The Arrangement Duet Box Set Page 7

  “I hadn’t considered business trips. I suppose that’s something I would be willing to consider later, but I think other than those, I would prefer meetings to occur in public places.”

  “Perfectly understandable.”

  “How much control do I have?”

  “You have complete control. You may decline a request once it’s presented to you. You can terminate the contract at any point and walk away without any repercussions. I will not force you to go on a date or to a social event; you need to decide if the person requested your company is a potential match for you in a social situation. You have the final say.”

  “What are my options if something goes wrong during a date?”

  “I am available at all times to both my clients and my staff. I have never received a call that something was wrong on a date or that the client acted inappropriately. But in the event something like that does happen, you simply call me and I will handle the situation, even if it means I come to where you are.”

  “Good.”

  “What other questions do you have?”

  “I don’t want clients knowing where I live; I prefer to have that private—“

  “Clients are not given your address, phone number, and key information is blacked out of your background check that is given to them. Typically, both parties agree to meet at a certain location, sometimes it’s even my office if it is an event that the client wants to arrive with the date to. They will not pick you up at home or drop you off there at the end of the evening. Not only does it protect your privacy, but it saves the chance of lines getting blurred, especially at the end of the night.”

  “Thank you. I appreciate you settling my fears. When we met, you mentioned that some of your staff are only working for you and not working other jobs. I’m trying to wrap my head around the financial aspect of this now that you answered my questions about safety. To be honest, Bridget, I need to know if this is something I can steadily rely on to pay my rent every month or if this is something that will provide me only with spending money.”

  “That makes sense, especially given what I know about your current financial situation.” Why do I get the feeling her background check likely included my bank account balances? “Let me put it this way, I have a long waiting list of potential clients—more than I can accept right now because I don’t have enough staff. Staff decide how many events or dates they want to attend per week, some decide to only attend one and some attend two to three. It also depends on the requests; some of my clients have a standing arrangement with a staff member in that they request that staff for every event they attend. Many of those staff average two events per week, often bringing in close to five thousand dollars a month depending on the type of event. What it boils down to Kenzie, is how much you earn and how often you work is complete up to you. For some staff, this is simply spending money to pay off a few bills. For others, though, this is how they pay all their bills. What is it you want?”

  “I don’t know,” I admit honestly. “I like the idea of not working so many long hours, but I’m nervous to suddenly give it all up. I enjoy the bakery where I work, and I could probably continue working there while I figure this out. If I signed the contract, though, I don’t think I could continue working at the store. I think it would be awkward to dress men and women who are essentially my coworkers or men who I could end up on a date with. However, giving that job up is a little frightening to me.”

  “Understandably so. I don’t normally do this, but I’ll make you a deal. If you sign a contract with me and then find it isn’t for you for whatever reason, I will give you a glowing recommendation at one of the many stores I have accounts with or companies I do business with. I will guarantee you a job within two weeks of you terminating your contract with me.”

  “Why would you do that?”

  “I want to help you. I can tell you haven’t had an easy life and for whatever reason, you don’t trust easily. You remind me of myself when I was younger, and I guess that makes me want to see you succeed. I promise if this doesn’t work out for whatever reason, I will ensure you have a job and are not left on the street. Why don’t you try one dinner date with a client and see how it goes? If you decide after that date it isn’t for you, we terminate the contract and never look back. If you decide this isn’t as scary as the thoughts going through your head right now, then I will show your profile to other clients for potential dates. What do you say?”

  “One date... I... I suppose I can agree to that.”

  “Good, I really think you will see this isn’t as bad as you are thinking, Kenzie. What other questions do you have?”

  “How will I not be tied back to your company? I mean, if I’m photographed with a date and the press runs a background check on me, won’t they see that I’m on your payroll?”

  “They might. However, if they look into my company, they will see that we are a consultation firm working with large and small companies across the state. You will be listed as a consultant, which is a very broad title. In all the years since I started this company up, I’ve never had a reporter question exactly what it is someone does for me or what exactly consultation services we provide.”

  We talk for another hour or so as we finish our lunch, and at the end, I have decided to stick to our agreement and try one date through Bridget, figuring I don’t have much to lose. I won’t quit one of my jobs until I’m sure this is going to work out.

  “Thank you again for squeezing me in, Bridget, and for answering my many questions. I appreciate the time you took.”

  “I have to admit, I was surprised to hear from you. I was worried I scared you off with the contract the other night. I’m glad that wasn’t the case and that you decided to give this a chance. I don’t think you’re going to regret it. I’ll be in touch soon with a potential dinner scheduled and a profile for you to approve.”

  The next few days go by slowly; the electricity remains off in my building, but I hardly notice because I end up working even more hours than originally scheduled. Bathing is the most inconvenience of all: while I have water in my apartment, I don’t have hot water. I wash my hair using gallons of water that I let get to room temperature before using. It’s better than trying to shampoo my hair in the shower, which now lasts less than a minute as I quickly wash before I freeze too much. I’m getting tired of eating tuna fish sandwiches for meals, but I would live with it if it meant being able to take a hot shower again. I think the longest we went without electricity was nine days—if it doesn’t go longer this time, it should be turned back on in the next few days.

