Adrift

in the flesh finding out about my account—and I didn’t even do nudes.
Scarlet carried on, telling me about a date she’d gone on. Then she told me about a fight she’d had with her sister. I listened to my friend and gave her as much of a rah-rah pick-me-up as I could muster.
“That guy sounds undesirable. You absolutely do not need him. And your sister doesn’t understand. She will one day.”
Scarlet lived in London, so her OnlyFans world bore some distinct differences to mine. For one, prostitution was legal for her. And she didn’t have an issue with it, although she’d only accepted those gigs a few times. From her perspective, it was a temporary means to an end. Sometimes that end was food, sometimes rent, and once a new pair of boots. Her long-term objective was the more lucrative income film offered.
When I got home, I stared at my presentation, unsure how to fix it. Gabe had no recommendations for improvement. I needed to change something before meeting with the next loan application office, but what? The temptation to toss my laptop into the Cape Fear grew, but I talked myself off the crazy.
I tapped away on the little black keys. Deleted all OnlyFans mentions. Altered the business description but left my business name, Star Enterprises. Something told me I had to keep the name on there, as that was filed in some database somewhere with my LLC information. I stared at the education line and closed the laptop before succumbing to the temptation to pick a college.
Later that night, as I topped off a bottle of wine alone on my porch, the phone rang. Gabriel Chesterton flashed on the screen. I almost tipped my glass in the rush for the phone.
“Hey!” All my girly parts squealed. He called!
“There’s my sexy girl. What are you wearing right now?” All my glee crashed.
“Seriously?”
“Too much?”
I rolled my eyes. Annoyance poked up, but I bashed it down and stayed friendly. After all, the man was a friend of a friend.
“Are we not there yet?” He sounded like he might have been smiling, but I had no smile in me.
“No. We aren’t.”
“Hmmm. Or is this the thing where you have phone sex all day with clients and when you’re off duty you don’t want to play around?”
“What exactly do you think I do?”
“Don’t you—”
“No. You know, Gabe, I really wanted to like you. But you’ve picked the wrong day to be a complete and total prick. Yes, you can find everything you want on OnlyFans. That doesn’t mean I do all of it. And if you only want an OnlyFans girl, then you need to be communicating to me via the account, not calling my personal.” My thumb hovered over the red button to end the call.
“Whoa—”
Press. End of call. I wished my phone made a clicking sound, and that thought had me wondering if an app existed that created sounds to accompany the buttons. I’d like to hear Siri in the sophisticated British tone I chose say, “Goodbye, asshat.”
The phone lit up once again. I debated answering for a few seconds but then caved. Friend of a friend and all that.
“Yes?”
“Did you hang up on me?” Shock enveloped his words.
“Yeah.” Get over it.
“Don’t do that. If I say something that offends you, tell me. But don’t end the call. I had a shitty day. I called you because I was reaching out as a friend.”
“Yeah, do you ask all your friends what they’re wearing when you call them? Does Tate give you a good rundown?”
“Fine. I might…I don’t know. That was bad flirting. I got it. I won’t do it again.”
I sipped my wine, waiting for an actual apology.
“How’d your meeting with the bank go?”
My emotions shimmied around uncontrollably. “Not well. I’ve decided that on my next loan application I need to take a different approach to describe my current business.”
“What did they say about it?”
“It wasn’t a they. It was a he. And…” I trailed off, unsure about what to admit.
“Did he come on to you?” he asked. I thought I picked up on a mixture of anger and disbelief. The desire to hang up on him evaporated.
“In a totally professional way. Maybe I was reading into it.” It was probably all in my head. He really didn’t do anything wrong. Some might say he was being nice.
“Tell me what he said.”
“He said I wasn’t likely to get a loan without experience running a restaurant, but he was willing to help me work on my business plan—if I met him at a hotel bar.” I held my breath for Gabe’s reaction, curious. He could say that was normal and how things were done in the business world. In Wilmington, I’d seen business executives hovering around the bar. I’d been in the exact Holiday Inn bar he mentioned once.
Gabe muttered something I couldn’t quite pick up. “Look, the restaurant sector isn’t an area I know. But let me make some phone calls. I’ll have an industry expert consult with you.”
“That’s—”
“Poppy, this is how it’s done. You learn from those with more experience and knowledge. I could tell you something off the top of my head that needs improvement in your presentation, but my feedback won’t be as useful as an industry expert. And what the banker said, about the lack of experience, that could be a legitimate obstacle. Does the chef you are partnering with have any ownership or management experience?”
“No.” I’d fluffed his experience up. Clay was currently the line cook at Jules. But he liked healthy food. And my plan was for more of a wine bar, a place for vacationing adults to come and hang out in a relaxing atmosphere, even after dinner.
“Let me make some calls.”
“How much would a consultant cost?”
“Consider it a favor for hanging out with me and letting me crash on your sofa.”
“Gabe, I don’t want to be indebted to you. How much?”
“Won’t cost a thing. I’ll call in some favors. It’ll be an initial