Page 131 of Masks and Mishaps

Standing next to my father, I look at Dalton and finally relax. The moment is surreal, and certainly not something I saw coming when my father came back into my life.

But Dalton and I did it together. We put a family back together—and I can’t imagine a better partner than him.

“So,” Dalton says, glancing at his watch before he scans the room, “anyone want to check out Salem?”

Forty-Eight

ESSIE

Whenwearrivebackin DC around ten, the familiar bite of pre-snow air surrounds us, sharp and perfect for a drink. We’re the first ones at Smoke and Shadow, so we claim a table and Dalton gets us two tequila sodas.

“You were texting a lot in Salem,” I mention, watching him type on his phone. “And at Cracker Barrel too. Everything okay?”

But before he responds, my phone lights up with a call.

“Take it,” he urges.

I shoot him a puzzled look before I accept the call. A familiar voice answers with, “You’re all anyone can talk about.”

“Claudia,” I say, locking my eyes on Dalton, whose arms are folded across his chest—and he’s not visibly surprised to hear Claudia’s name like he should be. “It sounds like you know Dalton and I aren’t working at Hannington-Hale anymore. If you’re calling about your money, I don’t have updates, unfortunately.”

“Please. I pulled my funds from the bank the moment Hannington called and said he was introducing me to a new VP. I only stuck around because of you and Cavendish.”

“…Can I ask why?”

“On the worst day of my life, you took care of me and you didn’t even know who I was. More importantly, you told me what I needed to hear,” she replies before pausing. “Plus, you said you were fucking your stepbrother, so I had someone look into you and I learned that not only were you fucking your stepbrother, but you were also filming it. Obsessed, by the way. It’s so unbelievably messy.”

“We like a little mess.”

“Same,” Claudia agrees. “And I’m calling because a week ago, I invested thirty million dollars in you. What if I did it again?”

I look at Dalton, and I now have a strong suspicion about why he was texting so much. He’s nodding at me, and I can’t help but smile back. “Well, as a camgirl, I pay a tithe of my earnings to the platform that hosts my account.”

“Bullshit.”

“Exactly. So, with capital, I would build an alternative to the camming platforms we currently have, but with a change: no cut for the host sites. More people could get into sex work and keep the money they earn.”

“You’re saying you would build a site where sex workers keep all their subscriptions and tips.”

“And not only that,” I go on, “but they’d be able to make sex work a career—the way my two best friends and I have—through data and better algorithms to find the right customers and subscribers.”

Claudia is quiet after I finish pitching. I look up at Dalton again and raise my eyebrows.

“Close the deal,” he mouths.

“Invest five hundred thousand to help me develop a business case and a minimum viable product. I’ll build the prototype site, and Dalton will handle the business aspects: a plan, a pitch deck, and branding.”

“You want me to invest half a million dollars into sex work,” Claudia clarifies.

“Yes.”

“Absolutely not.”

My heart sinks immediately, and I’m about to apologize—something I’m trying to do less—when Dalton holds up a hand.Wait.

“A million,” Claudia counters, “over three years. You’ll work better if you’re not worried about moving fast. We’ll do an annual review every year to determine if you need another round of funding.”

“I’d consider those terms,” I reply before mouthing at Dalton,“Oh my god.”

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