LYDIA

"Are you seriously going to do this, Lydia? All fun aside, it's a little drastic. A lot drastic. You don't have to do this. Are you sure?"

I've never seen Payton nervous before and it does make me question just how far I've veered from the lane of sanity. Yet I'm sure. Sure that I'm going to do this. I'm reasonably sure that Vince will follow through and get Rhys here. Half-sure that Rhys will be interested. Semi-sure that Vince won't double-cross me and sell me into an underground sex ring, never to be seen or heard from again.

This is pretty dumb.

But I've got Payton, so it's not as if I'm here alone. And if we both disappear she's left instructions with her cousin about where to look for us. He's in law enforcement, which won't help us at all if we're dead.

Wow. This plan sounded so much better before I thought it through. I have a flutter of panic, and by flutter I mean a punch to the stomach. How exactly did I get here? This happened too fast. Yesterday Payton told me about Rhys and the hookers and this morning I concocted this insane plan and tonight I'm going up for auction.

Yet the thought of leaving, of running out of here, of going home, of opening that dating app Payton helped me set up and replying to any one of the men who've messaged me… it's not what I want. I want Rhys. And I need to know if he wants me too. Even if by the most unorthodox means ever concocted.

"The thing is, Payton, he just does it for me. I think he might be my swan." I fidget with the silk robe covering the lingerie I'm wearing. White. Staci insisted it be white. Once we'd come to terms Vince sent me to Staci for orientation. Orientation—his word, not mine. I wasn't sure if he was mocking me or not, but in any case Staci set me up with everything I needed.

We went to the mall, in case you're wondering. She said we didn't have time to do an online order, so she took me to Victoria's Secret. I told her there was no way I would be parading around in a thong in front of anyone. She'd blinked at me and then laughed, a little incredulously, before picking out a pleated babydoll with spaghetti straps and a lot of cleavage. She let me get matching lace panties that covered my butt though. The top half of my butt anyway. My cheeks are definitely hanging out, but at least it's not a thong.

"What the hell do swans have to do with anything?"

"They mate for life."

"But you haven't mated with him."

"I know," I say, dragging out the word, "but swans don't just randomly pick another swan and go at it, Payton. They choose carefully so they don't accidentally mate for life with just any random idiot swan that crosses their paths. They choose. Carefully."

"Wow."

"I know, right?"

"No, I meant wow, you're a nerd. Did you get a swan badge?"

"There's no swan badge," I retort with a roll of my eyes. "It was the 'animals in nature' badge," I mumble. "The point is I want it to be him. I want Rhys to devirginate me."

"I thought we agreed you weren't going to use that word anymore."

"I know, but it's a real word, Payton. A legitimate Merriam-Webster word, not an Urban Dictionary word."

There's a pause while Payton simply stares at me. "You realize we would not have been friends if we met in high school, right?"

"I wasn't that bad!" I protest. "I was sort of cool in high school."

"I'll have to take your word on that, tiger," Payton replies, but her expression does not indicate that she is taking my word on this. "Listen, we need to have a talk."

"What?" I eye Payton in the mirror. We're in the dressing room at Double Diamonds awaiting my big sale. I've got to say, this place has been nothing like I'd imagined it. The dressing room is really nice, much like Vince's office. It feels more like a spa locker room than a place of disrepute. Lockers, showers, a long mirrored counter for doing hair and makeup. There's a coffee station too, but just regular coffee. They don't have one of those fancy coffee machines like we have at the Windsor. I should tell Vince to add one, I think, then start to smile. As if I work here now and can make suggestions. Ha.

Payton turns me to her and takes my hands in hers, waiting until I've given her my full attention. "You know what a penis looks like, right?"

"Payton! Oh, my word. I'm not totally clueless."

"And you know he'll want to put it inside of you, right?"

"Stop teasing me." I'm sure I'm beet red, a fact confirmed when I turn back to the mirror. "I know what sex is." I examine my reflection.

"Okay, just making sure. I would never send my girl into battle without a roadmap."

"It's game plan," I murmur. "You wouldn't send me into battle without a plan."

"Sure, whatever. I would never send you into battle without knowing what a penis looks like, is the point. Speaking of, do you have any questions?"

