On His Terms (The Arrangement Series Book 1) Read online

  “Had I known how much was there I never would have accepted it! It was far too much money—“

  “As I recall, you didn’t accept the money. I believe my boss gave it to you and had to walk away when you tried to give it back repeatedly,” he smirks.

  “Well… yeah I guess I did,” I laugh.

  “What were you doing on break so far from this place anyway?”

  “Oh, I wasn’t on break from here. I work another job… I was only a block or so away from there when you…”

  “Ruined your outfit?”

  “It wasn’t ruined, just wet and dirty,” I point out. “Really it’s fine. It all came out in the wash so it wasn’t a big deal at all. Please thank your boss again for me, I appreciate that you both stopped and didn’t keep driving like most people would have.”

  “Speaking of, I should get going. He has a big meeting this morning where these are needed for. It was nice seeing you again Ms…?”

  “Kenzie… Kenzie Rose.”

  “Take care Ms. Rose—“

  “Wait… do I get to know your name?”

  “Carter,” he replies over his shoulder while walking away.

  It was very unexpected to see Carter here today, but I can’t help but wish it was his boss who came in for the catering order. I don’t know what it is but ever since that day I haven’t been able to get the other man who was with Carter off my mind. Of course he was absolutely gorgeous, but there was something else about him that has kept me from forgetting him. I have no idea who he is but even if I did, I know I would be way out of his league. The car he rode in easily cost more than I pay in yearly rent.

  Plus he had a driver… only people with incredible amounts of money pay for someone to drive them around in their personal car. People like that never give someone like me a second glance; the only time I talk to people with that much money is when I’m dressing them at the department store. It wasn’t that long ago when I shared drinks and meals with those types of people… I cringe at the memory that I allowed to slip into my mind; memories that I’ve tried so hard to keep buried. Besides even if by some miracle he decided to even give me the time of day, I don’t think I could ever trust someone again. If you can’t trust someone completely, what type of relationship can you ever hope to have? I’ve learned what relationships are like without trust and I’d rather spend my life alone then to experience that again.

  “Kenzie, we need more glazed donuts,” Ginny thankfully pulls me from my pity party to remind me that I’m here to work.

  “Coming right up!”

  The rest of the morning is thankfully very busy which doesn’t give me any time to take another unwanted trip down memory lane. Once everything is prepared for the lunch rush, I grab a cup of coffee to go and clock out. Surprisingly I’m not as exhausted as I expected to be by now, so I decide to do a little window shopping before I catch my bus home. I can’t afford very much in this area of high end shops, but I still enjoy window shopping…

  Ring Ring

  “Hello?” I answer my phone nervously as the number on the screen is not one that I recognize. There are only a few people who know my phone number which is how I like to keep it. Since it’s a prepaid cell phone my name isn’t tied to this phone number anywhere that someone can find it. While that should reassure me, I still get very nervous when a number calls that I don’t recognize.

  “Kenzie? This is Bridget,” the voice on the other end says.

  “Bridget? Oh… hi.”

  “Look, I’m sorry to call you but I need to speak with you and was hoping you could meet me later today?”

  “Oh, I’m sorry Bridget but I’m not scheduled to work. I’m sure if you call the store—“

  “I need to speak with you outside the store actually.”

  “I’m sorry?”

  “Can you meet me around four today?”

  “Ummm… I don’t know.”

  “I have a business proposition I want to discuss with you. Meet me for dinner, listen to my offer and if you’re not interested, then no harm done. I promise you that whether or not you accept my offer will have no impact on my account at your store. If you don’t accept my offer, I won’t pull my account or ask for someone else to be assigned to my account if that’s what you’re worried about. You have my word, Kenzie.”

  “Okay… thank you. I suppose I can meet you today, I’m not working this evening.”

  “There’s a Brazilian steakhouse on 7th and Main, do you know it?”

  “I’m familiar with the area, so I’m sure I can find it.”

  “Great, I’ll meet you there at four today. The reservation is in my name.”

  “I’ll see you then.”

  Nicholas:

  “Mr. Parker?”

  “What?” I snap.

  I’m desperately trying to focus on responding to this arrogant ass who has been dicking me around on a decision for the last month. If I don’t concentrate on my response, I’m likely to tell him that he has his head up his ass if he thinks the shares in his company won’t plummet with the announcement of the merger next month.

  “She works there.”

  “Who? Who works there? What are you talking about Carter?”

  Now he’s just pissing me off too. If you’re going to interrupt me at least make it something worth my while; otherwise wait until I’m not fucking busy.

  “Ms. Kenzie Rose.”

  “Carter… seriously what the fuck? What are you fucking talking about? Who the fuck is Kenzie Rose?”

  “The woman from outside the coffee shop… the one we inadvertently drenched during the rain storm.”

  “She… she works at the bakery?” I’m shocked, I never thought we would find her again. I even had Carter and Asher check security cameras in the area but none were able to give us a clear picture of the mystery woman who has haunted my thoughts ever since.

