11

“Since this morning, apparently,” Ava said, hooking her arm into Gabriel’s. “And I might need your help to pick out more than a dress,” she added.

“Ava,” Gabriel whined. “I told you, just because I’m gay, it doesn’t mean I like shopping,” he objected.

“Please, pretty please? You are the only one I can trust. I know you will tell me the truth about what fits and what doesn’t. And I will spill the tea, and it is a really, really excellent tea to spill,” she begged.

“Damn you and your knowledge of my weaknesses. It better be the best tea I have ever heard,” he groaned.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you,” she said. They headed into the first shop to start their hunt. Ava felt bad she had to lie to her friend, but she couldn’t tell him the truth. She didn’t think she would survive if Gabriel cut her out of his life. He was a good man, but Ava knew when she more or less voluntary signed a sex contract, she had become a glorified sex worker, a pet. She didn’t think anyone would like someone