Page 3 of Behind The Screen

“And nothing, I guess.” I lean forward and drop my head into my hands. “They told me to name my price. It’s thrown me for a loop. How much am I supposed to charge for this?”

“Have you checked on what other people are charging?”

I nod. I have. Extensively.

“I have. They’re making absolute bank on this stuff. But I’m new to this game.” I look up at her. “I don’t think I can charge that much.”

“Kitty cat.” Vanessa rolls her eyes. “Charge what you’re worth. This person told you to name your price? So name it. Worst they can say is no.”

“I was thinking five hundred per thirty minutes of messaging and maybe a grand for a video?”

She grins, and it looks ornery as hell.

“Make. That. Fucking. Money. Bitch.” Each word is emphasized by a clap until the door jingles, alerting us that a customer has walked in. She winks and walks back to clean the tables.

Fine. I’ll set my price. Like Vanessa said, the worst they can do is say no, right?

CHAPTER3

Io

What a sweet thing she is.

“I was thinking $500 for messaging and $1,000 for a video?”

I stare at her message for a few minutes, biting my lower lip to keep from smiling like an idiot. Part of me thinks her naiveté is cute; the other part of me is upset by it. She should be asking for far more than that. God knows other people in her line of work are. And to phrase her pricing in a question…

I’m going to have to teach her a thing or two about running a business. You never state your prices like it’s up for debate, and you always charge an equal amount or more than what your counterparts are charging. Too little and you look desperate. Same amount, you look like you’re playing the same ball game. A little more…and you make them think you must have something the others don’t.

These things can be taught at a later date. For now, I want to reel her in a little further. I want her to get comfortable, let her slip up and give me some hints as to who she is. This way, I can confirm she’s the right person before making the trip and informing my client that I found his daughter.

We send a few messages back and forth, setting up a time and some boundaries. She still doesn’t want to show her face in the videos, and the messages are to have thirty-minute limits before I owe her for another session. This is all fine, and I agree to it quickly. The girl has no idea that this may as well be pennies thrown into a fountain. I would happily pay her ten times what she’s asking for, and I may in future to get what I need.

But for now, I’m happy to play by her rules.

“I plan on going live again tonight,” she tells me. “Same time. We could maybe chat before or after?”

“Or both.” I want every piece of her I can get, and I know she needs the money. Making a grand an hour just for talking to some random person online is a hard thing to say no to.

My heart is racing. This chat shows the little bubbles every time she starts typing, and it happens over and over again. They pop up and then disappear, like she can’t decide if she wants to take me up on it or not. I lean back in my chair and cross one leg over the other. I wear a spot thin on my lip until I taste blood.

I’ve never been affected like this before. I am cool, calm, collected. I take the job, find my target, and deliver the goods. It’s how I’ve managed to make the amount of money I have and build such an interesting group of clients. I’m really fucking good at what I do, and I know how to charge for it. I can find anyone you want, and I’ve proven myself time and time again.

And yet here I am, tied up with nerves over whether or not this one is going to text me back.

“Okay. That works for me.”

Her message finally comes through, and I breathe a sigh of relief. Before I respond, I navigate the website and find her virtual tip jar. It’s where her followers can give her extra money outside of the monthly subscription. I add a grand to it and then quickly open the chat.

“I’ve sent a grand. Thirty minutes before your show and thirty minutes after. I’m good for more if we run over.” And because I can’t help myself, I add, “I expect you here on time. If you are not, there will be consequences, doll face. So make sure you’re a good girl for me, yes?”

URBaby2000 never says much in her videos or her lives, but when she does, it’s daddy this and sir that. My girl has a submissive streak and a need to be praised. The comments flood in about what a good girl she is and how she’s doing such a good job. I watch her read them during her lives as she acts out her little fantasies for us. That shit gets her hot, and I am more than willing to give her what she needs.

The bubbles pop up and disappear.

“Of course.”

I smirk at her bland reply before a call comes in on my other phone. I always have about three at a time. One that I never use for anything other than personal use and the other two for alternating work-related things. This call is coming in on a work phone.

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