She still hadn’t told Ava about Gabe, though she was practically bursting to share. It wouldn’t be fair, not with her friend so damaged and broken. So Nat kept it to herself, tried to suppress her delighted smiles, hide her dreamy stares when her mind drifted back to their time together. The relationship had been going for nearly two weeks, if she counted from their first date, which she did. As clichéd as it sounded, she had never felt this way. Not even in the early days with Cole. Not with Miguel. Those boys couldn’t make her feel secure, cherished, adored. That took a man.

But this was not a storybook romance; she knew that. It was a financial arrangement between two consenting adults who had laid out the parameters of their relationship up front. No strings. No commitment, obligation, or drama. And above all, no emotional attachment. This was about enjoying their time together, as limited as it may be, with no thought for the future. Because there wouldn’t be one. Her brain knew it, but her heart begged to differ.

On their fourth date, that rare Saturday rendezvous, Nat thought they might consummate their relationship. But she’d been terrified. What if Gabe’s fifty-five-year-old body didn’t look as good beneath the ten-thousand-dollar suit? Would she be turned off? Men his age were prone to erectile dysfunction, judging by the embarrassment of Cialis ads featuring fit, handsome fiftysomethings that ran during her mom’s Shonda Rhimes programs. How would Nat deal with that? Or, what if Gabe took the Cialis or some other sexual-performance-enhancing drug and she had to deal with an eight-hour erection?

Even more terrifying was the possibility that it would go well. That she would be attracted to him and the sex would be amazing. Then what? Gabe would hand her an envelope full of cash in a month’s time, thereby turning her into a full-fledged prostitute. It was all too overwhelming.

When Gabe had taken her back to his place after an incredible dinner in the Meatpacking District, she’d expressed her fear. “I’m sorry. I don’t think I’m ready.”

“I’ll wait,” he’d said. “I want you to want this as much as I do.”

Gabe had slept on the sofa that night, afraid he couldn’t control himself in bed next to her. She knew he wouldn’t wait much longer. He was a man with needs. For thirty-five hundred a month, he’d want more than a dinner companion, more than a teddy bear. She wanted to be close to him, to share that intimacy, too. But she was afraid of how it would impact her emotionally.

She ordered two lattes and waited in the crowded shop, scanning her phone. Her mom had texted to check in. Since Cole had been in New York roughly two weeks without contacting Nat, they were all beginning to relax. Gabe had texted her, too. They had made plans to go to a show on Thursday night. What did she want to see? This would be Natalie’s first Broadway experience. She had no idea what was playing, what was good.