Chapter 99

With one last longing look at me, the perv slinks away back to the bar. Defeated.

I turn to stare at the older guy in awe. My cheeks are flushed and I have butterflies in my stomach. He’s strikingly attractive, not to mention the cool, in-control demeanor he gives off. Even though I’m usually the celebrity, I find myself stumbling over my words like a heart-eyed, starstruck fangirl in front of him.

“Oh my god. You’re a lifesaver. Thank you,” I gasp.

“Anytime. That guy was a creep,” he answers. “Luckily, he’s a coward, too. Would’ve been a real mood-killer to have to kick his ass down the beach.”

Normally, I’m not the one to be impressed by tough-guy talk, but it’s different with him. Because it’s not empty words, it’s the truth. There’s no doubt in my mind this guy could and absolutely would fight someone to defend my honor. I feel a little swoony just thinking about it.

“I’m glad it didn’t come to that, but I owe you big time. I thought he’d never leave. How can I repay you? Can I buy you a drink or something?” I offer.

“You don’t owe me anything, Miss Cherry. In fact, I’d like to make you an offer,” he begins smoothly.

I cock my head to the side. “What do you mean?”

“We both know what kind of lifestyle you live,” he goes on. “Takes a lot of cash to jump from one exotic location to the next. Costs money to dress designer, too. And all those expensive hotel rooms. Not to mention you have to deal with guys like that.”

I’m speechless. He smiles and keeps going.

“I bet it wears on you after a while. Doing everything yourself but only doing it for other people. You go to all these beautiful places, and you’re surrounded by beautiful people, but at the end of the day, it’s a job. Not an easy one, either. I see how hard you work. I see the effort behind those effortless photos and captions. You’re good at what you do, but you don’t have to do it alone. Not anymore,” he explains.

He whips out a white envelope and hands it to me. I frown at it.

“What’s this?” I ask, taking it with hesitation.

“I’ve had my eye on you for a while, Vanessa. What I have in mind is a mutually beneficial arrangement. I can make your dreams come true. I can take the stress out of your life so that you can actually enjoy it. All you have to do is be mine,” he concludes.

He leans in, gives me a kiss on the cheek, and pats the envelope in my hand.

“I’ll be hearing from you soon,” he says warmly, and then saunters away.

I stare after him in pure shock for a moment. Then I decide to head back up the beach to the resort where I’m staying, envelope in hand. I manage to slink away from the bar without another tipsy perv following me, and once I finally retreat to the privacy of my room, plop down on the bed and open up the envelope. A few items come falling out onto my lap.

“What even?” I murmur, my eyes going wide.

There’s a wad of cash strapped with a pink ribbon. Like a gift. My hands shake as I flip through the stack of hundreds. It’s a lot of money.

Thousands of dollars.

“Holy cow,” I gasp.

But that’s not all. There’s also a room key almost identical to mine, proving that my mystery benefactor is staying in the same resort, as well as a slick, silvery business card. I inspect the card, reading off Leo Pierce, travel writer. It dawns on me suddenly that this guy is no ordinary joe-- he’s famous, too! I’ve definitely heard his name before, and it’s always said with great reverence. He’s a guy who knows the industry well, and he writes beautifully. And judging by the pile of cash in my lap, his skills are paying off.

This is more than enough money to pay for the rest of my stay here in Malibu and then some. Leo Pierce, famous writer, critic, and world traveler, wants to join forces with me. I remember his wording: all you have to do is be mine.

My heart is racing. This is an offer I can’t refuse.

I flip over the business card and find a phone number. I immediately send a text message.

I’m in.

The response comes within seconds.

Perfect. Come to my room tomorrow at noon for our first adventure.

I lay back on the bed, squealing with excitement. The rest of the day can’t pass by quickly enough; I’m so excited for tomorrow! It’s a massive relief to know where my next meal is coming from. I get to keep doing my thing, and Leo will fund it. He said he would make my dreams come true… and I believe him. I drift off to sleep, and my dreams are filled with desire.

