Chapter 3
Abigail
“A month. Five hundred thousand to live in Townstead’s penthouse mansion in Manhattan and attend all that fancy shit with him? Wow.” My roommate Carrie bunched her red curls up onto the top of her head and squealed, releasing her hair so it fell back to her shoulders. “That is so exciting. Oh god, you’re such a lucky bitch! And you get a mil if you don’t fall in love with him?”
“Apparently.” I stared into my small open closet. There really was no way to pack for this coming month. And I still had to pack up my daughter and let her know the good news. I’d decided that it was going to be sold to her as a fun vacation.
“Was he for real?”
“I think so. He’s going to have a contract for me to sign and the whole bit. On a different note, I don’t have a clue what to take with me.”
“Take a couple of suitcases and if you need more stuff than drop by and pick it up. You’re not going to the other side of the country.”
“Yeah, I know.” Though it wasn’t the clothing that was bothering me, it was the situation I was putting myself and Isabella in. A chance of getting hurt – again. A big chance. But I could always leave. Anytime I wanted, I could leave and still be five hundred thousand richer for the effort.
Ding-dong.
“I’ll get it. Just grab anything, Abigail. You always overthink things, don’t overthink this.”
“I guess.” I didn’t look back at the sound of her retreating footsteps. Instead, I took a deep breath and grabbed an armful of clothing from the closet, not even looking at what I held, and carried it to the bed, placing it next to the open suitcase.
The door was opened and the murmur of voices came from behind me. A moment later, my roommate was calling out to me. “Abby, we need you out here.”
“We?” I groaned out load. I needed to get this figured out, I didn’t need distractions right now.
“Abby?”
I sighed. “I’m coming.” The clothing selection could wait. Carrie was right, our place was only a twenty-minute train ride from Mr. Townstead’s place. Which brought about another question: did I continue to call him Mr. Townstead, or call him Devon? I’d assume Devon, considering the circumstances.
Lifting my head, I turned and a little gasp escaped my lips as my eyes landed on Devon in the flesh and oh shit, in my dingy little apartment! I was his maid and my house was a disorganized mess. Isabella’s toys littered the living room. She was currently in gymnastics day camp. It wasn’t something I could afford, but I’d saved up enough to send her there for the next couple of months.
“Hope I’m not intruding, but I wanted to get the contract and official business all taken care of so we can get on with the more pleasurable part of our deal.”
“I, umm.” I guess the whole situation really was real and not some sort of joke. Him standing in the doorway of my bedroom was proof of that. A part of me kept thinking yesterday had been my imagination. But it hadn’t.
His gaze shifted from me to the bed piled with clothing. I turned, following his gaze. Throwing my hands up in the air, I admitted, “I don’t know how to pack for this.”
“By all means, naked works.”
I turned back and rolled my eyes at him. “Sex wasn’t required as per our amended agreement, remember?”
“You can be naked without us having sex.” He rubbed his chin with his left hand. “Perhaps I should modify the contract to say clothing not allowed. I might fully enjoy that.”
Smirking at him, I responded, “But wouldn’t that take away from the fun of the pursuit? Besides, we’ll have a child in the house.”
His smug smile faded a bit. “When you’re right, you’re right. We’ll stick with the original agreement. My lawyer is in the kitchen with your roommate, waiting on us.”
Wow, this wasn’t some figment of my imagination. It was actually happening. Walking past him, I got a whiff of his cologne, and immediately flashed to the kiss from earlier. Fuck, this was going to be torture. But someone had to beat this man down a peg. Maybe having a lady not fall over him would give the man a new appreciation for women.
It wasn’t just about the money; there were more to it than that. The money was a bonus that would change not just my life, but Isabella’s future. I wouldn’t have to worry about adding the stress of a full-time job with school. Isabella could go to a better school. Heck, we could move to a better area. It could be the start of an entirely different life.
He grabbed hold of my upper arm, stopping me in the doorway. “Not to take away from how you look in your uniform, but you look beautiful today.”
