“Yeah, well, it’s over. He got too close for comfort,” I say, surprised at how indifferent I sound.

“Oh-kay … and? What’s going on, Blaire?”

Surrounded by bamboo walls and the aroma of teriyaki sauce drifting in the air, I look Elly in the eye and reveal how shameless I truly am. “I don’t know if you remember the guy at the restaurant? The one who asked to speak with me privately. Anyway, it doesn’t matter. I met up with him yesterday and … he offered me a shitload of money to sleep with him on a regular basis as long as I don’t expect a marriage proposal from him when everything is said and done. So I said yes.”

Elly almost spits out the hot tea in her mouth. “What did you just say?”

I lift the teacup to my lips and take a small sip of the smooth brew, feeling it burn my throat as it goes down. “Yep, I’m getting paid for as long as we’re together. And get this—his assistant made me fax her a copy of my most up to date blood work and she sent me his, which was totally weird but at least I know he’s clean and saf—”

She shakes her head, waving her hands to stop me from continuing. “Wait … wait … wait … WHAT? You couldn’t possibly have done something like that, Blaire.”

I laugh. My best friend is really naïve when it comes to me sometimes.

“Believe it.” I pause to put my cup down in front of me and make sure it’s perfectly centered. “I went to his house yesterday, though I shouldn’t call it a house because it’s like the biggest place I’ve ever seen. Anyway, we had dinner, and he made his offer while he fingered me on the dining room table. I accepted. Apparently we understand each other very well.”

“Please tell me this is a big joke,” she says, disapproval voiced in every word of hers.

“Nope, it’s as real as it gets.”

She shakes her head a couple times, her chestnut curls bouncing. “I can’t believe you’re doing this.”

“Well, you better come to terms with it, Elly, because I am.”

“But what about Ronan? Because, trust me, you wouldn’t have told me about him if you weren’t serious. I know you, Blaire, even if you keep telling yourself that I don’t.”

“You’re grasping at straws here. Nothing is going to make me change my mind, particularly a broke guy who I dated for a month. Besides, with Lawrence I get to continue living the lifestyle that I’m accustomed to. The lifestyle that I like. And now I get to quit working and just have fun.”

“You’re being serious, aren’t you?”

“Yes, I’m being very serious. He’s waiting for another call from me to tell him that I’m definitely doing it, and then it’ll be a done deal.”

After two years of being best friends, Elly knows that I have a tendency to shut people out, particularly after they say something I don’t like. Yet, she knows that she’s the only person who can get through to me, and her next words prove that she doesn’t mind telling me like it is. “I could be wrong, Blaire, but I think there’s a huge difference between what you usually do … you know, date rich guys who you like … and getting paid to fuck someone. I mean, do you even like the guy?”

“Doesn’t matter. And in my opinion, it’s pretty much the same. I’ve never loved any of those guys and I’m pretty sure none of them ever took me seriously. To them I was just a thing to look at and fuck. And like Walker said, they saw right through to the gold digger. So yes, in my opinion this is better because at least I don’t have to pretend to love him so he’ll take me shopping. Lawrence only wants my body and I only want his wallet. It’s the perfect arrangement.”

“Of course it matters! This will be just a guy paying money to fuck you like a … like a—”

“Whore,” I finish for her. And she’s right. I date. I don’t fuck around, and most importantly, I don’t have time to fuck around, so no one-night stands for me. My body is my only tool, and spreading my legs open is my superpower. So if they want it, they better work for it—pay for it. Because, in the end, I want them to see me as an investment, and if I gave up the goods the moment they took me to a nice restaurant, why would they? The thrill would be gone.

Do I want to be the girl who gets to go on vacations in Rome? Or do I want to be the girl who gets her head pushed down while giving a blowjob to the asshole in the bathroom stall of a fancy club for a free drink?

Please … why bother? Aim high and you’ll reach the stars. Drink champagne and eat caviar.

Elly reaches for my hand and I let her take it. “I’m sorry, B … I-I—”

I cover our linked hands with my free one, suddenly feeling cold. “It’s okay … don’t apologize. I want this. And if you must know … I am attracted to Lawrence. Very much so,” I say, thinking back to yesterday and the way it felt being invaded by his punishing touch.

“But what about love, Blaire? Love is a beautiful thing.”

“It’s only beautiful when you’re on the receiving end, Elly. It’s hell when it’s not reciprocated. Trust me, I know.”

“Yeah, but that’s part of the package. Love wouldn’t be half as sweet if we didn’t know pain, if we didn’t know what it is to live without it. Listen, I know we’re still super young to even think about it, but what about a family or kids someday? I mean we’re not going to be twenty-three forever.”

I shrug. “A girl I met during my first few days in the city used to always say it took the same kind of effort to fall in love with a rich man than with a poor man, so we might as well fall in love with the rich one.”

“What a bitch.”

“Maybe … but at least she’s a smart bitch.”

And it’s true. I’ve always known that if and when I get married, it’ll be to money or someone who’ll advance me in life. I’ve never really bothered with the fairytale dream of marrying my high school sweetheart or the love of my life. My parents apparently married for love and look how they ended up. Look how fucked up their lives turned out to be. No, thank you. I’d rather not be emotionally invested at all but enjoy all the perks of being in a relationship … kind of.

Is Lawrence going to get me there? Probably not, but at least I won’t have to deal with lunatics who think that they own me, or love me, because I make them orgasm. I’m not a fool. I know they don’t love me one bit. They love the idea of me, and that’s what I’m selling.

I won’t be in danger of falling for him like I did with Ronan, but I’m cool with that. I don’t want love … I don’t care if Lawrence loves me or not because I won’t ever let myself fall in love. Love is dangerous. Love has the ability of breaking the unbreakable. Take Walker for an example. I didn’t love him and he still managed to hurt me. And I, for one, won’t ever be made vulnerable again. I won’t. I can’t.

As far as Lawrence goes, I’ve finally found someone who seeks the same kind of relationship I want.

IT’S BEEN TWO DAYS SINCE I last saw Lawrence. Two days since we made our agreement. When I told Elly that his assistant got in touch with me, I wasn’t joking. She made me fax her my blood work, and she emailed me Lawrence’s. She also went over the terms as to how I was going to be paid. Fifty percent would be deposited into my bank account at the beginning of a thirty-day cycle, and the other fifty at the end. That day, after I’d signed the contract and faxed it back to her along with my blood work, I went online to check if the money was there. Lawrence was a man of his word. Five hundred thousand dollars was sitting pretty alongside the rest of my savings.