Chapter 18

I woke early on Wednesday and went into the office to finish the work I’d neglected the day before following my meeting with Beatrice. All of my girls were still asleep when I left and rather than risk disturbing them, I got a takeaway breakfast and coffee from a drive-thru burger joint and ate it at my desk while browsing the updated stats from our website.

Before getting started on my outstanding work, I logged into my Twitter account and took a look at some of the tweets I’d been mentioned in and some of the direct messages I’d been sent. I could see that Ashley had already responded to most of them—she must have been working on it for a couple of hours the night before judging by the volume—but it was fascinating to see how many porn stars were contacting me and how diverse they were.

There were girls in the early stages of their career, girls who might be considered veterans and even girls looking for their big break. There were girls of eighteen and nineteen marketing themselves as barely legal, girls in their early to mid-twenties who fit the sexy housewife, young mother and horny secretary archetypes, and there were older women who catered to the so-called MILF market.

I found myself browsing Twitter profiles, Instagram profiles and searching for various contacts on the web and in the archive of JLP movies on our store. Time ran away with me and when Mel sauntered into my office at nine-thirty, carrying a coffee and a croissant and wearing an outfit that I’m certain turned a more than a few heads in the lobby and corridors of the building—despite the number of creatives that worked here—I’d been browsing porn from my desk for over two hours.

“What are you working on?” Mel asked as she put the coffee on the desk and came around to sit on my lap. “Anything—Oh! Bobby, this doesn’t look like the kind of financial advice most people need.” She used the sweet and innocent voice she often used when performing.

I rolled my eyes then said, “I checked my Twitter.”

“And then checked out some of the girls who want you to fuck them. I get it.” She grinned. “I don’t blame you, either.” She wiggled her bottom in my lap. “Need any help with ... anything? Any... assistance with any problems that may be harming your focus?”

I stared into her beautiful brown eyes and after an age said, “I’m good. I think. But thanks anyway.”

She raised an eyebrow. “You sure? I know you get grumpy if you don’t get your morning blowie and you snuck out so early this morn—”

“I do not get grumpy,” I said.

“No, it doesn’t sound like it.” She wiggled her bottom in my lap again as she re-adjusted to look at the screen. “So, see anyone who grabs your fancy?”

“One or two.”

“I’ll bet. In fact, I bet it’s more like one or two dozen. But you need to be careful, Bobby. Some of these girls have terrible reputations for being difficult to work with.”

“So did Amber, if you remember.”

Mel turned to look at me. “What are you saying? Are you going to become a porn star whisperer or something? Turning around girls who cause producers trouble with the power of your magic cock?”

I shrugged.

“It is magic, you know. Your cock.” She winked and I rolled my eyes at her yet again.

“I guess I’ll have to wait until you, Ash and Emma give me a list before I make any decisions.”

“Good idea. Although I have to be honest, there’ll be a few girls on the list who I haven’t worked with before and would really like to, so I’ll be pushing you to choose those.”

“You really are a slut, aren’t you?”

“Yep. Forget your notch count going up, this is my chance to taste some new pussy too.”

“And we all know how much you like to taste new pussy.”

She shrugged. “New Pussy. Old Pussy. Any pussy really.”

“Slut.”

“And proud of it.” She rubbed her round arse against me one more time. “Are you sure you don’t need—”

“I’m sure.” I paused. “And as much as I love you, I think you should go so I can actually do some work.”

Mel smiled. A smile wider and brighter than any I’d seen from her in a few months.

“What?” I said.

“I think...” She paused. “I think that’s the first time you’ve admitted you love me.”

I panicked. “Mel, I—”

“It’s okay,” she said as she reached out to stroke the side of my head. “I understand. I get it. You’re not in love with me. I’m not in love with you either. But I do love you. And I’ve always known you love me too. But that’s the first time I’ve heard you say it. Oh, I know full well that what you feel for me pales in comparison to the love you have for Emma. Or Dom. But it’s—”

“Stop,” I said. “Stop right there. Don’t you dare compare yourself to anyone else. You’re you. Melanie Moore. And I love you for who you are. And yes, I love Emma with all my heart. All my soul. But there will always be room for you as well. I’ll make sure of that. You’re a very special young woman, Mel. And I love you.”

Her smile changed. It became crooked. Contemplative. Then she leaned forward slowly and kissed my lips tenderly. No tongues. No passion. Just tenderness. Just love. Then, with her lips just millimetres from mine and staring right into my eyes she whispered, “If you were twenty years younger...”

Then she pulled away from me, stood up and smoothed out the wrinkles in her skirt from sitting and wiggling in my lap. “Make sure you’re all done by lunchtime. Emma will come and get you and you’re taking us to Westell Mill, then into town to do some shopping. Okay?” She kissed me again, short and sweet, winked and said playfully, “See you later. Mr Dick.”