Pavel
I don’t know how long it will take Kayla, but I figure there’s time to take her car to a carwash and get an exterior and interior clean. She hasn’t texted by the time it’s finished, so I take a chance and bring it to the Jiffy Lube for an oil change and tune up, sliding a hundred dollar bill into the guy in charge’s hand to get it done quickly.
Afterward, I drive around L.A., looking at it for the first time. I realize I don’t even know where Kayla lives. I was playing fantasy dom—meeting her at Black Light and then bringing her to a hotel room for the weekend.
Now, though, things have shifted.
I see a commercial real estate sign in front of a large apartment complex and some wild and ridiculous notion pops in my head. I pull over to call the number on the sign.
“This is Larry,”
