Total pages in book: 143
Estimated words: 141464 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 707(@200wpm)___ 566(@250wpm)___ 472(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 141464 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 707(@200wpm)___ 566(@250wpm)___ 472(@300wpm)
I should be taking her out somewhere nice. On an actual date. Not a party for…“Stella just passed five hundred thousand monthly subscribers to her site,” I explain.
She twists to face me as I pull out of her driveway, her red lips parted, forming an adorable, shocked O. “Five. Hundred. Thousand?”
“Yup. She’s been close for a while now, so it’s a big deal.”
And since Stella’s still salty that we turned her down for her one-hundred-and-one-men-in-one-day fuckfest project, Z said to host a party in her honor to celebrate this milestone and stroke her ego.
Of course, he had zero intention of attending the party. So, as an officer, now I have to be there.
Rooster promised to bring Shelby and meet us at the party.
“Subscribers? Like, paid subscribers?” Margot asks.
Whatever fragrance she’s wearing fills the cabin. Sweet like expensive candy and flowers but warm like vanilla, and a little woodsy. The urge to pull over and lick her all over keeps me on edge. “Yup.”
“How much does she charge?” Out of the corner of my eye, I catch her press her hand to her lips. “Sorry, that’s rude, isn’t it?”
“Not like you can’t look up the information if you wanted to.” My tone’s flat as I flick the blinker on and take the turn for the ramp to the Thruway. “She has a couple of different tiers. From five-ninety-nine to twenty-five-ninety-nine.”
“Wow.” She fusses with her dress some more. “Boy did I go into the wrong line of work.”
Even though I think—hope—it’s just a throwaway comment, if I turn it over for too long, my head will explode. “Don’t even joke about that.”
“Who says I’m joking?” She laughs softly. “And your club takes a percentage of that for maintaining the website and stuff?”
A large percentage. Between the investment money and my cut of the porn cash, I’ve been the beneficiary of several large bonuses recently. Still haven’t figured out what I want to do with all that cash yet.
“Sorry,” she says again. “That’s club business, isn’t it?”
“Yes, the club takes a percentage.” I squeeze the steering wheel harder than necessary. “And even though it’s club business, I want you to understand, when you catch me on my laptop fiddling with porn sites, I’m not jerking off. It’s work.”
“I guess so,” she mutters, clearly not thrilled but still curious. “And that’s only one of the sites that the club manages? You take a percentage from all of them?”
If only she asked me this much about riding, the laundromat, the racetrack, or almost anything else.
“Yup. Hers is the most…elaborate. And profitable. She produces a lot of different content and engages with her fanbase a lot.” Engage is one way to put it. I can’t believe I’m going to say this to my girlfriend. “As much as I don’t like her personally, she’s a smart woman. Very driven.”
“Guess you’d have to be to have half a million people pay to see you do…” She wiggles her hands in the air jazz style. “Stuff every month.”
She rests her hand on my thigh and gives me a playful squeeze. “Think there’s a niche market for porn starring a cute mortician?”
What she’s suggesting makes my eye twitch.
“I’m sure there’s a market for everything.” I cut a sidelong glance her way. “But that’s absolutely the fuck not happening. Unless you’re asking for a friend.”
“I’m joking. I could never.” Her voice quiets, and she turns her attention to the windshield. “Will there be lots of… muffler bunnies attending this party tonight?”
“Probably.”
“Good thing I brought the knife you gave me.” She pats her side, where I assume the knife’s resting in a pocket. “How will they feel about all this attention being lavished on Stella?”
Not quite the question I expected from Margot. “Most of them won’t go near her. She’s not hooked up with a brother and they know she brings money into the club—which enables them to attend the parties at all—so I think they’re too intimidated to pay much attention to her. She’ll have her own entourage with her tonight anyway.”
“Other porn stars?”
“Most likely.”
Margot hums, letting that settle.
Dying to change the subject, I nudge the volume on the radio up a few clicks, letting the haunting hum of Amy Lee’s hypnotic voice fill the cab. “You excited to finally have a weekend off?”
“Yes!” She lets out a girlish squeal that’s endearing as hell. “I’ll probably have next weekend too.” Her enthusiasm seems to fade. “Winter’s usually the busiest time for us.”
“Bad weather accidents?”
“That, and illness—flu and pneumonia.”
“If that’s slowing down, it’s worth celebrating.”
“Yes, spring brings something else. Prom season. Graduation. Young people getting drunk and thinking they’re invincible, and those are always depressing.”
“Even in such a small town?”
She nods, eyes still on the horizon. “You’d be surprised.”
After that, we move on to happier topics and before I realize it, I’m taking the exit for the road leading to Downstate’s clubhouse.