10. Georgia
Chapter 10
Georgia
I was considering it. I was actually considering it.
I flipped the card in my hand over and over. I had peeked over at "Wolfe's" page earlier to reveal nothing but some solo videos, just like he said.
I chewed my nails anxiously; what would it mean if I did this? Besides money? I would have a mask on, and so far, he had done a good job of keeping his identity a secret. I set the card down and stared at it for a moment more before taking my phone and texting the number of Sebastian's reference. I sent it quickly, before I could talk myself out of it. It's not like I was committing to anything by texting this person; I'm just doing my research. And research is something I'm very good at.
"Hi, I got this number as a reference for Wolfe?"
I received a text back almost immediately.
"Oh, hi! I'm Natalie. Seb told me about you. I'd love to chat. Want to meet in person? I always feel like that's better for these types of conversations. "
I stared at the phone in disbelief. On one hand, the woman on the other end was right. Seeing her face-to-face could add some legitimacy to Wol—Sebastian's business ethics. But this was going fast, and I honestly hadn't even expected a response.
Once again, not a commitment. Just coffee. But not at The Grind, which was too close to home.
"Sure, there's a shop on 9th? I'm free today until eight or tomorrow?"
The little blinking dots showed the woman, Natalie, was typing and my stomach rolled. Maybe I shouldn't have said tonight. That was awfully short notice and probably rude?—
"Oh, great! I love that spot; I have time this evening. About two hours? Coffee’s on me."
I like-reacted to the message and stared at my phone in disbelief. I was actually doing this. On my way to talking myself out of the meeting already, I spied the pamphlets I had set down last night.
Straightening, I looked at myself in the mirror; I looked presentable enough…and two hours would give me time to do what I do best.
Research.
And research I did. I spent the next forty-five minutes reading forums, comparing incomes from other online sex workers and cam stars doing similar work. I compiled a few videos to watch later that night about the ins and outs of the industry and how to keep yourself safe.
Suppose I was going to do this. I was going to do this right. Tossing on my beanie, I walked out to the cab that waited for me, feeling more in control than I had only a few hours prior. I armed myself with my notes app and desire for knowledge. And money .
The coffee shop I had picked was a modern cafe with large ceilings, a huge lobby, and expensive lattes. This late in the evening, the coffee shop switched to a low-key bar that offered mood lighting with a backdrop of tropical plants. It was perfect. Everyone was caught up in their work or their date to notice me talking to anyone about…online sex work. And that's exactly the anonymity I needed. It didn't matter that the cab ride was two hours of my coffee shop pay; it was worth it to be outside of my normal bubble.
"I'm in a green hoodie and black beanie," I texted, trying to ignore the shaking in my fingers while I sipped on my free water, ignoring the eye roll of the guy with the extensively curled mustache behind the counter.
"Walking in! White top!" came the reply, and I looked up, hoping to God I wasn't making a huge mistake, to see a beautiful blond wearing an outfit I could only describe as chic. Natalie waved at me as soon I caught her eye, and a bit of my nervousness waned, but the self-deprecation began. Here I was, in a hoodie and beanie at 7 p.m. on a random Thursday, probably still smelling like coffee beans, and Natalie looked like she had stepped out of an after-ad on one of those makeover videos.
I stood awkwardly as she put her arms out and drew me into a hug. Fuck, she smelled like coconuts.
"It's so great to meet you! I'm sure you have so many questions!" Despite the fact that I was wildly jealous, I instantly loved this woman. Sometimes, as a girl, you just can feel other women out. Natalie? She was a girl’s girl. I hadn’t even opened my mouth yet before she waved a manicured hand. "Oh, I am so rude. Tell me about yourself!"
I was at a loss for a moment before I smiled and wrapped my hands around my water cup. "I work at a bookshop in the city, I live with my cat and I know Quinn from high school, technically. He's my next-door neighbor now. That's how I got your number."
Natalie nodded, smiling. "Fantastic! I knew he was looking for someone; it's nice that you have history, too. So important."
I just nodded, not really knowing what to say to that.
"I met Seb towards the end of college—that’s when he started his business. College, you know?" Her laugh was infectious, and I smiled despite myself. "But I just got a job offer in Europe, so it's time for me to hang up my hat, so to speak. I really only did it to pay off my student loans."
I opened my mouth, quickly shutting it as the waiter took our orders. I looked around as if anyone would even be interested in our conversation before I continued.
"Can I ask…did you ever get found out? Like your identity, I mean?" I asked, lowering my voice, releasing the most pressing matter on my mind at the moment.
Natalie's face got serious, and she leaned forward. "Absolutely not. We are very cautious. It is 2024, and this kind of work is more widely accepted, but—while I don't feel ashamed at all about it—I did appreciate the anonymity."
I took a deep breath, her seriousness calming my nerves on the subject. "And can I ask what Quinn was like?…Working together, I mean?"
Another pause as I leaned back, our drinks set down in front of us while Natalie smiled politely at the bartender.
