“Wife send you in?” Dana asked.
“Something like that.” Gregory laughed, and then he held up his hand, showing that he wore no ring. “No wife, though. Not really a girlfriend either. Just a woman, I’m afraid. I hope you don’t think I’m some sort of lecherous worm.”
“Hey, your business is your own business, and if it means you’re buying from me, then it’s good business.”
“I’ve never had this request, I must admit,” the man said. “I’m certainly adventurous enough, but this young lady would like me to watch her…with one of her friends.”
Dana blushed again and nodded.
“Does sex embarrass you?” the man asked.
“No,” Dana whispered.
“I’m Greg,” the man said, holding his hand out. “Nice to meet you.”
Dana shook his hand, and then, after hearing his name, she realized she knew him. Well, knew who he was at least.
“You’re Gregory Jones,” she said, and the man nodded. She went on. “You founded CastMe.com.”
CastMe.com was a website that had grown popular over the two years since its launch. Wannabe actors, singers, and other entertainers could pay a monthly fee to post demos on the site. Then places like management companies and production companies that had partnered with the site could go and look for whatever they needed. More than a few new faces had been found for some big products, and everyone looking to make it big in entertainment was signing up. Greg had become a billionaire when he sold the site less than six months ago. Dana had known that Gregory Jones had grown up in her small town, but she didn’t know he ever came back.
“You visiting?” she asked.
“I moved home,” Greg said. “I’m just not a big city guy, though we’re close enough that I can scratch certain itches when need be.”
“Itches like seeing your new friend with another girl?”
“Exactly,” Greg said. “I must say, though, you intrigue me more than she ever could, no matter what lewd acts she does with her friend.”
“I intrigue you?”
“Yes. You’re beautiful, you own a store that sells cock rings and vibrators, and yet you blush when talking about those products.”
“I don’t normally,” Dana said, somewhat defensively.
“I’d like to take you to dinner. This weekend?” the man asked her.
“I don’t know,” Dana said, but she did know. She didn’t want to be some second fiddle to whatever floozy he was buying the strap-on dildo for.
She thought he would argue, but the rich man simply reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a card. He handed it to her, and she looked at it. It simply had his name and a phone number. The paper stock was thick, as luxurious as such a thing could be.
“If you change your mind, call me,” Greg said. “Now, which of these strap-ons would you recommend?”
Greg didn’t linger in Dana’s store, though he lingered in her mind. For the rest of the day, after he was long gone, she thought of him. That night she lay in bed, the TV on, casting her in a soft blue glow, but she didn’t pay attention to the Gilmore Girls rerun. She had the card in her hand, and she turned it over and over in her fingers. She glanced at her clock. It was almost midnight. She wasn’t sure she should call so late, but she reached for her cell phone and dialed the number anyway.
When Greg answered, he was panting. She thought he might be sleeping, but it dawned on her that he was probably screwing. She almost hung up, but something kept her from doing so.
“Hello?” the man said.
“I’m in,” she said.
“Fantastic, Dana,” Greg said. He had asked her name as he was checking out. “Text me your address. I’ll pick you up Saturday at eight.”
“Okay,” Dana said, and hung up. She used her phone to Google Greg. He was thirty-two, almost ten years older than she was. His father had died young, but his mother was still living. He had been an aspiring actor, but after striking out in Hollywood, he had decided to start the website.
Dana set her phone back on her end table and turned her TV off. She was going out with a billionaire. She couldn’t believe it as she drifted off to sleep.
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