Total pages in book: 58
Estimated words: 56107 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 281(@200wpm)___ 224(@250wpm)___ 187(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 56107 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 281(@200wpm)___ 224(@250wpm)___ 187(@300wpm)
I pull on the front door, which is a solid thing made of metal. It’s unlocked. My already accelerated heartbeat goes into overdrive.
I hold the door for a long moment, hesitating. No, this is wrong. I should just go home and wait to hear from Skippy.
I let go and start walking back to my car.
“Hello?” A thin young blonde pokes her head outside.
I stop and look at her. Who is she?
“You’re already late.” She waves me inside. “Hurry up.”
I point to myself. “Me?”
“No. The woman behind you. Come on. The show’s already started.”
I don’t know what’s happening, but she’s very firm in her tone. Maybe Logan knows I’m still out here and asked her to invite me in. A sort of olive branch?
“Hurry up,” she says. “You’re going to ruin everything, and in case you haven’t noticed, this is a big deal. There’s a lot riding on this for him.”
I don’t move.
“Are you in or out?” she says.
“Errrr. In?”
“Then come on.”
I enter behind her into what appears to be a respectable lobby—coffee pods, coffee table with culinary magazines, and nice artwork on the walls.
“I’m Sydney, by the way. Mr. Strike’s assistant.”
“Nice to meet you?”
“Be right back. I’ll let him know you’re here.” She disappears behind a door, only to reemerge a moment later. “Don’t be shy, okay? God knows he’s not. Now, I already have your waivers and paperwork, so you’re all good to go.”
“Good to go?” I ask.
“Yep. You can go right through that door. You’ll find everything you need. Just wait for his cue.”
“Cue?”
“He’ll introduce you,” she says, like I’m dense.
“Ah. Okay.” I don’t know what I’m doing, but I’m fairly sure I’ve been mistaken for someone else.
The question is: Do I run for the car, or do I stay?
She made it sound like this situation is life or death for his business, and the last thing I want is to cause him more financial damage. I know what’s on the line.
“Hurry up. You only have a few seconds.” Sydney pushes me through the doorway. “Oh, and congratulations on being the first.” She closes the door behind me, leaving me in a dark side room. Ahead, I see a divider and lights pouring over the top.
I walk forward, hearing Logan’s deep, silky voice: “I just want to assure my fans that I am not Carter Strike, I do not secretly film women, nor do I believe in hiding who I am. Mr. Sticky Nuts is completely committed to all of your testicular fantasies. And with that, today’s livestream will include the first lucky winner of the Time with My Nuts Giveaway.”
My eyes go wide, and that’s when I notice a jar of sliced sweet dill pickles sitting on a little table in front of me.
“Debbie,” he calls out, “are you ready to top my nuts with your favorite condiment?”
Oh God. Oh God. My feet won’t move for obvious reasons. (A) Debbie clearly chickened out. (B) I know this event is important to him (maybe a last-ditch effort to avoid losing more subscribers). And (C) the most obvious of all: He hates me. Hard. Like, he wishes me dead.
“Debbie, don’t be shy, woman. My nuts don’t bite.”
I wince. I know what’s waiting for me on the other side of that divider.
I take three big breaths and step around it.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” he snarls the moment streaming ends.
“I’m sorry, okay?” I yell back, trying to pull my eyes away from his large, very naked penis. “But Sydney said there was a lot riding on this show today.”
He slips on a white robe, rage pouring from his eyes. “So you lied about who you were?”
“No. She assumed who I was, and I didn’t correct her.”
“What the hell are you even still doing here?” he yells again.
“I-I was curious, okay? I just wanted to see how I’d feel.”
“Feel about what? Crashing my studio while my dick is hanging out?”
“Yes?” I wince, unable to look him in the face. I can’t unsee or undo what just happened. Me, layering on little slices of green pickles over his genitals while he did his very best to look like he enjoyed it.
For the record, he’s a great actor. I was actually getting into it for a moment. Then my part was over, and he moved on to blue frosting. And wow, did he slather it on, too. Made me think of a Smurf. But much, much bigger and X-rated.
“You need to go,” he growls.
“I’m sorry, Logan. I really am.”
“You’ve been saying that a lot lately.”
“Logan? Can I go now?” Sydney’s blonde head pops out from behind the divider.
“Yeah.” He whooshes out a breath.
“Hey,” she says, “your numbers are looking strong.”
He nods. “Good.”
I haven’t had time to tell Sofie about what’s happened, so this is great news. It means things will only get better. I hope.