“When did you want me to leave for England?” she asked, defeated.

“Two weeks, when your father and I head to the Hamptons. I told you she’d make the right decision in the end,” her mother commented snidely as she turned to her father. “Our daughter will always choose the easy life.”

Peter didn’t answer. Instead he got to his feet.

“I need a coffee,” he commented absently as he left the room. That was it. Kim’s dad had basically just whored out his only daughter, and all he could say was he needed coffee.

Tears filled her eyes as she stood up and headed for the door.

“I’ll let the Andrewses know to expect you,” her mother said to her back as Kim left. “You’ve made a very wise choice this time, Kimberley. Very wise indeed.”

Chapter 3

Then

That night, as Kim and her friend Natasha made their way from club to club in Manhattan, she drank herself into oblivion, trying to put the disgusting sordidness of her parents’ request—no, demand—out of her mind.

Part of her hoped that she’d just wander out on the street and have a cabdriver end her misery for her. She was too cowardly to do it herself.

Had she really acquiesced to this? Agreed to barter herself for her family in order to secure a future for herself?

“Hey, slow down—we’re not eighteen anymore,” Natasha encouraged, but Kim was hearing none of it.

“I’m fine,” she slurred as she pushed her way again toward the bar.

“I think you’ve had enough, actually,” her friend interjected as she attempted to get in her way. But Kim could be persistent and with the level of alcohol that now coursed through her veins, she felt unstoppable.

“Bartender!” she yelled as she slapped the top of the electric green counter.

“Seriously,” Natasha insisted, grabbing her wrist, “you’ll break your hand the way you’re hitting that.”

“So what,” Kim snapped as she yanked it away. “What difference does it make? The Andrewses will just get a slightly bruised whore for a daughter-in-law.”

Daughter-in-law... The word disgusted her and the notion of charming some guy into marriage made her want to throw up.

“Hey! Vodka,” she shouted as she raised her glass above her head and waved frantically at the bartender. The guy, who knew Kim well, hustled over and grabbed the empty glass from her hand.

“Another one, princess?” He smirked. Normally Kim wouldn’t have entertained his flirtations but today was different. “You sure?”

“Hey, if you’re pouring then I’m drinking,” she teased, leaning across the bar, practically falling over it, and kissing him.

“OK, enough,” Natasha stated as she grabbed Kim by the hem of her skirt and heaved her backward. “What the hell are you doing?”

“My thing,” Kim spat. “What I do best. Make guys like me,” she drawled drunkenly.