now I know from our first conversation that my monetary price is out of your range.”

I managed to squeak out, “One hundred thousand.”

He gave a small nod. “Honestly, those photos are worth more to me but I would sell them to you for that price.” Oh, how generous. I bit my tongue. Math wasn’t my strong suit, but I knew that, even without interest, I would have to model for Greg for free on a weekly basis for years to pay off that amount. And, honestly, I imagined people would get sick of seeing my face on cover after cover after cover. I knew I would.

But my brain was still on the offers I’d made Greg. He had something else in mind—and I needed to pay attention. He took a deep breath as a serious expression covered his face, shrouding his thoughts. “But you have something I desire more than money, Ivy.”

I couldn’t help it. I felt my eyes widen at his words. So much for being a poker player—and that alone likely amplified the fear and desperation I felt deep down, reminding Greg that he most certainly had the upper hand. I’d given him that power by not controlling my emotions. I swallowed, blinking, silently praying that Greg wasn’t the vile creature I suspected he was revealing himself to be.

His hand covered mine in an intimate gesture and I looked down. My mind was reeling and I was screaming inside for him to just get it over with. When I forced my eyes to make contact with his, I thought I saw a glint in them—but that could have been my imagination playing tricks on me. “They say that sex is the oldest profession.”

Why my voice chose to make itself known at that point, I would never know. “Actually, it’s prostitution.”

“Well, if you want to be so crass, okay. We can call it that. And, I suppose, given your intellect, I don’t have to mince words or be delicate, do I?” Was he making a subtle dig at me? With my emotions heightened and my nerves taut, I couldn’t tell—and I didn’t trust myself to be a decent judge of intent at this moment. “If you’re not willing—or able—to pay me my asking price, I’m willing to take payment in other ways.”

“Illegal ways.”

Greg sighed and started sliding out of the booth. “Obviously, you’re not willing to have this conversation, despite your pleas to the contrary.”

Desperation once more reared her ugly head and I grabbed Greg’s arm. “No, I am.” I closed my eyes and sucked down a breath, ready to swallow my pride and any morals I thought I had, along with my belief in the innate goodness of man. This particular person was playing as dirty as he could, and I needed to just get over it and agree to whatever he proposed. “Please continue.” Now I merely needed to shut my mouth, let him talk, and agree when he was done.

“Don’t worry, Ivy. We’ll start slow. I want it—” He placed a finger on my hand once more and began tracing a pattern over the skin. Considering the position I was now in, it took everything in my power to leave my hand still to allow him to do that. But I was beginning to revile him now—and he hadn’t even gotten to the good part yet. He looked in my eyes to emphasize his words. “I want it to feel as natural as possible.” I swallowed once more, fighting a feeling of nausea brewing in my gut. “So we’ll start with a little strip tease in my studio—a private show, if you will, just for me. But we won’t stop there. I’m going to take you in ways you never imagined and I’m going to do it again and again and again until I’m sick of you. And then your debt will be paid.” I could barely breathe. “I’ll even release those photographs to you in writing.”

In spite of the fact that my emotions were now in utter turmoil, the rational side of my brain kicked in. “You didn’t specifically say how long. I need to know that.”

His lip twitched. “I said until I get sick of you.” My stomach sloshed as a feeling of vertigo washed over me. Was this even real? But I knew it was. What I needed at this point—if I were to agree to selling my soul to this disgusting man—was to know how long. I could endure it if I could see the end.

And he knew that. He could see it in my eyes. “Well, you and I both have obligations we must tend to. I imagine you have things you need to do for your school and your other job.” I wasn’t even going to let him know I was at the point where I had to decide where I wanted to begin my career in earnest—and it might not be the university I was earning my degree from. Ideally, this bullshit would be done by summer so I could freely go where I needed—but I couldn’t give him more leverage by letting on. “Why don’t we say that I have access every night after, say, seven o’clock until two in the morning—can you agree to that?” I could if I knew it wasn’t going to be five years, but I kept my mouth shut and gave half a nod. Right now, I couldn’t wrap my mind around the fact that it meant I’d have no freedom—and only heaven knew what kind of kink this man was into. But I couldn’t think about that. Not at this moment. Seeing my assent, he continued. “Then…let’s say a year. By Christmas of next year, you’ll be done.” My eyes grew wide again but I knew a year was better than what it could have been. “Ivy, one hundred thousand dollars is a lot of money. Basically, I’m telling you you’re worth thousands of dollars a month.” His voice grew deep and sinister then, even though his eyes seemed calm. “I’m giving you a bargain.”

It might have felt that way to him, but I knew I really was selling to him everything I believed in. I’d have to get over it, of course, but he was ruining my life. My brain scrambled, and I knew I’d have to figure out how to put off finding another job—maybe teaching for the university here for a year if I could—but those were details I’d have to iron out on my own.

I had to seem amenable, because I had to agree to it. Heaven knew what he’d do at this point if I reneged, now that he knew how much this meant to me. So I nodded. “Okay.”

“How about we start on New Year’s Day—and we go the entire year? That should be easy for us both to remember. And, in the spirit of generosity, I’ll give you holidays off. After all, I’m sure you’ll want to spend time with family and such.”

I wasn’t going to tell him I didn’t do holidays much. Sometimes I’d visit a cousin out of state or something like that but mostly it meant I had some time off. That was it. Still, if it meant I could have a brief vacation from whatever hell this man was going to put me through, so be it. I forced my jaw to relax and extended my hand, almost ready to shake on it…but I just couldn’t. I wasn’t ready. “Can I have some time to think about it?”

Greg considered me like an item on the buffet table, finally answering, “Twenty-four hours. After that, I withdraw my offer.” I nodded, letting him know I understood, pursing my lips so I’d say no more.

If ever I’d felt like I’d been bargaining with the devil…this was it.

* * *

I didn’t know who I’d been kidding—Greg or myself—when I’d asked for time to think. My mind had already been made up before we’d walked out the door of the restaurant. I was going to do this.

I just had to get my head in the game.

Once home, I rifled through my closet, looking for something appropriate to wear to meet Shane’s parents for the first—and probably last—time. I felt like Scarlett O’Hara going to Ashley’s birthday party in the revealing burgundy dress, that I wasn’t allowed to wear anything “modest,” as Rhett would have said. No—I needed to wear something that would reveal my inner nature. Hester Prynne had to wear a red A for adultery. Perhaps I could wear a W…because I already felt like a whore, even though I hadn’t engaged in the act yet.

I would need to tell Shane. I knew that…but I didn’t want to ruin the evening. Meeting his family? That was a huge deal—I understood that—but I hadn’t felt a sense of family in eons and I was looking forward to that interaction. If Shane’s family was anything like he was, then I knew I’d love them.

The doorbell rang while I was still staring into my closet, wearing nothing but my lacy white matching underwear. Stupid. Choosing shouldn’t be that difficult. I knew I wanted to wear a dress, so I had to simply grab one and throw it on. How hard could that be?

But my strange emotions made me confused, indecisive, and distracted. I snatched my short pink robe off the bedpost, darting through my apartment to the front door. When I let Shane in, I said, “Sorry. I just need to get dressed and then I’ll be ready.”

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