But I don't.
Because I’m interrupted.
“Excuse me,” a voice calls out and I turn to the very edge of the crowd.
The gaggle of reporters, now used to the drama unfolding before them turns around, their cameras ready for what new fresh twist they’ll be receiving.
“If you’re going to go after my boys and spank them around, you’re going to have to do it over my dead body,” she says.
My eyes don’t leave her.
Natalie Vanderhill.
Looking every bit the strong, sexual woman who says fuck you to the world.
I couldn’t love her more. And I take glance at Sloane. He’s thinking the same damn thing.
“After all,” she says as she walks up towards the podium. “Only I get to spank them and that’s during sex.”
Whatever we were trying to do, Natalie has just changed the rules.
This is going to be fun.
Natalie
The entire crowd stops talking or it looks like even thinking. They turn to me.
I swear, it's like a single organism or something.
I
gulp.
“After all,” I say as I walk toward the podium. “Only I get to spank them and that’s during sex.”
Where the hell did that come from?
What am I even doing here?
Maybe this wasn't such a good idea?
I can't do this. Can I?
Wait, what am I talking about.
You're right. Of course I can do this.
I take a few deep breaths. They're still staring at me, but you know what?
Fuck them.
There. Channeling my inner Sloan Hardman while I'm walking up to the podium.
After all, I've started my own company. Not just a bakery or a coffee shop either.
No, nothing like that. I started my own sex toy company.
I made my own way in the world, doing what I loved. I said fuck you to the establishment. To the man. To everyone who told me I needed to get a job or get married.