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She points her pen at me. “You're 100% correct about it being one-sided. Which is exactly what Pretty Kitties, or rather, PR, is going to change. The company alone is worth millions, but the CEO—along with the executive assistant who oversees the main headquarters in New York—realized they could make even more money and possibly double their profits by opening a division which exclusively caters to women.”

“But Porn Rub earns most of their revenue by ads and content uploaded by users. They don't make the content themselves, so I don't understand how they can—”

“Right now they don't,” she interjects. “But there will be some changes shortly. Users will still have the same options on the site they always have, only now there will be videos produced by Porn Rub geared toward women. The videos will include products made by Pretty Kitties in addition to the popular uploaders showcasing our toys in their videos.”

I nod because, in theory, it makes sense, but I can't help wondering. “Do you think it will be successful?”

Her jaw sets and for a moment I think she's going to let me have it, but to my surprise, she looks down at her feet. “It has to be. Otherwise, I'm royally screwed.” When she lifts her head, I notice her eyes are glassy. “If I tell you something, can I trust you'll keep it to yourself?”

I've never seen her look so timid. “Of course.”

“I was a heartbeat away from filing for Chapter 11.”

My hand flies over my mouth, not in condemnation, but in shock. “I never would have guessed. I thought business was good?”

She wrings her hands. “It is. But when I started this company three years ago, I put everything I had into it, along with things I didn't...like money. I was young and optimistic, though, so I took out a huge loan and figured I could pay it all back once it took off. But, I found out the hard way that was a terrible thing to do, because I ended up having so much debt. I was barely hanging on, which was so frustrating because sales were triple what they had been, but it still wasn't enough to save the business. The way I saw it, I only had two options. One, beg my bank for another loan—which of course they immediately denied. Or, propose a business merger with one of the largest porn companies around and make them see they were missing out on major money by not including women in their demographic, and pray they were intrigued enough to contact me. I was driving to meet with the bankruptcy attorney when I got the phone call, and they set up a meeting. After I proposed my plan and showed them my data, I had to be upfront with them about my debt. To my astonishment, they were still willing to do business together, but only if I handed them 90% of my company and gave them full control to do whatever they wanted with it—including liquidate if it doesn't produce enough of a profit for them. Luckily, I was able to negotiate a deal to keep my staff of seventeen employees as well.”

I feel so bad for her. Selling sex toys isn't an industry I ever thought I'd be involved in, but I know it's her baby. And now she has to hand it over to someone else.

“I'm sorry, Jess. I can't imagine how nervous you must be.”

She nods. “You have no idea, Kit. I'm either going to end up a millionaire by my twenty-seventh birthday. Or, I'll be living in a cardboard box.”

I instinctively reach for her hand. I can't help myself. “I won't let you fail.”

And had I turned twenty-five last month instead of twenty-four, she wouldn't have to fear being homeless, because I'd pay back those loans, and she'd get to keep full control of her company. But, as it stands currently, my financial situation isn't much better than hers. Only unlike her, I have a guaranteed light at the end of my tu

And my God, what a dark tu

After I left the hospital, vowing to never let anyone hurt me again...I was in a bad place. A place so depressing and bleak, I shut off and shut down.

I was tired of drowning. Tired of feeling. I just wanted to float and go numb.

So that's exactly what I did.

I left Woodside without graduating and sailed through life in a thick haze of various places, various substances, and various bodies.

I even ended up on the back page of a few tabloids. Something that would have devastated my introverted father who, despite his wealth, stayed far away from all things Hollywood.

I became what I swore I never would. The epitome of everything my parents despised.

But they weren't around to stop me...and I made sure I pushed away anyone who tried to. Including my best friend and my Na

I didn't care.

For eighteen months, I hung around people who had access to more money than they'd ever know what to do with but were miserable deep down—because they all knew what I did.

That even though money could buy me a lot of nice things, no amount of money could ever buy me what I truly wanted.

Money would never bring my parents back.

And it sure as hell would never buy me love—not the kind I'd always wished for. Not even when I gave all of mine away for free.

So, I partied whatever money I had saved from my prior allowances into oblivion.

Things were so much easier without any responsibilities or accountability.

My life was downright fucking beautiful when I stopped giving a shit about it.

Until it wasn't.

My reality check came in the form of a tall, leggy model from Brazil named Gabriela.

It was love at first sight, I was sure of it. Gabriela was an angel sent down to me from heaven. And the bartender who served me my third Long Island iced tea and sixth shot of vodka that night eagerly agreed as he watched us make out before we hit the dance floor.

Thirty minutes and another shot later, however; she was apologizing for having to leave because she was late for the big party her agent was throwing.

I, of course, decided to invite myself because I was both drunk and infatuated with her.

She had no objections as she grabbed my hand and led me out of the club. I remember saying we should call a cab because I was in no shape to drive—but she told me it would take too long and her agent would drop her if she didn't show up in the next half hour.

Looking back, I should have protested and told her it was a bad idea.

Instead, I swooned when she told me how good she was going to fuck me. And I didn't argue when she insisted she was sober enough to drive us there herself and took my keys out of my purse.

The last thing I remember is waking up wedged between the driver and passenger seats and the sound of sirens.

Well, that and the fact that my car went through a large glass window and was in the middle of someone's house.

Unfortunately for me, Gabriela was nowhere to be found. And given the homeowners of the house she drove my car through weren't home, and the car was registered to me, it was near impossible to prove I wasn't the driver.

But at least my girl was kind enough to leave me a token of our whirlwind romance.

A purse containing cocaine. Which, looking back, explains why her agent demanded she get to the party. The girl was holding all the entertainment.

I couldn't be that mad, though. After all, she did say she was going to fuck me good.

And boy, did she ever.

She fucked me so good...it resulted in a hospital visit, a trip to jail, expensive lawyer fees...and a record.