Victoria's (Terrible) Secret

Victoria replied boldly, "God, tell me you don't know a damn thing about internet marketing without telling me you don't know. There are so many places to buy these swimsuits nowadays that you have to ask yourself, why would anyone come to you?

"Besides, how much money can you even make from sales? I have to do something more interesting to get people to click and tip like crazy. Selling swimsuits is just a side thing. The real money comes from their tips."

Yes. My expression darkened immediately. Did she just admit that she was showing her bodacious figure to every Tom, Dick, and Harry on the internet for money?

"That's it. I've had enough of this influencer business. Quit that job and join me at FedEx tomorrow. We're looking for a clerk, and you can take the position," I said, putting my foot down.

I was not going to let her keep doing this until something disgraceful happened. "My mom can take care of Martin while we're at work."

"A clerk? Seriously? I'd work my back off just to collect a paycheck of a few hundred dollars. No way. No offense to your job, but what you've been making doesn't compare to what I make," she sneered.

I was stunned. Victoria had always been soft-spoken until today.

I knew what this influencer business was like, believe me. Unemployed losers followed them so they could watch pretty girls do pretty things for free. How many of them had the money to tip every influencer they liked, let alone tip her multiple times?

I snorted. "Get over yourself. Did you forget my reputation as the 'King of Express Delivery'? I can make about 1,500 dollars a month. If we save some disposable income for a few months, we can still afford a place near a good public school.

"I don't need you working a job that exposes you like that for a few hundred bucks. We don't need that, Vicky."

Victoria pulled out a wad of cash and tossed it onto the table. "A few hundred dollars? Oh my God. You're naive. I made 3,000 dollars in one afternoon, Nolan. Take a good look."

It was mind-boggling. I could work my ass off all month and make at most 1,700 dollars, yet Victoria had earned this much in a single afternoon.

She sneered, "I knew it. You're so behind the times you didn't even know. The audience doesn't care how good the swimsuits look on them. They want to see how good they look on me. If an influencer is eye candy and doesn't mind showing some skin, rich men will spend their money on her.

"You think everyone online is as broke as you are, don't you? Tsk. My audience is full of rich people. They have everything except amusement, and I'm there to fill that gap. Do well, and the tips you get will leave you jaw-dropped."

My jaw already felt close to that point. I stared at her, completely stunned.

She snorted. "You really think you can buy us a house and send Martin to a good school as a deliveryman? Do you think you'll be able to afford private school or college? Trust me, you'll need my job just to make ends meet."

Her words hurt, but she was right. I had been naive.

My paycheck was decent, but it would never cover anything beyond a shoestring budget. My family was nothing special either. I could not ask them for help. Staying afloat in this city had already been difficult. Buying a home and sending Martin to private schools would cost far more.

I hated everything about her argument, but I had to admit she had a point.

Besides… should I really be mad? Victoria might wear something too revealing, but at least she only wore it at home. She was not going out to meet other men, was she? And she wore a mask. No one could tell it was her.

Other men's wives might not even have the figure for this kind of work, but mine did. Mine really was that good.

At least, that was what I told myself to feel a little better as I reluctantly resigned myself to a tense agreement.

Until I saw the "tool" she bought.