Ol' Hawky is smiling warmly as he steps out the back of his stretch Escalade limo and onto the mansion's winding driveway. I think that’s a good sign.

He's wearing a pair of boot-cut acid wash jeans that would've been right at home at a mid-level department store in 1990, along with a denim jacket that has the exact same wash.

What the actual fuck?

Oh jeez, he’s leaning back into his limo to tell the driver something. I want to get this over with as fast as possible, even if it could be the most important meeting of my life. I have a plan.

He slams the limo door and just stands there, smiling as the Escalade drives off.

“Hello!”

I try to get his attention, so he doesn’t just stand like a happy little plant in the fucking driveway all day. Hawk’s grin stays painted on his mug as he notices me and walks over. I extend a hand, and he takes it into a firm grip as soon as I’m within his reach. He’s still smiling, but his eyes are blank.

“Do you remember me?”

He obviously doesn’t. Jesus Christ, is he even smart enough to run this site? I guess it doesn’t matter if he takes a hands-off approach as long as he has the money to run it. Plus, his background is more fitting than Darcy’s.

“How could I forget?”

He’s so full of shit. That’s fine, at least he’s being polite this time.

“I’m Lizzie. Ready to go inside?”

“I was born ready.”

Darcy is Mr. Big when he’s watching a cam girl show, but he’s Mr. Darcy when you meet him in person. Hawk Wickham is just Hawk no matter what. He can’t be anyone else. Odd for a performer, but it’s not like he’s known for his acting talent.

“I take it you remember this area, Mr. Wickham.”

He’s walking behind me and scanning everything with eager wonder as we enter the mansion.

“Is Lydia around today?”

“Lydia? I think she may be off today.”

I feel like I’m talking to a horny, socially awkward patron of a strip club. I may be wasting my time on this idea.

“You ladies sure have a nice place. One of the nicest I’ve seen. You deserve it for all the amazing work you do.”

Okay, not so bad after all. Hawk is finally talking business. Thank fuck. Maybe he’s not as dumb as he looks. Maybe.

“It doesn’t hurt, Mr. Wickham, but we are professionals here. The best in the industry is what you’re getting with the Bennet Babes.”

“You don’t have to tell me twice. I’ve had more fun jacking myself raw to some of those old show videos than I ever had getting sucked and fucked by some of the porn industry's foremost experts on fuckin’ and suckin’. Of course, I was being paid for that, but I don’t regret my big-ass credit card bill one bit. Goddamn, I feel like a teenage boy again. You should see all those empty tissue boxes...”

“I'm glad you're enjoying our wares,” I say dryly. It’s totally lost on him. “You can see the very unique value of our company. I think it would be a bargain at any price, but I’m sure you can come up with a good deal.”

I want so badly to get him on the hook for buying. He seems to understand what we’ve got through his —forgive the expression —first-hand experience. His enthusiasm should be wonderful for the site. Also, I’d have Darcy to myself, without those stupid ethics getting in the way.

“I never got to see those rooms. Are they really here? I feel like a star-struck fan!”

The Hawk’s tone has sure changed. Is he horny, in love, or both? I fucking hope he’s not in love with me, though.

“Oh, the rooms are here, just a short walk away. Are you sure you’re ready, though? I wouldn’t want you to faint with excitement.”

“I think I can control myself, girlie. But keep those smellin’ salts on hand just in case.”

I barely keep my eyes from rolling right out of my head. “We’ve got a first aid kit in every room. Follow me, Mr. Hawk.”

That’s the first time I’ve called him that. I have to be familiar, but not too much. I just need him on the hook for this purchase so my life can continue being wonderful. Hopefully even better now that I’ve met Darcy.

He walks well behind me on the way to Charlie’s room. I glance around every few seconds to see him looking wide-eyed at everything except me. Phew. It’s not about me, that’s a start.

I’m already in the middle of Charlie’s room by the time I hear him walk through the door behind me. I do a bit of sashay to turn and face him, trying to keep the mood playful and exciting.

But now his smile is gone. This is one of the rooms, dude. What the fuck’s wrong with you? Sigh. Time to ramp up the charm.