I looked down at myself. In all the excitement, I hadn’t even considered what I had on – which wasn’t much. A pair of men’s red plaid boxers and a form fitting black tank top. Groaning inwardly, I looked up at him to see if he was joking or serious. By the hungry look in his eyes as he stared down at me, I realized he was indeed serious. His gaze sent a shiver through me, and I found myself thankful that I was wearing a padded bra, otherwise my tightening nipples would be poking through.
“Thanks.” I smiled up at him, but it was a nervous smile at best. I hadn’t factored in that he’d be turning up the charm. Or maybe this was just him naturally, no dialling up anything – if that was the case, I was in serious trouble.
Used condoms under the pillows. Sex toys on the floor. I forced the things that used to annoy the living shit out of me about him into my mind. It worked; my smile faded and I regarded him with narrowed eyes. With a concluding ‘humph,’ I spun on my heel and headed into the living room.
~*~ TT ~*~
Devon
I don’t think a pair of men’s flannel boxer shorts ever looked so good. Her ass was a nice, round bubble shape that bounced with each step. Not tidal wave bouncing, but enough jiggle that it made me want to grab those ass cheeks, bend her over the bed, yank those boxer briefs down, and fuck her senseless.
Don’t even get me started on those amazing tits. Most of the breasts I encountered had been altered in one way or another. Hers were a natural C cup with lots of life. How long before I’d be able to break through her curtain of hostility towards me so I could indulge in them?
At first, I had no intention of playing the game with her and turning up the charm. I was just going to revel in the fact she would eventually come to me. But I honestly didn’t know if I’d be able to wait her out. I needed to put more effort into seduction, if for no other reason than to get between her creamy thighs a lot sooner than it would take normally.
A month without a woman. Fuck, that would be insanity. This was supposed to be a fun challenge for me, but what if I failed? I hadn’t considered that option until she hit me with the dirty look of the century a moment ago.
Entering the small kitchen, I saw my lawyer was already going through the details of the contract, while Abigail and her roommate added their thoughts here and there. It hadn’t taken long to come up with the terms of the contact, but seeing the length of it, you’d have thought I’d prepared ahead of time. However, my lawyer had been up late into the night drawing up what he felt was a sketchy contract at best, illegal and non-binding at worst. My response was simple: he wasn’t getting paid to judge, it was his job to do what he was told. I had no intention of explaining myself and my motivation to anyone.
As they continued to go through the contact, I acquainted myself with the tiny apartment. There appeared to be two small bedrooms and a kitchen that had just enough room to accommodate a two-person table. I could only assume then that the glass coffee table in front of the blue plush sofa substituted for a kitchen table when both women and the little one were present. I was slightly disappointed that her daughter wasn’t around, I was curious to know what I’d be dealing with. I knew a lot about a lot of topics, being that I wasn’t just involved in real estate, but I liked to dabble in financing start up businesses from restaurants to daycares to general products, but one thing I failed at was knowledge of children.
If this was the type of home the kid was accustomed to, moving in with me for a month would be a serious culture shock for the child. The more that I thought about it, the more I realized it would be the same for me. She’d probably adjust quickly, as children generally do.
We’d see about me.
I hadn’t grown up rich. I came from a family of a single mother and three younger siblings. I remembered how my mother would play Russian roulette with the bills. We were never sure which utility would be shut off, and each day would be a ‘hold your breath and see’ waiting game.
Walking to the window doubling as an emergency exit, I thrust my hands into the pockets of my black slacks and stared out into the alleyway. We’d left the office and headed straight here, so I was still sporting my normal office attire.
As I stared out into the ally, watching a scraggly grey cat poking around behind a garbage can, my mind shifted back to memories of my days growing up. I’d eaten my share of food bank soup on more than one occasion, usually cold, with candlelight illuminating our scummy Bronx apartment.