The next morning, I wake up smiling. I spend the morning getting ready and anxiously watching the clock. I put on a romantic pink dress and comfortable, cute shoes in case our ‘adventure’ requires steady footing. I braid my long blonde waves into two plaits, one over each shoulder, and add a floppy white hat. Just before noon, I hurry to the elevator down the hall and ride up to the top floor-- the penthouse suite where Leo is staying. My heart is racing, my palms are sweating. After dreaming about him all night, I’m eager to see Leo again. I wonder what my new sugar daddy has in store for me.

I have the room key he gave me, but I still knock politely at his door. I hear footsteps approaching and then the door swings open. Leo lights up to see me, and I feel like I’m floating an inch off the ground just seeing him.

He looks me up and down and smiles.

“Well, hello. You are insanely beautiful,” he remarks.

I blush. “Thank you. You look very handsome, yourself.”

It’s true.He’s wearing simple, high-end black joggers, a gray henley with the sleeves rolled to his elbows, and athletic sneakers. The ensemble shows off his killer physique, and he somehow manages to look just as chic in athletic wear as he would in a slick suit. Gone are the designer shades, so I can get lost in his warm brown eyes with flecks of pear-green in them. I even adore the teensy faint lines at the corners of his eyes. There’s infinite kindness and wisdom in that gaze, and I find myself entranced by him.

He steps out into the hallway and offers me his arm. “Shall we?”

I nod happily. “Let’s go! But, uh, where are we going?”

“Taking a gentle hike up to a scenic, secluded spot. Most people don’t know about it yet, but with a little cash lubrication, you can get the locals to tell you where the good spots are. It’s beautiful there, and quiet. You can shoot some content there for your followers,” he points out.

“Wow, that sounds great!” I chirp back.

To my delight, it turns out to be a hike up to the same cliffs I admired from down the beach yesterday. The weather is perfect for a hike. The sky is blue, there’s a gentle breeze, and there’s nobody around up here. We can see and hear the faint sounds of beachgoers down the way, but up here it’s nothing but us and the wind. We chat as we steadily climb our way up.

“So you’re a travel writer,” I begin.

“Yes. I’ve written various columns and articles over the years. Shot some reels for a couple TV shows, I’ve done podcasts, photoshoots, the usual. My work has taken me all over the world. I’ve been to every continent except Antarctica, but as soon as they open a restaurant there, I’ll be the first to make a reservation,” Leo jokes.

“Wow! You’ve been everywhere,” I reply.

“Judging by your social media posts, so have you,” he says.

I smile wistfully. “I’ve been lucky. I never even left my home state until I started this whole influencer thing,” I reveal.

“Where’s home for you?” he prompts as we walk out onto the plateau at the top of the cliff sides.

“Alabama. My accent isn’t very strong these days, but when I call home, you can hear it in my voice,” I laugh. “My mom and sister are still there. I send them money whenever I can.”

“How’d you get into this industry?” he asks.

“Well, I was eighteen years old, walking to work as a grocery cashier when this talent scout stopped me in the street. I thought he was joking at first, but he offered me a brand deal for this luxury beachwear line. It seemed like a one-off thing, but when I posted about it online, it went viral. Overnight, I got a ton of followers and offers to fly me out for various ads and deals. It started with flying to New York and L.A. Then it was London, Madrid, Berlin, Hawaii-- all these places I never even let myself dream about because it seemed so out of reach,” I sigh.

“Sounds like you’ve really made it,” he comments.

“But it’s stressful sometimes, pretending to be someone I’m not. I fly to these amazing locations, but I’m no heiress. Every flight is for a work trip.

My photos make me look like a socialite jetsetter, but I’m actually just a regular traveler on a budget,” I shrug.

“Not anymore,” Leo tells me. “Stick with me, and you’ll never have to think about a budget ever again.”

“You’re so kind. But why me?” I ask honestly.

Leo takes my hand and gently leads me closer to the edge of the cliff so we can look out over the water, the beach, the horizon beyond. It’s a breathtaking sight.

“Wow. So beautiful,” I murmur.

“It is. But part of the beauty is having someone to share it with,” he says. “Traveling alone is rewarding. It’s an adventure. But traveling together? There’s nothing better. As for why I chose you...”