“What’s the matter, Hawky? Not what you expected?”

“It’s…not. Whose room is this?”

“Oh, come on. This is Charlie’s room. You don’t recognize it?”

“Charlie. I didn’t see that part of the site. I guess it’s good to diversify.”

This takes me a second.

“Oh, no. Charlie’s one of our best cam women. You’d know her if you saw her.”

“What about Lydia? Where’s her room?”

Ah, and there it is.

“That’s next.”

He perks up in a new way. Before, he was like an excited child. Now, I can see the leering intensity in his eyes. Pretty sure I know where Hawk has been spending all his time on the site.

Hey, everyone has a favorite. It's like visiting the set of your favorite TV show. For Hawk, Lydia’s room is like Carrie Bradshaw’s apartment, Central Perk from Friends and the Price is Right Plinko wheel all rolled into one. Also, who better to run the site than a fan who also understands the industry?

Again, he follows me silently through the hall, trailing a few feet behind. This time, I swear I hear cheap denim being stretched, erected into a makeshift tent. Ugh. The Hawkster sure has a one-track mind.

The second I open the door to Lydia’s space, he bolts in, then slides to a stop in the middle of the room. He just stands there, hands on his hips. Then he slowly rotates back towards me. The big smile is back.

“Wow. I can’t believe I’m here!”

Aw, he is excited. How cute. Nothing wrong with that, I guess. To each, his own, right? And he’s too caught up in his bubble of happiness to notice me, which is probably a good thing, too.

“This is the magic space. Just unique on its own, really. No other place like it.”

He just continues to take it all in. He’s taking a careful note of minor details of the room, staring at the walls, then the ceiling for some reason. I guess you can’t see the ceiling on camera.

“Does she have a show today? Usually I get an email alert, but I haven’t checked in a while.”

Fuck, now he’s getting a boner. This is a total fucking waste of time. Hopefully, I can get him out of here without getting the police involved. Or Catherine, if he’s really being a nuisance.

“Not for a couple of days. I think she might be out of town. Do you want to see some other rooms?”

I watch him dig what looks like an old flip phone out of his pocket. Um, okay then. I guess he has better things to spend his oodles of cash on than smartphones? He starts pointing it around the room. I hear camera snap sounds, one after another.

“Wait a damn minute, baby. I just got here! I gotta get a few snaps, some memories.”

If this is for his own personal spank bank, dude is even more obsessed with Lydia than I realized.

“If you own the site, you can take photos of all the rooms. With a real camera, if you’d like. We have those.”

He closes his dinosaur phone and looks at me for the first time since the tour started. Okay, here we go.

“What d’ya want, for me to get an iPhone? Or one of those robot phones or whatever the fuck they’re called?”

“An Android.”

He looks genuinely hurt.

“Hey, I knew that. I just like to have my own style. We can’t all be Will Darcy.”

Huh. That’s the fucking truth.

“Funny you should mention that. Mr. Darcy is our top bidder right now.”

His jaw tightens and he’ squeezes his poor flip phone hard. I think it might break. His jeans crotch is now completely flat.

“He doesn’t hang out around here, does he?”

“Oh, Mr. Darcy is here all the time,” I exaggerate. He’s very popular with all of us.”

Hawk drops his phone on the carpet. He waits a moment before picking it up and pocketing it with resignation.

“Everyone likes him here?”

“Oh, absolutely. Everyone everywhere loves him. He’s so successful.”

Hawk’s hangdog expression dissipates.

“That’s what he thinks. The days of me just letting Will Darcy win are over!”

I’ll give this to him: the man sure knows how to storm out of a room. He doesn’t need me to show him out, he’s a man on a mission.

I feel like giving myself a high-five. The future of Bennet Babes and my future with Darcy are taken care of. I should teach a class on this shit.

Fuck, now I hear boots clunking slowly back towards Lydia's room. What is it now? I realize I'm smiling a bit as I turn around to see what the hell he wants. Hawk is standing outside the door, trying to hand me his open phone.

"Before I go, could you type in Lydia's number?"