“A small price?” she sputtered. “You want me to whore myself to you!”
“I’m not a whore.”
“Everyone has a price. Even you.”
“You’re wrong.” Elizabeth lifted her chin, determined to prove her point. She’d find a way — a more respectable way — to solve her problems.
She had two months to figure out the housing situation with Gretchen. Maybe she could pick up more shifts at the diner? Or maybe she could sell some of her art on eBay?
Or maybe...Sutton calmly scribbled something on the back of a business card and thrust it at her with an efficient smile.
Elizabeth accepted the card and flipped it around. She gasped. HOLY FUCKING HELL! That was a lot of zeros.
“My number is on the card. Think about it.”
And then he let himself out.
Elizabeth couldn’t think. Couldn’t see beyond that ridiculous number. The things she could do with that kind of money.
She saw all her problems fading in the shadow of that giant number. She also saw her dignity and pride shrinking in the face of that number.
No. She couldn’t do it. Money didn’t solve every problem, except hers, a small voice whispered.
No. It wasn’t that cut and dry. She was raised with morals and values. Her parents would roll over in their graves if they knew what their daughter was contemplating.
Wait...was she contemplating?
Click Follow to receive emails when this author adds content on Bublish