36. Rosalyn

THIRTY-SIX

ROSALYN

I crawl onto my bed, face-plant onto my pillow, and groan. Loudly.

What is wrong with me?

It's too big.

I can't take it.

I groan again.

And I can't even act outraged over his response being unprofessional.

He may have been my client tonight, but he was my friend first. And somewhere between friendship and client, I managed to shove my hand down his pants and get my fingers on his oversized dick, so professionalism is out the fucking window.

I roll onto my back and stare at the phone screen, wishing I had someone to tell me how to reply.

I decide to go with avoidance.

Me: Nathan, thank you for the $8,000 offer, but I can't allow you to do that.

Nathan: Rosie, it wasn't an offer. It's already complete. And it's for a job very well done .

I roll my lips together.

Nathan: And if you try to reject the payment, I will just submit it again.

I was wondering whether there was a way to return a payment. But I believe Nathan. I think he would just send it again.

I just don't understand why.

Why is he doing this?

Does he know that I'm… struggling?

And it's not like I'm struggling to buy myself groceries. I'm not there. Anymore.

But I need upgrades.

I need a bigger place. Bigger kitchen. More storage.

I need a garage to park in and an elevator instead of just stairs so I can load up for events without having to walk food down two flights of stairs and through the weather to pack my van.

I need enough needs that I wouldn't use this extra money for wants.

But none of that changes the fact that it doesn't feel right.

I sigh.

Me: Why?

Nathan: Because you earned it. I'm not taking it back, Rosie.

Nathan: Moving on to more important things…

Nathan: Will you join me for a drink tomorrow night?

I blink at my phone.

Then I blink again.

Join the famous Nate Waller for a drink? In public?

It begs the same question.

Me: Why?