Page 3 of Confusing Cade
I sounded firm and resolved. Thankfully, Kyra took thenot-so-subtlehint and changed the topic. Talking about her woes and funny experiences lifted my spirits. As usual. After my third yawn, Kyra told me not to be a stranger and hung up.
I couldn’t stop thinking about what she’d said, though.Her cousin in Miami made over a million bucks...The comment rattled around in my thoughts and grew louder by the second. A million bucks? Surely,Iwouldn’t earn that kind of money. Probably only one or two accounts had the following for that type of payload.
But what if I somehow managed to earn five thousand a month? Or ten? Or even a few hundred?
It could make a difference. Maybe it would be a side hustle of sorts. That wouldn’t be so bad, would it? It would give my budget a little breathing room. Maybe it would even stop me from getting emails like the nastygram I’d gotten from Lilly’s school.
I opened the internet browser on my phone and did a quick search. Kyra was right, at least about the money piece of the whole idea. FanZonewaslucrative for some people and more than I expected. I found plenty of articles about this influenceror that model making life-changing money just by posting “content” on the platform. It was also one of the fastest-growing websites in the world, quickly gaining on Facebook, Instagram, and TikTok. “Creators” were finding plenty of ways to grow a fan base. Merchandise, private chats, product tie-ins...
Still...
After scanning my tenth article, I downloaded the app and scrolled through a few pages of profiles. Ninety percent were women around my age. Most were thin, conventionally pretty, and well-versed in how to pose for a camera. Several teased X-rated experiences as part of premium subscriptions. Many had thousands of followers.
Can I really make money doing this?
I got off the bed and staggered to the small bathroom. The overhead light was harsh and unforgiving as I peered at the mirror hanging above the sink. I wasn’t gorgeous in a Victoria’s Secret model kind of way. I wouldn’t say I had unique features, either. Northern Italian. Small nose, blue eyes, honey-brown hair, and a decent pair of perky B-cub boobs. Nothing unconventional, but if I tossed some charm on top, maybe I could get by. Makeup might help. And good lighting.Excellentlighting.
I scrolled through the iCloud photos stored on my phone. It didn’t take me long to find a folder of five-year-old swimsuit photos taken during the last vacation I’d had before my world came crashing down. Cabo San Lucas. The Argyle Resort. Me, still carefree and hopeful. An old boyfriend behind the lens. I hardly recognized the woman staring back at me, but she was still me. I shifted through the images and selected five or six of the best ones. Then, I opened the FanZone app and clicked Join.
Less than ten minutes later, it was done. I locked the device and tossed it on my bed. I was officially on the app using thehandle @marie0505, a combination of my middle name and my birthday.
Probably won’t get any subscribers, but at least I’ve tried.
CHAPTER TWO
CADE
“I’ll see you tomorrow, just after seven,” Gordon Rivers said as our phone conversation wound down. It was almost nine, and this was my last call of the day, taken from my home office. His voice blared through the speaker on my mahogany desk. “I think we’re all set.”
“Glad the accommodations were to their liking.”
I stood from my chair, eager to end this. Tomorrow was going to be a long day with the Samurai Group, and I wanted to wrap up a few more personal tasks before going to bed. Fifteen years in real estate development taught me the value of good sleep, especially the kind that happened before a major business deal.
“If that’s all, Gordon, I’ll catch you at the office tomorrow,” I said. “Rest up, we’ve got a big day ahead.”
I finally clicked the end button and rolled my shoulders a few times, the weight of the day radiating from my neck into my lower back. I tended to carry a lot of tension there, and the bones in my spine cracked as I moved it back and forth.
Damn, being forty really does suck.
Lucky for me, I’d added a steam shower when I renovated the house. Before heading there, I shot a quick email to Chris Rowan, one of my most trusted employees and a holdover from my dad’s days of running the company. I considered him asort of CFO emeritus, even though he only worked part-time. He still had a significant role as an adviser and overseer of the brain trust that included connections to almost everyone who mattered in South Florida.
Double-check the Samurai financials before tomorrow?I typed.
His reply came almost instantly:Already on it. Projections look solid, and I'll have the audit summary by dawn.
