Page 32 of Kiss Me, Mr. Bridge

“Of course she did. She owns it,” Amelia adds.

“He has an amazing cock,” Violet says. “And he enjoyed fucking me from behind.”

“Win. Win. So, how much have you made in total?” I ask.

Violet’s smile widens. “As of today? One hundred thousand dollars, and the reason for the celebration.”

“No way,” I say, nearly choking on my wine. “You’ve only been on the website for what? A couple of months.”

“Five months.” Violet grins. “Every month is better than the last. This month I earned forty thousand dollars.”

“Wow!” Amelia gulps another sip of her wine. She stares at Violet’s bracelet. “And then there’s the jewelry and the car.”

Violet holds her hand in the air. “Oh yeah!”

“I couldn’t have a sugar daddy,” Amelia adds. “My dad would kill me if he found out.”

I swallow and stare at my glass of red.

“But I think Lucia has something to share with us,” Amelia continues.

“What? I…I’m not sharing anything.”

Violet laughs. “Wow. You’ve gone as red as a cherry.”

“But I doubt Lucia’s got a sugar daddy...” Amelia’s eyes narrow on the bite mark she found on my neck when I came home this morning. “Hickies are a younger man’s thing.”

“Oh my god. Tell us who it is,” Violet cuts in.

“There’s nothing to tell.” I curl deeper into the couch cushions.

“Yes, there is. You’ve been sneaking around like a teenager.” Amelia points her wineglass at me. “And those shoes you try to hide in your closet cost more than our rent. Rent you claim you can’t afford.”

“I got a bonus.” I wave off her suspicion. “Work’s been crazy, and we all got a little extra for our hard work.”

My god, my lies are getting worse.

“And can you explain why you didn’t come home last night?” Amelia raises an eyebrow.

“I was at Nadia’s.” The lie tastes bitter on my tongue.

“Sure you were.” Amelia grins. “A night out is worth at least five grand to the right daddy.”

“Oh please, more like ten.” Violet swirls her wine. “Especially if he’s loaded because whoever is buying her those designer dresses and expensive shoes will have plenty of cash.”

Amelia laughs. “You joined the website, didn’t you?”

“No!”

“Come on, Luce. Tell us. We won’t tell,” Violet adds. “Men our age do not send expensive dresses and shoes for dates. And if a man never sent them, then where are you getting the money from?”

“Will you two stop?” I shift and my elbow catches Amelia’s glass. Red wine splashes across my cream sweater. “Damn it!”

I bolt for my bedroom, yanking my phone out and sending Ronan a message:

We should forget about tonight. Maybe cool it a little. Amelia is still suspicious. She and Violet are teasing me.

“Get back here!” Amelia calls after me. “We’re not done interrogating you!”

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