Page 12 of Risk

Part of me hopes seeing Leah in action, just this once, will scratch the itch I’ve developed today.

The other part of me worries this is only the beginning of a new obsession.

Chapter 5

Leah

Tossing my purse on the couch, I kick off my heels and strip out of my dress as I stumble into the bathroom. I’m exhausted. Geez, even taking a bath feels like more effort than I want to give tonight. But I know how good it’ll feel to soak my bones, so I turn the faucet on anyway, add a bath bomb, and light a couple candles.

You know what would make this better? A good audiobook. A smutty, funny, no major drama story to lighten me up. Except I’m fresh out of those and don’t feel like online shopping for a new one.

I’m a mess.

The entire way home, I couldn’t get Mason out of my head. I can’t believe he looked up what the cleaning service pays. But the madder I try to get at his prying questions, the less it seems to matter. I think it’s because he wasn’t shaming me or talking down about my career choice. Instead, he was trying to figure out how I got money for a purse and practically begging for a date.

That’s weird. Right?

After soaking in the tub for a few minutes, my self-control breaks, and I grab my phone. “Okay, Mason Finch. Let’s learn about you and what you make per hour, fucker.”

Google pulls up articles and images and I sit up so fast water sloshes out of the tub. Holy shitballs. Photo after photo after hot, professional photo flood my screen. The more I scroll, the hotter they get.

“Mason Finch, founder of BanditFX, makes new waves in Big Tech.” Words blur because I’m scanning the article too fast. “Mason Finch breaks barriers with his innovative security…” Holy crap. “BanditFX lures best in the tech world to Finch’s door with unmatched salaries…”

My heart pounds in my chest as more photos with Mason smiling at the camera pop up. My god, does he not have a bad angle? Some pics are of him with a group of stuffy looking older people. Another is of him handing an award to someone. Or maybe he’s getting the award, I can’t tell. And there’s another where he’s shaking hands with—

“Is that Henry Cavill?” Holy crap, it totally is.

A few more swipes and I’m down a Mason Finch rabbit hole where I learn that he’s not only a die-hard Red Sox fan, but that his great-grandfather on his mother’s side was an oil tycoon in Texas. His father’s family is in law. His mother’s name is Scarlet. His dad’s name is Thomas. It looks like Mason also has a brother, Jackson, and a sister named Grace.

Before I can deep dive and go into full stalker mode, a notification pops up on my screen from the site my sexy persona makes bank on.

A bunny’s work is never done, am I right?

Clicking on it, the app opens and brings me directly to the chat room I have set up for my online fun times. Hey! I got two new top tier patrons today. Sweet! For as tired as I was ten minutes ago, I’m now energized—thanks to snooping on Mason.

I don’t know what that says about me.

Going into the chat group, I post a few winky faces and type, How about a quick live in thirty?

I set my phone down and lean back, listening to the dings go off as some of my patrons get online and respond. They’re used to my sporadic lives, so this is nothing new to them. After I’ve finished my soak, I dry off and get to work.

Instead of going heavy with makeup tonight, I put on a black, half-face mask that’s got long, straight bunny ears attached to it. The bottom of the mask reaches the tip of my nose and is made of a soft, leather-like material. It covers enough of my face that I don’t have to worry about being identified, and all I really need to complete the look is lipstick.

Snagging a black silk robe from my closet, I tie it in a way that lets some of my cleavage show enough to make them thirsty for more. Then I sit in my chair with ring lights aimed at me.

Shit, I forgot lipstick! Running a deep red color over my lips quickly, I open my laptop and log in.

“Hi,” I say in a flirty, cute voice. “What is everyone up to tonight?”

Seven patrons are logged in already, which is pretty decent for a last-minute thing like this. Oop, another one just joined. Avatars pop up as they fill my chat with compliments and flirtations. Two have already sent me kisses, which are ten bucks a piece.

Ty407: “No plans tonight, Daisy?”

“Nope,” I lean back and squirm in my chair. “I’m enjoying a quiet night all by myself.” I twirl my hair around a finger and make a pouty face.

Mr. C: Awww. I’d keep you company.

“I’ve been so busy today. It’s nice to just…” Leaning back, my loose robe shows off a little more skin around my collarbone. “Relax, you know?”