But I didn’t regret my past; that was what made me strive for excellence and to be the best. I was the man I was today because of what I went through as a child and teenager. As much as I love winning, if I were to lose this bet it wouldn’t bother me, not really. I had a feeling that the money would go a long way to helping Abigail and her child. It was a winning situation for both of us - that’s what I told myself anyhow. What could go wrong?
“It looks like we’re about done here, Mr. Townstead. We are just needing your signature and then it’ll be official.”
“Of course.” I walked over to the trio and accepted the pen from my lawyer’s outstretched hand. I didn’t even look at the contact before signing; I’d already gone through it earlier this morning. Quickly, I scrawled my signature on the X’s line, my gaze locking with Abigail’s. She looked nervous – overwhelmed. Poor thing.
I gave her a smile and was pleased to see that she returned the grin. “It’s going to be a pleasure doing business with you, Miss Whitney.”
Her smile faded and I watched her gulp.
My grin widened.
Damn, this was going to be a helluva lot of fun.
~*~ TT ~*~
Abigail
It was as though I was seeing the penthouse for the very first time when I walked into his place, pulling a large suitcase along. Devon was behind me with a second and third suitcase of equal size. He’d assured me two for myself and one for Isabella would be enough, and if we needed more we could go shopping. He’d also promised that no matter the occasion, if I didn’t have the proper attire we would get it.
Which led me to my next concern: was he planning on dragging me along to all the fancy affairs he attended? He wore a tux to usually two occasions a month; I knew this because I was the one getting them dry cleaned and/or putting it away the next day. What in the hell would I have to talk to those people about? Some of the richest and elite of the elite would be there. What would I say if they asked about my career? Tell them I was the maid, a single mom living with a roommate in a sketchy Bronx apartment?
I stood inside the doorway and felt the beginnings of the first and only panic attack of my life. This was stupid, this was insane. I was in over my head.
Ohmygod, ohmygod, ohmygod.
“I give, what’s the problem? You look lost.”
I looked up at the voice and into Devon’s eyes. My god, the man was sex on two legs. As much as I bitched about how inconsiderate he was and what a dog he happened to be when it came to women, I couldn’t deny the draw I felt. I wanted him. But just because I wanted him didn’t mean I had to do anything stupid.
“I can’t do this.” I attempted to rush past him, but he stood in the way, blocking my path and escape.
“You can and will.”
“You can’t force me to stay here. I’m a mother, I have responsibilities.”
“I have a signed legal contract that says otherwise. And I’m sure Isabella will love it here. You’ll have problems convincing her to go home.”
Looking up into his eyes, I wasn’t sure if he would attempt to stop me if I insisted on leaving or not. My eyes narrowed as I studied his face, attempting to figure it out for myself. His expression was a blank slate, not offering any answers.
“Besides, we have an event to go to later tonight. It’s a two-thousand-dollars-a-plate meal, and your spot is already paid for.”
“So, are you saying that obligates me?”
“Is there any other way for you to see it? You signed a contract, period. But rest assured, I already have one of the best nannies in the city lined up to take care of Isabella.”
He said it with such a straight face that I laughed, I actually laughed. Closing my eyes, I inhaled deeply and slowly exhaled, opening my eyes as I released the breath.
He was right. I’d agreed to this crazy situation, and it was time to pay the piper. We were his roommates for a month, in a beautiful two-story penthouse overlooking Central Park – life could be a lot worse. And with so much space, Isabella would love living here. But eventually, reality would hit and we’d go back to living our regular, humble lives.
I guess I’d have to deal with that when the time came.
As far as attending the fancy dinner and such with him – I could fake it. Besides, Devon was the person of interest, and I would simply be part of the background. I’d be lucky to be even noticed.
Forcing a smile to my lips, I nodded and retreated into the foyer. “You’re right. A deal is a deal.”
“Great. We need to get you settled in because the personal shopper from Bloomingdales will be here in an hour to get your measurements and then bring back an assortment of gowns to suit the occasion.”