I look at Natalie. "You know the first thing I thought of when you told me to put my head between my legs? Marilyn Manson."

"What the fuck for and why?"

"I heard he had some ribs taken out so he can suck his own dick."

She blinks, and remains quiet for a second, then lets out a hilarious chuckle. "This is why we're besties. It's shit like this that comes out of your mouth that just confirms we're soul mates. Wait—did you think I was telling you to get yourself off?"

It's my turn to giggle. "No, he just popped into my head for some reason. I felt like I was bent over really far and he just appeared in front of me, pasty white face and all, but I swear he had piranha teeth." I pause, thinking about how weird this conversation is now. "I guess I wondered if he could actually do it or not."

"That'd be some sick shit, but after all the Johns I've had the last couple of years, I wouldn't be surprised if he could."

She's not even phased. I'd seen a lot in my escorting days, but Natalie's been around the block a time or two more. The stories she’s told me is not something you can make up off the top of your head. No one person has an imagination like that.

"Bet you a million bucks he does it." She puts her hand out.

Natalie is thinking deeper over this for some reason, while I'm trying to not allow my imagination to run wild.

"Now that I’ve poured my heart out to you, tell me why you're leaving me."

Natalie's face softens with a dewy look. She has this innocent, sweet look on her face that causes her to appear five years younger.

I chuckle inwardly. In reality, she eats men for breakfast and spits them out.

"Only if you promise me you won't reject my dad again because of me." She waves her hand in the air in a dismissive motion. "Listen, you're stuck with me forever, whether you have a piece of paper between you guys or not. It makes no fucking difference to me. So why not make it official?"

My lips twitch. New Yorkers have a way about themselves that come off as pushy and arrogant to non-New Yorkers. If I didn't know any better, I'd say she was trying to scold me because the truth was so painfully obvious she couldn't handle it anymore.

But I wouldn't say that. She's just trying to get real with me and get me to see it for what it is.

I glance down and the smile falls from my face. "You really think he's going to ask me to marry him again after I shot him down multiple times? Fat chance." Before she can respond, I divert the conversation back to Italy. My heart can't handle another ounce of anxiety over rejecting James. "So, Italy? What part and why?"