Natalie took a sip of an espresso martini before answering, "Oh, he's a doll. Very big on communication. He has a sister and had a very close relationship with his mom, and she must have taught him well because he's very big on privacy and consent. This is also a business to him; when he started, it was just thirst traps on video sites that took a turn after his grandfather—well that's up to him to tell you, but I had a great working relationship and friendship with him."
Slowly, my nerves were calming, the anxious voice in my head quieting to a dull roar instead of a violent scream.
"How…I don't know how to ask this," I admitted, resuming picking at my nail again. Natalie smiled and raised an eyebrow, finishing for me. "How much did I make?"
Sighing deeply, I nodded, grateful for her taking the reins on this sensitive topic. She smiled and dug in her clutch, pulling out a thin, black notepad and pushing it over to me. Curious, I opened the notebook to find her handwritten income from the past three years.
As I looked up in shock, she just smiled at me from the rim of her glass. "This is gross income?" I asked.
She shook her head. "Take home. I have a great accountant. I can get you her info if you decide to dip your toe in."
I sat packed in disbelief, running the numbers in my head. Even just half of what she made in a year would set my grandmother and me up for life. Well, I could afford to get my car fixed, that was for sure.
"It helps that Wolfe has a set-up community; he splits 50%, which is very generous in this line of work. Very transparent about the income that any collaborative videos receive. And live streams? Those are fantastic money makers, definitely, more work though if you're into that."
I nodded, scratching the plastic cup full of free water when she looked at me seriously. "If you messaged me, you're definitely more than just tossing it around. Just know this can be as casual as you like, but it's always about consent and clear communication with your partner. And if you ever need anything or have questions, I'm just a call or text message away. Or Europe in two weeks, but still a text message."
Smiling, we said our goodbyes, and I was back in that expensive cab ride home, thinking for the first time that maybe…just maybe, I would do something a bit unexpected. It is something that perhaps a book character would do right before the plot got really, really good.
It wasn't necessarily the coffee shop meeting with Natalie that made up my mind, but my next night shift at The Grind. When I ran up the sidewalk, a stitch in my side as I fumbled with the store keys with frozen fingers, I realized quickly that the door was already unlocked.
Walking inside, I immediately saw Hank, complete with his newsboy hat, even in the dead of winter, bringing in boxes from the back.
"Hey, Hank!" I panted, my lungs burning from jogging the last block there after I had realized I was nearly late. Checking my phone, I found I was literally just on time. "Thanks for moving those boxes out for me!"
Hank waved me off as I clocked in, taking off his hat to scratch the top of his bald head, where his beard connected to nothing.
"Listen, Georgia, I really appreciate you coming in, especially on the overnights," he began, and my stomach sank.
"Yeah, absolutely, I appreciate the work," I said, trying not to sound as concerned as I felt when he wouldn't look me in the eye.
"With the fall season coming in it’s always great, but with rent the way it is and having hired that kid just a few weeks back, my payroll is tight right now. The overhead for the shop is out of hand, and I'm having to cut corners where I can." I was silent as he replaced his hat on his head. "I will definitely have work for you in December, but right now, after tonight, it'll just be one shift a night. I know we talked about ten-to-twelve hours, but it's looking more like five."
Five hours. At twelve dollars an hour. Fuck.
But I found myself nodding despite the roaring in my ears as I swallowed back tears. "Yeah, totally, I understand. I can make things stretch until then."
Hank looked ridiculously uncomfortable as he clapped his hands. "Free coffee once a day still! Can't beat that!" He turned his back. "When you're finished, don't forget to lock up!"
I stood in silence as the backdoor shut and locked from the outside. "Yeah, free coffee. Can't beat that," I whispered to the now-empty coffee shop.
Working numbly, I restocked the shelves with fresh merchandise, whole coffee beans, and stickers. I didn't feel bad taking the expired food this time or leaving that extra fifteen minutes late as I swept the already-clean floors.
I walked home, chewing on a slightly stale bagel as I contemplated my next move. When I left college, I had expected to enter publishing, write a New York Times Bestseller, and retire on the coast with a few cats and maybe a partner that I liked more than my own company. But when I got that call from my grandmother at 2 a.m. on a Sunday that she was in the hospital after falling and had been unable to call for help…I knew my priorities had changed, and I didn't regret my decision one bit. It was the excuse I had been looking for to leave Dylan and come home. Sort everything out. The deep guilt that had settled in my thirteen-year-old soul when my mother's cancer finally won had never fully gone away. I couldn't do enough to save my mother or give her a better ending. But I could give that to my grandmother.
I arrived at the apartment complex in a daze, barely feeling my chapped cheeks and frozen ears. What happened next was on autopilot, as if my mind was already made up and my body was just along for the ride as I knocked on Unit 2's door.
I stood there with my heart hammering in my chest for what felt like forever until the brass door knob turned and Sebastian's large body suddenly filled the space.
"I talked to Natalie."
A smile tugged at the corner of his mouth, and he moved to open the door wider. "C'mon in, Clark."