  Chapter 8

  Nicholas

  “Mr. Parker, may I have a moment?” Melody knocks on my door.

  “Quickly.”

  “I have a Mrs. Bridget Wilder on the line requesting a meeting with you to discuss an upcoming charity gala you are attending, how would you like me to handle the call, sir?”

  “Bridget Wilder?” I pause, surprised that she would be calling to request a meeting with me. “I believe she sits on the board with my mother for the charity; she probably wants to solicit a donation for the event. Squeeze her in where you can but for no more than half an hour. I don’t want to get trapped listening to how much some charity needs my donation for hours on end.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Usually my mother handles the requests for this charity since she’s on the board, but I know she has been very busy lately with another one that she’s trying to raise money for. I think it’s odd that Bridget would request a personal meeting with me to discuss the donation though, typically a phone is all that is needed, given that I regularly donate to most of the charities my mother is sitting on the board for, including the one that I am scheduled to attend next.

  My thoughts are quickly diverted as my outlook calendar alerts me to another meeting that is starting in a few minutes in the boardroom. My day is filled with meetings, conference calls, and reviewing reports just like every other day. I love what I do;
I love analyzing trends in the market, helping companies succeed, and even trying to predict what the market will do next. As is the case most days, before I know it, the sun has set and I’m the last person in the building besides Carter. I leave PFS, return home for a late dinner, and then spend a few more hours in my office. This routine is what my life consists of lately; the only change is when I have an event or business dinner to attend. It may seem boring, but the long hours are what have made PFS the success that it is. It wouldn’t be anywhere near as successful if I only worked the typical eight-hour day that most employees in America work. Instead, I average ten to twelve hours in the office each day, plus another three to five at home.

  As is the case most nights, sleep doesn’t come easy for me. When I finally manage to fall asleep, I find my thoughts focusing on the beautiful brunette with the stunning eyes Carter and I met on the street months ago. Only this time, I don’t picture her as she was that day on the sidewalk, instead she is standing naked in front of me, her hands bound behind her back with a simple red piece of silk. She’s waiting for me, her body is calling out, begging for my touch. Her nipples are hardened as the anticipation of what is about to happen arouses her even further.

  I take a step toward her, not able to keep myself from touching her for another moment, but the space between us increases. Another step towards her, yet she is further away than she was moments ago. I quickly take three steps forward, my hand reaching out to touch her, but again she remains just out of reach. Frustrated, I run to her, but this time she completely disappears and I’m left standing in a cold dark room with a dirty mattress on the floor in the corner of the room.

  It’s nearly three in the morning, and I find myself wide awake. I contemplate going for a run, but I really don’t want to wake Carter up. I shouldn’t give a fuck… I pay him to be available when I need him, but even I’m not that cold hearted to wake him up in the middle of the night and pull him from the warm bed he shares with his woman.

  I’ve never experienced what he has—I’ve never slept in the same bed with a woman. My nightmares have always prevented me from being able to do that. I remember once when I was little, my parents took us somewhere… to this day I can’t remember where we were going or why, but we were in a hotel room and Austin and I had to share a bed because there were only two beds in the room with my parents taking the other one. I don’t remember the nightmare that night and can only assume it’s a variation of the one I have every night. What I do remember is waking up to find Austin wrapped in my mom’s arms crying and my dad rushing into the room with a bag of ice.

  Apparently, during my nightmare, I had given him a black eye and nearly broke his nose when he tried to wake me up. Both of my parents were quick to tell me that it wasn’t my fault and Austin forgot what happened, instead making up stories that he would later tell his friends about how he was injured. I have never forgotten that day or the way my parents looked at me when I woke up. They weren’t angry, but their eyes were filled with pity though. Since that day, I have vowed to never give them a reason to look at me like that again. That was the last time I ever slept in the same bed with someone. Every trip after that, my parents made sure to reserve a room with an extra pull out bed or a rollaway for me.

  “I’d like to leave in ten minutes for a run,” I notify Carter a little before five, which is what I have decided is an okay time to wake him.

  “Yes sir, I’m ready when you are,” he responds quickly, obviously knowing my preference for early morning runs.

  Our run pattern varies from day to day; Carter insists that I don’t run the same route regularly, as he is afraid it puts me at risk. Any pattern we take has us running past Sweet Dreams Bakery recently. Carter started this after he learned who the beautiful woman was that we inadvertently drenched and where she works. I haven’t gone into the bakery, but I find myself glancing at the window every day hoping to get a glimpse of her. A few times I have seen her at the register, other times she either isn’t working or is in the back.