  “Yes, she had prepared the order for today’s meeting. We’re running early if you want to go in—“

  “No, just drive to the office.”

  “Sir?

  “PFS, Carter.”

  I can’t help but glance out the window at the bakery as Carter pulls away. Part of me wants tell him to stop the car so I can go in and meet this Ms. Rose properly. But then her image is in the front of my mind once again and I’m reminded that there’s no way that I could ever be what she wants or needs. I’m reminded that she isn’t the type of woman who is just going to want to fuck me, that she isn’t the type of a woman for a one night stand. I’m not the type of guy who can do anything more than a one night stand or a quick fuck… not again.

  Chapter 5

  Kenzie

  I have no idea what to wear tonight to meet Bridget or even what she wants to meet with me about. I’ve racked my brain over and over again, trying to figure out what she could possibly want to discuss with me outside the store and still can’t seem to find anything that makes sense. Initially I assumed it must have something to do with shopping for her at other locations besides just the department store but then I realized that everything she has pretty much comes from our store.

  I suppose it’s still possible that she wants me to be her personal shopper at other stores but something tells me that’s not the reason she wants to meet with me tonight. I don’t know much about Bridget’s business other than she runs a consultation firm here in the city. I know a little more about her personally: she is married and has no children, is involved in several different charities and attends a ridiculous number of dinners or events regularly. Yet somehow all of that still tells me nothing about a possible reason for her meeting with me tonight.

  I checked the website for the place we are going to meet and it seems like a pretty dressy place which is exactly what I expected of Bridget. I pick out a dress that I’ve worn to work a few times; I doubt that anything else I own would be appropriate for this type of place. The restaurant is located pretty much where I thought it would be, about a four block walk from the nea
rest bus stop that will bring me to the subway line I need but the area it is in is pretty safe so I’m not worried about walking back to the bus stop after our meeting. The menu was posted online as well but no prices were listed, leaving me only to assume that dinner would likely cost half of my paycheck if I were to go there on my own. I take some of the cash I keep hidden in case of emergencies and toss it into my purse in the event that I need to grab a cab or pay for something.

  Before I realize it the afternoon has flown by and I’m on the bus on my way to meet Bridget. My stomach feels like there is a knot in it, whether it’s from nervousness or anxiety, I don’t know. I hope that I know her well enough by now that she will keep her word and that no matter what happens tonight, I won’t lose her as a client. She had said this wouldn’t be an option but I can’t help but worry that it could happen if she doesn’t like my response tonight. It may not be the best job in the world but without it I wouldn’t be able to pay all my rent so I value it for that reason alone.

  Yes I’m sure I could get another job with the experience on my resume should I lose Bridget as a client but I don’t have enough money saved up to go very long without working a second job. If I lost the job, I would probably be at risk of losing my apartment within 30 days. It took me forever to save up enough so I could afford one month’s rent if I lost a job. Ideally I would like to have at least two month’s expenses saved up but I haven’t been able to get to that point yet.

  When the bus stops, I slowly get off and make my way along the busy sidewalk. My stomach feels like a brick is sitting in it and I’m practically shaking with nervousness. I try to calm myself down but I can’t seem to stop my body’s natural reaction. I’m not so much nervous about the actual proposition she has in mind but more so about the consequences if I decline the offer. I try to push those thoughts out of my head and desperately try to find something else to focus on during the short walk to the restaurant.

  “Good evening miss… can I help you?” I’m greeted by an older gentlemen in a suit as soon as I walk into the restaurant.

  “Yes, I’m here to meet with Ms. Wilder, I believe she has—“

  “Ms. Wilder has our private room reserved. Please follow me,” he cuts me off and quickly leads me through the busy restaurant. Despite it being fairly early, I’m surprised at how busy this place is. It seems most people here are having business meetings as there are folders, notepads and laptops at almost every table. I suppose this place was a good option for conducting business dinners… the tables are far enough apart that you wouldn’t feel like someone could eavesdrop into your conversation and the food would surely impress any guest based upon the reviews written online.

  “Ms. Wilder, your guest has arrived,” I am led into a small dining room where Bridget is seated at a table that looks rather large just for the two of us.

  “Kenzie, it’s so nice to see you again,” she stands to greet me as soon as I walk in.

  “Thank you Bridget, it’s nice to see you too.”

  “The waiter will be in shortly with your meals.”

  “I hope you don’t mind, I took the liberty of ordering for both of us so we can focus our time on discussing business. The food here is delicious but if you don’t like what I ordered please let me know. The chef will make anything you want, even if it’s not on the menu.”

  “I’m sure whatever you ordered will be fine Bridget, I’m not a very picky eater,” I assure her.

  “While we wait for our food, I need to ask you to sign this,” she hands me a folder with what appears to be a legal document in it.

  “What is this?” I ask.

  “It’s called a non-disclosure agreement, an NDA. Please read through it carefully. I want you to understand what you are signing. Essentially by signing this document you agree to keep anything we discuss here between the two of us. You cannot go home and tell your roommate about this discussion—“

  “I live alone so you don’t have to worry about that.” It would be much easier if I had a roommate, financially speaking of course. The idea of living with someone, sharing my space with them… I just couldn’t do it. I couldn’t trust someone that much.

