I stuff my phone in my purse and look up at the wall that’s covered in framed photos of Patty Ford. Some clothed . . . some not. All of them are extremely hot.
God, to be that comfortable with your body, to have your office lobby decorated in naked pictures of yourself. It does give me an idea, though. I know Levi mentioned it, but I think it would be fun to take some boudoir pictures for him, print them in a small, bounded book so when he travels, he can slip it in his bag. It would be a lot of fun, and I know he’d love it.
I’ll have to look into that when I get back home.
What is taking them so long? I feel like I’ve been sitting here for an hour. Is it an intimidation tactic? If so, it’s working. I’m shivering in my skirt.
Not to mention, I’m sweating.
My nerves are getting the best of me, and I continue to sweep my hand over the fabric of my skirt so that when Patty Ford finally meets me, she won’t be touching my clammy hand. No one likes a clam hand.
Not wanting to get myself worked up, I focus on the pictures in front of me, one in particular of her wearing nothing while she sits on the floor. Her hands are propped up behind her, her head is tilted back, and her breasts are pointed up at the ceiling.
It’s so sensual. I could envision myself doing a pose like that for Levi.
“Miss Wood,” the assistant, Deena, says, pulling me away from the picture. “Miss Ford is ready for you.”
“Oh, great,” I say as I stand.
I push down my skirt, grab my purse, and head toward the doors with Deena.
She leads me down a short hallway straight to a pink door she opens for me, revealing what I know as Patty’s home.
Her bed is right in the middle of the room positioned in front of several cameras and lighting. There’s a dining room table off to the side with an accompanying kitchen, and then to my shock, an open bathroom as well. It’s all here, but unlike what you see on camera, it’s just one giant studio. Holy shit, I had no idea.
And from the right, appearing in a lavender robe, comes Patty Ford.
“I’m so sorry about the wait,” she says as she approaches me. I catch the subtle sway of her breasts, so she’s clearly wearing nothing under the robe. And let me just say, she’s even more gorgeous in person. She holds her hand out to me. “I’m Patty, you must be Wylie.”
I take her hand in mine and say, “Yes, it’s so nice to meet you.”
Patty studies me for a second. “Have you ever considered going live on camera? You’re gorgeous. People would pay great money to watch you take your clothes off.”
My cheeks blush as I say, “Not sure my boyfriend would want to share me like that.”
Patty smirks. “They never do.” She gestures to a table off to the side that I hadn’t noticed.
I follow her and take a seat at the table and notice the portfolio awaiting me. Deena asks, “Can I get you a drink?”
“Water would be great,” I say as my mouth goes dry the moment Patty sits down and her robe wafts open. Good God, she really just doesn’t care.
“Not a problem,” Deena says and turns to Patty. She gestures to close her robe, and when Patty looks down, she smiles.
“Ooops, sorry about that. When you spend most of your day naked, you never really think about it.”
“It’s fine,” I say. “Not to be weird or anything, but it’s not like I haven’t seen it before.”
Patty laughs. “I guess you’re right about that.” She crosses one leg over the other and asks, “So you’ve watched my videos?”
“I have,” I say. “Introduced my boyfriend to them. They’re really good.”
“Thank you. I appreciate that and love that you’re a woman who watches them. My clientele is mostly men, so I love knowing a female is enjoying them as well.”
“Well, my best friend enjoys them with her boyfriend too.”
“I love that.” She glances at the time on Deena’s phone and sighs as Deena places water in front of us. “I hate to rush, but I’m between private sessions right now. I’m sorry the last one ran late, but I offer my patrons the opportunity to buy bonus time, and well, the man I was with last was stacking up bonus time. So I apologize.”
“Not a problem at all.”
“Well, let’s get down to business. I loved the pictures. You are incredibly talented, and I thought your proposal, offering these prints to patrons who buy into a subscription every month, was genius. Deena and I were talking, and we both agree that this would be a very lucrative opportunity. But she came up with the idea where patrons, for an extra price, can send in a picture of themselves to have you draw an erotic scene of me with that person. Is that something you could do?”
“Oh my goodness, that’s such an innovative idea.” I wonder if they’d be willing to send pictures of them on their hands and knees. “And yes, I’d possibly need to have a fairly specific photo of the person to get their body accurate. Positioning. Proportions, that sort of thing.”
“Totally agree, and we could provide specifics to patrons once they sign and pay perhaps?”
“Definitely,” Deena adds.
“We’re thinking that there’d only be a certain amount of those available every month. So there would be tiered packages. The top tier would be offered all the prints for that month, plus the personalized one. This would be an extravagant price, and we’d only have five available.”
“Ooo, you could have them outbid each other,” I say, and Patty’s eyes light up.
“That’s brilliant.”
“They’d bid high,” Deena says.
“Yes, they would.” Keeping her eyes on me, Patty says, “We can work out the details, but I’d love to get you on board . . . exclusively. Meaning, I wouldn’t want you doing this for anyone else, especially since some people have already copied the model I’ve developed.”
“Wait, you want to hire me?”
“Yes,” Patty says. “And offer you forty percent of any purchases of your prints on my website, including all tiers.”
“F-forty?” I ask, utterly shocked.
“Yes, Deena and I, which, I’m sorry I didn’t introduce you, but Deena is my wife. We both believe that women should support women, and with your talent, we want to make sure you’re compensated properly, especially since this was your idea.”
Uh, my mind is racing.
First of all . . . wife?
I had no idea.
Second of all . . . forty percent?
Holy shit.
If Patty even sold two prints for five thousand each per month, that’s four thousand dollars. That’s three grand after tax. And I know she’d sell more than that. Possibly double. I can live on that. And if my name is associated with Patty’s in the art world . . . this is incredible. “Thank you, Patty. I’m speechless. That’s such a generous offer. I feel so affirmed . . . in my art . . . as a potential businesswoman. It’s amazing.”
“We want to thank you, Wylie. We’re thrilled.” She looks at her wife, who looks at her watch. “Deena can walk you through all of the details because I have to jump on this call, but I hope you accept. I’d love to work with you on this idea.” She reaches out and clasps my hand for a second before she turns to Deena, kisses her, then heads over to the bed where she sets up her camera and removes her robe.
Dear God.
I look away as Deena says, “Why don’t we leave her to it so we can discuss details?”
“Sounds great,” I say as Deena leads me out of the room.
How is this actually happening? This is not only insane but also so unbelievably lucrative.
And the one thing that comes to mind is Levi.
This is happening because he believed in me.
He’s the reason, and I can’t wait to thank him.
LEVI
Levi: At the arena, got an extra leg workout in. Can’t wait to hear from you. Love you.
I set my phone down and lean against the bench, nervous as fuck to hear from Wylie. We kept missing each other yesterday so I haven’t talked to her. I tried texting her a few times, but she’s been quiet, which makes me feel ill. Her distance leads me to believe that things didn’t go the way she wanted them to.
And if that’s the case, I need to be ready. Thankfully, we’re on a long home stretch, so I’ll have time to be with her, and I’ll even fly her out to our next away trip if need be.
“What are you doing?” Halsey asks as he comes into the locker room, straight from the showers. When I sent a text to the boys saying I was going in for another leg workout, Halsey offered to join me.
“Just thinking,” I say.
“Thinking about what?” He sits down and runs another towel through his hair, drying off the short strands.
“Nothing I think I can share right now.”
He sets the towel on the bench next to him and slides a pair of briefs under his towel. Not sure why he’s being shy. The man has a fucking monster of a cock. He should be flapping that thing around every chance he gets.
“You’re in a relationship, aren’t you?”
“Why do you think that?” I ask.