ever going to get his respect back?
"Cancel it."
"I can't."
"Of course you can. Cancel it."
"Ace! I need the money. It's an honest way to make what I need."
He snorted. "Honest, maybe. Utterly slutty, too. Is that what you're tryin' to become? Is that how you think of yourself?"
"I'm not a slut. You know that."
"I'm beginnin' to wonder if I know you at all."
Her heart was breaking. Losing his respect was a hundred times worse than she ever could have imagined. Even if their parting was inevitable, she needed to know he thought well of her--could remember her as someone special in a good way. "Please don't hate me, Ace."
"I'm goin' to pay for the nursin' aides for your mother until you get your finances straightened out. You will not be resortin' to this sleazy behavior again, young lady."
She didn't want to take his money, but it would be a huge relief not to have to worry so much about her mother, and to be able to pursue her modeling career within the bounds of decency. The whole idea of being in a "stroke magazine" horrified her, and she'd nearly fallen into the pit. "Okay. I'll cancel it."
He gestured toward her purse. "Do it now. I want to hear it myself."
"You don't trust me?"
"Should I, after you did such a damn crazy thing?"
He might never trust her again, and that brought tears to Gabby's eyes. Remorse dripped down her cheeks and fell on her hands as she dug her phone out of her purse.
It took a few minutes to get to the right person, but finally she got her agent on the line. "Becky, it's Gabby Appleby."
"Hi, Gabby. How ya doin'?" The woman's Brooklyn accent was pronounced.
"I'm okay. Listen, something has come up and I can't get to the HunkaChunka rehearsal this afternoon."
"You can't? That might nix the deal. You sure you can't make it?"
"I am having..." She glanced at Ace. "Second thoughts."
"Look, Gabby. The money is good. These people are professionals. No one is going to make you feel like a tart."
"I already feel like a tart, Becky. Cancel for me, please."
There was a long-suffering sigh. "Alright. I might be able to come up with something for you next week. Something with your clothes on. But the money won't be as good."
"That's okay. If it's legit, I'll take it."
"I'll call you."
"Thanks."
She pressed disconnect and put the phone away. Her sense of self got immeasurably lighter. The tears had dried on her face.
"Good girl," Ace told her. "Take off your clothes and prepare for a spankin' like the one you got when I first met you."
"Oh no, Ace. Please. I made a mistake. It was an honest mistake."
He snorted. "So honest that you kept it from me like a dirty secret."
There was no denying that. "I'm ashamed." Tears formed again, and her breath hitched as a sob escaped. "Please don't hate me, Ace."
He tilted her chin up. "Look at me." She did. "I don't hate you, Gabby. But I am gonna teach you a lesson. No matter how much you need money, there's a better answer than abasin' yourself. If you'd thought that through, you'd have realized that takin' help from a friend is not the same thin'. You don't need to be embarrassed about needin' money, Gabby. You need to be embarrassed about how you decided to go about getting' it."
"I guess I deserve it, but it's our last day together." Another sob escaped her. "I don't want it to go badly. I guess it's too late for that." She broke down in tears, the tension of the day overwhelming her. She felt dirty and embarrassed and a little panicked about her relationship with Ace. She had to take the money from him, and that would mean an ongoing relationship of debtor and creditor. It wasn't what she'd have liked, but any tie was better than none.
He smelled so good, and it was so comforting to have his arms around her as he pulled her in close. He whispered nonsense into her ear and kissed her temple, while she sobbed into his suit coat.
"Let's get it over with, Gabby." He unzipped her dress and stepped back a pace.
Gabby let the dress slide to the
"Cancel it."
"I can't."
"Of course you can. Cancel it."
"Ace! I need the money. It's an honest way to make what I need."
He snorted. "Honest, maybe. Utterly slutty, too. Is that what you're tryin' to become? Is that how you think of yourself?"
"I'm not a slut. You know that."
"I'm beginnin' to wonder if I know you at all."
Her heart was breaking. Losing his respect was a hundred times worse than she ever could have imagined. Even if their parting was inevitable, she needed to know he thought well of her--could remember her as someone special in a good way. "Please don't hate me, Ace."
"I'm goin' to pay for the nursin' aides for your mother until you get your finances straightened out. You will not be resortin' to this sleazy behavior again, young lady."
She didn't want to take his money, but it would be a huge relief not to have to worry so much about her mother, and to be able to pursue her modeling career within the bounds of decency. The whole idea of being in a "stroke magazine" horrified her, and she'd nearly fallen into the pit. "Okay. I'll cancel it."
He gestured toward her purse. "Do it now. I want to hear it myself."
"You don't trust me?"
"Should I, after you did such a damn crazy thing?"
He might never trust her again, and that brought tears to Gabby's eyes. Remorse dripped down her cheeks and fell on her hands as she dug her phone out of her purse.
It took a few minutes to get to the right person, but finally she got her agent on the line. "Becky, it's Gabby Appleby."
"Hi, Gabby. How ya doin'?" The woman's Brooklyn accent was pronounced.
"I'm okay. Listen, something has come up and I can't get to the HunkaChunka rehearsal this afternoon."
"You can't? That might nix the deal. You sure you can't make it?"
"I am having..." She glanced at Ace. "Second thoughts."
"Look, Gabby. The money is good. These people are professionals. No one is going to make you feel like a tart."
"I already feel like a tart, Becky. Cancel for me, please."
There was a long-suffering sigh. "Alright. I might be able to come up with something for you next week. Something with your clothes on. But the money won't be as good."
"That's okay. If it's legit, I'll take it."
"I'll call you."
"Thanks."
She pressed disconnect and put the phone away. Her sense of self got immeasurably lighter. The tears had dried on her face.
"Good girl," Ace told her. "Take off your clothes and prepare for a spankin' like the one you got when I first met you."
"Oh no, Ace. Please. I made a mistake. It was an honest mistake."
He snorted. "So honest that you kept it from me like a dirty secret."
There was no denying that. "I'm ashamed." Tears formed again, and her breath hitched as a sob escaped. "Please don't hate me, Ace."
He tilted her chin up. "Look at me." She did. "I don't hate you, Gabby. But I am gonna teach you a lesson. No matter how much you need money, there's a better answer than abasin' yourself. If you'd thought that through, you'd have realized that takin' help from a friend is not the same thin'. You don't need to be embarrassed about needin' money, Gabby. You need to be embarrassed about how you decided to go about getting' it."
"I guess I deserve it, but it's our last day together." Another sob escaped her. "I don't want it to go badly. I guess it's too late for that." She broke down in tears, the tension of the day overwhelming her. She felt dirty and embarrassed and a little panicked about her relationship with Ace. She had to take the money from him, and that would mean an ongoing relationship of debtor and creditor. It wasn't what she'd have liked, but any tie was better than none.
He smelled so good, and it was so comforting to have his arms around her as he pulled her in close. He whispered nonsense into her ear and kissed her temple, while she sobbed into his suit coat.
"Let's get it over with, Gabby." He unzipped her dress and stepped back a pace.
Gabby let the dress slide to the
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