  “It also means you can’t talk to anyone about this at the store what we discuss tonight.”

  “I understand.”

  I spend the next few minutes reviewing the NDA which seems pretty straight forward. It basically outlines what Bridget has already mentioned; essentially I can’t discuss anything we talk about with anyone. The NDA also warns that I can be sued if I discuss the contents of this meeting with someone, especially if the information is then leaked to the media. My curiosity is peaked even more as I wonder what Bridget could want to discuss that would require such a high level of confidentiality. Immediately I toss out the idea that she wants me to be a personal shopper for her at other stores, not that it was a very good idea to begin with.

  A waiter quietly brings in our salads and entrees, setting them in front of us before Bridget nods, dismissing him. She pours us each a glass of wine from the bottle that has been opened and is on the table with us. I take a deep breath and sign the NDA, closing the folder before taking a sip of the wine she just poured. I haven’t had a glass of wine or really anything containing alcohol in the last year and a half; not that I haven’t often wanted something but more because I was focused so much on saving money and just surviving.

  “Do you mind if we discuss things while we eat? I’ve had a busy day and ended up missing lunch today so I’m famished,” Bridget asks.

  “I don’t mind at all.” I’m secretly relieved because I’d rather get the reason for this meeting out in the open than dragging it on much longer.

  “Kenzie, I want you to keep an open mind with what I’m about to offer you,” she warns and I can’t help but nod in agreement as the anxiety in me rises even higher. “As you know, I run a very successful consulting firm here in New York. What you don’t know is what my services entail. I work with very successful business men and women across the tri-state area who, because of their busy lives, find dating to be either undesirable or something they don’t have time for. This is where I come in: I set them up with men and women who match the qualities they are looking for.”

  “Like a match maker?” I ask completely surprised.

  “Sort of… I suppose you could call me a match maker. However, unlike most match making services out there, my ultimate goal is often not about wedding bells and happily ever after. That doesn’t mean that some of my clients haven’t ended up married, of course, but the primary objective of the match is not compatibility for life.”

  “I’m sorry. I’m a little confused. If you’re not looking for a husband or wife for someone, what’s the point in the match?”

  “Company, companionship and sometimes even friendship - what most people want out of life. The people I work with are very successful individuals in their respective industries. Often times they work 60, 70 even 90 hours per week with little to no time for their personal lives. They have sacrificed those personal lives for their success and this is something they accepted long ago.

  “However, sometimes they just want to go to dinner with a lovely woman and have a conversation that doesn’t revolve around the stock market or the latest merger. They don’t want any type of commitment and because of their success, they always worry that someone is only with them for money so they never trust anyone completely. I pair them with someone that I think they have something in common with or that I think would be a good match for them. The two have dinner, go to a play, see a movie or more often than not go to social events together. You would be surprised how many business deals are ironed out over social events with husbands and wives present.”

  “I’m actually not as surprised as you would think,” I mumble aloud.

  “Oh?” she asks but when I don’t comment she continues. “I’ve known you for more than a year now so I’d like to think I know the qualities you possess. I am confident that you would
be a good match with several of the men, or women if you prefer, that I work with. I would like to offer you the opportunity to join my consulting firm.”

  “Ummmm… this is a lot to take in. Can I ask you a few questions?”

  “Of course, ask anything you want. You’ve signed the NDA so I feel comfortable speaking freely with you about this.”

  “What exactly is expected on a date?” I ask cringing at the word date. Can you even call it a date if you are being paid to be there and the person is paying for your service?

  “It depends on the context. Assuming it’s not a business-social event, think of it like two friends going out together. You eat, chat about whatever you want: sports, the weather, aspirations in life… really anything. If you are accompanying someone in a business-social situation, you would likely have met the person ahead of time and he would have outlined what he was looking for at that event. Usually they need you to play the doting girlfriend role: hold hands, maybe dance if the event calls for it, and just make small talk with the other guests. They will have briefed you ahead of time on the key players and given you their opinions on business or political topics.”

  “How long do these… arrangements typically last?”

  “I have some staff who have been meeting with the same client for years now. The press, without a doubt, assumes they are a couple but in reality they only see each other for business events and the occasional dinner beforehand. I have other clients who will ask for someone to go to dinner with once every few months when they are in town traveling for business. It really depends on the client and how well they click with my staff.”

  “What about… physical contact? Is that an expectation—“

  “Absolutely not!” Bridget slams her hand down on the table between us. “I do not run a prostitution ring, Kenzie! Beyond holding hands, any physical contact is limited: a hand on the small of your back when you walk into the room, an arm around your waist when discussing something with another couple, etc… At most, a kiss on the cheek at the end of the evening. There is nothing beyond that—it is spelled out in the contract all clients and employees sign stating their will be no intimate contact between the two parties unless they both terminate their contract with my firm.”