Praise (Salacious Players Club, #1)(4)

“What’s not true?” he replies after a moment.

“When you said we don’t like what most men like. I think our tastes are very much in line with the majority. We’re just unique in that we’re not afraid to pursue them.”

“We aren’t afraid to pursue them in a healthy way.”

“Exactly.”

“I’ll send a new girl for you tomorrow,” he says after a moment.

“Don’t bother.”

He lets out an exasperated sigh. “Are you sure? You seem stressed. We’ve got the club opening next week and investors to please and the state breathing down our necks.”

It’s true—I am stressed. On top of everything Garrett just mentioned, my son has not returned my phone calls in four months. But the idea of meeting a new pouty sub only stresses me out more.

“I don’t think you even know what you want,” he says absently, and I glance at my phone on speaker.

“I thought I did. These girls want praise, but they don’t want to earn it.”

“Negative attention is still attention,” he replies.

“And you know I don’t like brats.”

“I know, Emerson. But you’re going to have to give someone a chance to impress you before you toss them out. Let me send you another one tomorrow. There are plenty of girls willing to do whatever you want.”

“Maybe next week. Keep the application open.”

“You got it.”

After hanging up with Garrett, I sift through the pile of letters on my desk. It’s mostly junk, but there’s a handwritten envelope that grabs my attention. Cutting it open, I find a check. It’s for two thousand dollars from a name I don’t recognize. In the memo portion of the check it says, Security Deposit for Apartment 623.

It takes me a minute to realize this is Beau’s address. Or at least it was. I had no idea he even moved, let alone had the security deposit sent back to me. Didn’t he move in with that girlfriend of his?

The one he never even let me meet because he was too ashamed of me, I think grimly.

This could be good. If he needs the money back, he’ll have to come to me to get it. Picking up my phone, I type out a quick text, trying not to sound as desperate as I feel.

Your landlord sent me your security deposit. I’ll hold on to it for you. Come over whenever you need it.

Naturally, there’s no answer. The entire screen of texts are all outgoing without responses. I have confirmation from his mother that he’s at least alive and doing okay, so I can sleep at night. I just wish he’d talk to me again. Too bad disappointment seems to be the theme of my week.





RULE #3: ALWAYS DO AS YOU’RE TOLD—ESPECIALLY WHEN IT INVOLVES GETTING ON YOUR KNEES FOR A HOT MILLIONAIRE DADDY.





Charlie





“This can’t be right.”

The house I’m looking at is a three-story Spanish-style mansion with manicured palm trees, arched windows, and a cobblestone driveway.

I swear if the guy I was just dating is secretly loaded, I’m going to be so pissed. We literally dug under our couch cushions for enough coins to get Taco Bell for dinner. There’s no way this was where his dad lived all along.

Climbing out of the car, feeling very out of place in this bougie neighborhood on the coast, I brush the dog hair off my black velvet skirt and walk up the paved steps toward the front door. I can literally hear the ocean from here.

This is ridiculous.

This guy is probably wiping his ass with my thousand dollar check right now.

I ring the doorbell, but it goes unanswered for about thirty seconds. Usually, I would be relieved that they don’t seem to be home, and I’m spared the awkward encounter of having to speak to strangers, but I’m too poor to be relieved. I need the cash.

I promised Sophie I would take her to that Anime Fest in April, and her birthday is right around the corner. Also, I can’t bear to live in the casita behind my mother’s house forever.

So I knock again.

“Coming!” a sweet voice calls, and I hear high heels click against hard stone floors. When the door is pulled open, I stare into the big blue eyes of a woman with wavy brown hair and full pink lips.

“Hi…I’m here to see Mr. Grant.”

She freezes with her eyes wide and her mouth hanging open. Then she glances down at her watch. “Oh, okay…I didn’t know you were coming today, but it’s fine. Come in, come in.”

She didn’t know I was coming? I didn’t tell anyone I was coming here. Maybe Beau gave his family a heads-up that I would be picking up the check.

“Are you Mrs. Grant?” I ask. Last I knew, Beau told me his parents split when he was still a baby, but I guess it’s possible he has a new wife that I never knew about.

A laugh bursts through her lips as she shakes her head. “God, no. I’m just helping him out today. He should be back any minute. You can wait for him in the office.”

“Okay, thanks,” I mutter, as she guides me through the expansive living room with high ceilings and marble floors to the open French doors on the other side. It leads to a large office with bay windows overlooking the ocean. I’m struck speechless for a moment as I gaze out at the open water.

“Wow…” I whisper, freezing in the doorway.