My bank account was already crying, but my curiosity won out, and I tapped Buy Now before I could second guess myself. I’d be eating with the Santiagos for the next week, whether I liked it or not.

I flipped back to her website and scrolled to the top of the page and the job opportunity. There was a spot to click for more information, so I followed the link. Once the page loaded, I read out loud.

“New York Times best-selling author, Charlotte Jones, has announced the launch of a new risqué series for the summer of 2020. Known as an author who defies the rules, Jones has stated in countless interviews that everything goes regardless of what people deem socially acceptable and has announced she will be writing a kinky, taboo series that will explore the forbidden and highly sought after realm of twincest.”

The gears screeched to a halt. “Wait. Say what now? Twincest? What the ever-loving—”

I kept reading.

“Fans have shown overwhelming support and excitement for this decision, and it has become the most highly anticipated series of Charlotte’s career.

In preparation for the launch of this series, Charlotte is diligently seeking identical twins between the ages of nineteen and twenty-five who fit the profile of her two main characters and who are willing to model for the purpose of no less than six book covers. The chosen twins would also be required to film no less than six short teaser videos that would act as trailers for each consecutive book launch. The photo shoots and videos would require some moderate and sexually suggestive poses and situations, including nudity, which would be edited to a socially acceptable level for publication.

We will come to you! Location is not an issue.

Payment of fifteen hundred dollars per photograph and twenty-five hundred dollars per finished video is negotiable.

Only serious applicants should apply. Please send portfolio pictures and experience, if any, to Jay Lavero at [email protected].”

I blinked, my jaw hanging loose, then I blinked again. Fifteen hundred per … and twenty-five for the…

“Jesus, that’s like—” I did the quick math in my head. “There’s no way that’s right. Twenty-four thousand dollars?”

I pulled out my phone and typed the numbers into my calculator app, no longer trusting my brain.

“Twenty-fucking-four thousand dollars! Oh my God.”

That was an insane amount of money to make for modeling for a few pictures. It would pay for my final year of school. Hell, I might be able to move out of Aaron’s basement. All I had to do was—

I cringed as my eyes skipped back over the words nudity and sexually suggestive. “With my brother? What the fuck is wrong with this woman? That’s not sexy. That’s disgusting, lady. Who the hell gets off on shit like that?”