Page 50 of Offensive Plays

"Lib-by," he croons.

"Ronnie," I say with little emotion.

"I got word back from the shoot."

"So then you know it was a disaster," I say.

He pauses, "Nevermind high fashion spreads. We have a proposal from a company that is looking for exactly what you have to offer."

"That's what you said about this last one, Ronnie,” I remind him.

"Well, that was before I realized just how great you would do in a different style of publication."

"Okay, so if it's not high fashion," because I'm too thick and too short apparently, "then what is it?"

"Lingerie ads."

I nearly cough on the tea I'm sipping.

"Lingerie, Ronnie?"

"Yes, Libby, my darling, you would be absolutely spectacular for this. Trust me."

I sigh. I can't believe it's come to this. Fashion has always been my dream. Ever since I saw the woman who gave me up so easily on the cover of Italian Vogue. Her fierce hazel eyes looking back at me for the first time. I promised myself I'd make her take notice. Force her to see me the same way I was able to see her. No context, and on the cover of a famous magazine.

"Libby, are you there? What do you say?" Ronnie says, waiting patiently.

"Is taking this gig going to open up more opportunities?"

"Without a doubt, my dear."

"Fine," I say. "I'll take it."

Hanging up with him I feel a little sleazy for saying yes to a lingerie gig. But what else am I supposed to do? The clothing lines won't hire me. And it’s not like I’d be posing totally nude. I vowed that one time in Paris would be my last.

Too old. Too thick. Too short. The thoughts whirl in my head.

My phone dings next to me and I look at it to see strangerDanger23 has sent me a message.

I sit up straight and open the app.

strangerDanger23: hello, butterfly.

I think about the man on the other side of this screen. His piercing gaze. His face buried between my legs. My body humming from the pleasure he drew out of me.

I shouldn't be playing with fire. I shouldn't want this. Because despite Michael being on this app... I know him. I know his family. And I know that if it ever got back to them that I had corrupted their precious son, I'd have hell to pay.

But what if nobody had to find out?

Shut up, vagina. I need my brain in charge right now. But also...what if nobody had to find out? What if Michael and I just give into this thing we both so badly desire. And we just get it out of systems.

Then we can finally move on. He could finally focus on finding someone who can fit in with the Fergusons. And I....

I don't know what I'd do. Modeling isn't exactly the fulfilling career I was hoping it would be.

My fingers are hesitating over the keyboard. And I'm trying to decide exactly how I should word this message to him, when a text from Rina Lopez comes in.

Rina