  Carter purposely slows down when we approach the bakery knowing that I’m going to look for her but he doesn’t say anything. It’s one of the things I appreciate the most about him: He keeps his opinions to himself unless I specifically ask him about it. Like now, as I barely get a glimpse of her brunette hair through the window of the bakery, I’m sure Carter is wondering what the hell is wrong with me and why I don’t just go inside. We would have a convenient excuse for going in: we could need bottled water, a cup of coffee or even breakfast, but of course we never go in.

  I don’t know anything about her, but I know I could never be what she needs. The way she looked at me that day with her big, innocent brown eyes, I knew that I was no good for her. She is the type of woman who wants to bring a guy home to her parents, who wants and expects to be romanced by a guy, and one who expects long-term commitments when she goes out. She wants everything I can never give her. The only thing I can offer her is a fantastic, hard fuck one night, and maybe a call when I need a release again. One look at her and I know that she would never settle for something like that, so why even bother?

  “Sir?” Carter pulls me from my thoughts when we somehow end up back in the foyer of the condo. How we ended up here, I have no clue. Apparently, I let my thoughts of Ms. Rose distract me for the last three miles of our run.

  “We’ll leave for PFS in twenty. Can you ask Julie to have my breakfast ready in ten?” I request.

  A quick shower and even quicker breakfast has me at PFS long before most of my employees. I’m typically the first person here but every so often someone will beat me to it, like today. Alex works nearly as hard as I do, putting in close to the same number of hours I do at PFS. Minutes after I arrive, he barges into my office, setting a cup of coffee in front of me before he sits down. We don’t have a standing appointment, but this has been our routine for the last year or two when we are both in the office at the same time.

  “You did it again, Parker,” he sighs.

  “Who did I piss off this time?”

  “No one in particular… except a few reporters.” He tosses the latest gossip magazine on my desk.

  “UGH… what bullshit is it this time?”

  “You’re on page three.”

  I thumb through the first few pages before I find a picture of myself taken just two nights ago at a benefit at the local children’s hospital. The headline reads “What is the billionaire playboy hiding?” I quickly skim the story speculating yet again that I am hiding something related to my sexuality, which is the reason I can’t keep a woman. The reporter goes further than most, hinting that my last relationship with her was simply a façade designed to keep the dogs off my trail so I can keep my secret hidden. While she provided no comment to the press regarding our relationship, the reporter goes so far to state it is because I must have bought her silence, likely coming with a hefty price tag since she has refused to comment on anything after our breakup more than two years ago.

  “Damned if I do, damned if I don’t,” I sigh in frustration.

  “We need to discuss the shipping company.” He quickly recognizes that I’m done discussing this garbage. “I’m hitting a brick wall with them; I think they might respond better to you. Maybe you can set up a dinner or something to wine and dine them? We’ve been at a stalemate for the last couple of weeks over this, they always seem to respond better to you—“

  “I’ll call them, and if they are agreeable, I’ll have Melody arrange something at The Summit in a couple of weeks. I want you there though; you were responsible for bringing it this far, just because they want to be a pain in the ass at the end doesn’t mean your work isn’t recognized. I want it known to them that you were responsible for everything until this point.”

  “Thank… thank you Nicholas. I appreciate that.” He is clearly surprised—I don’t give out compliments often, but in this case, Alex has done everything, including going above and beyond what they have asked for.

 
; “I’ll read this over, but I’m sure you have everything aligned.”

  “Mr. Parker, your eight o’clock is here,” Melody interrupts us a short time later.

  “Let me know if you need anything else,” Alex says as he leaves my office.

  “Mrs. Wilder, it’s nice to see you again,” I greet her as Melody closes the door.

  “It’s Bridget, but it’s nice to see you as well, Nicholas.” She shakes my offered hand before sitting in the gestured chair.

  Since we were old enough to understand, my mother has brought us to various charity events and insisted that we find ways to give back to the community. Since I’m usually too busy, my giving back tends to be in the way of a large donation check. My parents organize various events, even hosting a few at their house. I’ve known Bridget for several years through those events and meetings with my mother.

  “I understand you wanted to talk with me about a donation for the New Beginnings Gala next weekend? I’ve already confirmed my donation with my mother, but if there is something else that you need—“

  “Actually, this isn’t about that gala at all.” She hands me a folder, and when I open it, I see if contains a non-disclosure agreement. My interest is immediately sparked as to what Bridget could want to discuss that would require we both sign an NDA. I quickly review the document, which is pretty standard, and then present her with one of my own NDAs. Although these are usually reciprocal, I don’t take anything for granted, and insist that whenever I sign an NDA, the other party signs one of mine as well.

  “Now that we have that out of the way, what’s this meeting really about, Bridget?” I ask.

  “I’ve seen the tabloids and the numerous articles written about you, Nicholas.” I cringe. “I’ve known you long enough that I don’t believe any of the things that have been written about you. I know the constant focus on your personal life must be getting to you, and I’d like to offer a possible solution.”

  “I’m listening.”