Err, no? "I don't think so?" Shoot, should I? Have questions? What questions would I have? I understand what sex is. I'm not uninformed, just inexperienced. I examine my nails, painted pale pink during my manicure this afternoon. Toes to match. I've been buffed and polished, hair blown out and makeup expertly applied. I'm wearing more makeup than I'd normally wear but I like it. I look like a more dramatic version of me. Add in the virginal lingerie and I'm feeling a bit like a bride on her wedding day.

But it's not my wedding day.

Definitely not.

"No, I don't have any questions, but maybe I'll text you later? If something comes up?"

"Okay. Feel free to ask me anything, or text me naked pictures of Rhys. Either-or. Just check in when you can."

"Will do. Check in, I mean. I'm not texting you naked pictures of Rhys."

"Okay, wow. I'm really starting to feel like I do all the giving in this friendship, but tonight is your big night, so we can work on our friendship goals later."

"Deal."

"In case we don't get to talk later"—Payton pulls me into a hug, careful not to mess up my hair or makeup—"I just want you to know I'm proud of you, Lydia. As weird as it is to be proud of you for this, I am."

"Don't be proud yet. We don't even know if this worked. This might end with Vince selling me to a seedy businessman from Iowa. We don't really know yet, do we?"

A cough alerts me to the fact that we're not alone. I turn at the sound to find Vince has strolled in, hands in pockets and what I think is an amused expression on his face. Which is sorta impressive because from what I've learned about Vince he's not one to give any of his feelings away.

"Iowa's a very nice place. It's the ones from Maryland you want to watch out for."

Oh, crap. He heard that.

"Haha, you kidder, you." I'm trying for deflection because I'm not entirely sure how to handle Vince.

"I'm serious," he responds, his eyes flicking to Payton. "As a skydiver."

There's a pause as Payton eyes him, her brow furrowed while she considers him. Then she smiles. "Yeah, that was a good one. Skydiving safety is no joke."

Vince inclines his head before turning back to me.

"It worked," he says. "He's here."

It worked. It worked? It worked! I'm ready to bounce up and down on my stripper heels but… maybe he's not here for me? Maybe he's here for a random lap dance or some hot wings? They do have ten different flavors of wing sauce and I'm just one flavor.

"He's made a preemptive offer."

A preemptive offer? So… he offered? I'm leaving here with him? This worked? It really worked?

"The offer is for me?" I have to confirm. I need the words. I need the confirmation before I get too excited. I need one hundred percent assurance that the offer isn't for a combo meal before I make a fool out of myself.

"Yes, you."

I turn wide eyes to Payton and then squeal, bouncing on my toes. But carefully, because I'm more of a kitten heel than a stiletto heel kind of girl and it wouldn't do to break my ankle right now and end up in the emergency room instead of in bed. Having sex. With Rhys!

"You said yes, right? To whatever he offered? I told you the opening bid you suggested was stupid high." When Vince and I talked numbers this morning I suggested ten thousand and he laughed in my face. Then he'd suggested a hundred, which I thought was a little low until he clarified he meant a hundred thousand dollars, and then I giggled so hard I had to bend forward with a hand clamped over my mouth to contain myself.

It's not like I'm skilled, you know? Plus I did some research on the internet when I concocted this plan and the average cost for sex in Nevada is somewhere between a few hundred and a few thousand dollars. I know virgins are a silly novelty, but a hundred grand? Please.

"Did he offer ten thousand like I suggested?" I ask, refraining from rolling my eyes in Vince's face for being right. Just barely. If he didn't scare me a little I'd absolutely roll my eyes.

"He offered two and asked me to cancel the auction."

"Thousand, right? Two thousand dollars?" It's a little disappointing because I was really hoping for ten thousand, but the money was never the point. "So it's done, right? I don't have to go out there now?" I'm flooded in relief at the idea that I might get to skip the humiliation of parading around in this nightie. My fingers are already itching to slip back into the outfit I arrived in and a pair of shoes that don't require ballerina-level balancing abilities.

"Two hundred thousand, Lydia. And I told him another insulting offer like that was going to get him escorted out of my club."

I hear Vince, but it's taking me a moment to piece together what he's saying, my heart thumping in overtime as I glance nervously over at Payton. How much did he just say? And why did he refuse? What have I gotten myself into?

"Um, Vince." I swallow hard before continuing. "Why did you turn him down? We had a plan."

"Because I've got my own plan, Lydia, and two hundred doesn't cut it for me. Not even close."

Oh, God. I've made a deal with a pimp and it's working out exactly like one would imagine a deal with a pimp works out.