Epilogue
Daisy
“I don’t know if I can do this,” I said, taking a deep breath.
Ian squeezed my shoulders. “Of course you can,” he said. “You’re going to be great.”
I took another deep breath and tried to ignore the knots in my stomach. Everything seemed so surreal. I was about to walk out on stage, in front of a (large) group of people, and give a talk, as part of the TEDxBoston conference. My book, You’ve Got This: Overcoming the Quarter-Life Crisis, about my quarter-life crisis, had come out a few months ago and gotten some really good reviews in some very important places, and suddenly, it seemed, everyone thought that I had something important to say. And it had all started with that article I’d written at my mother’s encouragement, which, once posted on the blog, had been liked, retweeted, and favorited tens of thousands of times. Subsequent essays I’d written had later been compiled, and I’d written a few more to round out what had turned into a best-selling book you could now find in the personal development section.
Ian kept his hands on my shoulders, massaging them lightly. “I am so proud of you,” he said.
I took another deep breath and felt my anxiety quell a bit at the sound of his voice. “Thanks.”
People that I didn’t even know were hailing me as an expert on my generation, despite the fact that I felt like I still knew nothing. I mean, all I had done really, was written a book—and a rather short one at that—about my experience. I spoke about it candidly, and didn’t sugar-coat anything, and ultimately, I guess I found my happy ending, because Ian and I were still together, because I’d put my college degree to use, because I finally felt a measure of contentedness with my life that I hadn’t before.
So that made people believe I somehow had answers that could help them, too. The idea that I was helping people made me feel good, even though it seemed crazy that I would be someone people would turn to for advice like this.
Even my mother had been begrudgingly happy for me, despite the fact that the deal for her own book had fallen through and she was currently looking for a publisher.
“And after your book signing, I’m going to take you out to celebrate, and then we’ll go pick up Aaron.”
I smiled, thinking about Aaron, who was almost two now. We picked him up Saturday afternoon, and he stayed with us until Monday morning. He was definitely not the handful that everyone told me he was going to be once he was a toddler. He was actually really fun to be around, and I enjoyed the time he was with us. Even though Ian and I weren’t married, I’d settled into the role of step-mother much more easily than I thought I would have. Eventually, I knew, Ian and I would tie the knot, but for now, living together and learning how to be parents to Aaron was good enough for the both of us. And maybe, some day, Ian and I would have a kid of our own, but there was still plenty of time for that.
Right now, I had a talk to give.
Ian leaned down and gave me a kiss. “You’re going to be great,” he said. “I love you.”
I kissed him back. “I love you, too.” Then I took a deep breath and stepped out onto the stage.
That’s the end of the Boss’s Virgin. Below I included 5 of our previous books to read as a free bonus.
The Boss Box Set
The Complete Boss Romance Series
By Claire Adams
This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places and incidents are products of the writer's imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locales or organizations is entirely coincidental.
Copyright © 2015 Claire Adams
THE BOSS #1
CHAPTER 1
ARIA
I wasn’t quite sure what to do with the heartfelt and endlessly awkward confession of romantic allegiance that one of my customers was currently delivering. Would he notice if I stealthily put my headphones on?
On a normal day, I let men down easy. An eight-hour shift at the bank immediately following forty-eight hours of no sleep and two very difficult midterms does not constitute a normal day. I squinted at the gentleman in front of me, who seemed mesmerized by the palms of his hands based on the way he was staring at them. Mitch? Mark?
“And, you know, I come here, like, every day at the same time because, you know, like, that’s when your shift is,” he was mumbling, eyes firmly on his palm. “Sometimes I, like, just come and deposit some cash only to withdraw it the very next day for no other reason other than to see you.”
Really? I could have never guessed. It’s pretty normal for people around here to make daily deposits and withdrawals of exactly $200 without fail for a whole month. Moron.
“Listen,” I said finally. He looked up and made eye-contact just for a split second—long enough for me to notice the droplets on his horn-rimmed glasses. Sweat? Oh God. “I am really flattered but-”
“But girls like you don’t go out with guys like me.” I could almost hear the whimper in his voice now. “I get it.”
Shit.
“No no no no! I’m engaged,” I blurted without thinking. “To – to…” Surveying the room frantically, I pointed at the only logical direction, cringing with fear and embarrassment at the thought that this interaction might have an audience. “To him. My boss. He is very possessive so you should be careful. He owns the bank and he is well connected. If he learns of this he has the power to ruin your credit, and believe me, he will do it. You should find a different branch to go to from now on to be safe – switch banks even if you have to! It’s in your best interest.”
The man I was pointing at flashed a crooked smile, his eyes firmly rested on his computer, and I felt my chest fall. Don’t be silly Aria, there is no way he can hear you. He was at least fifty feet across the hall, inside his office behind a solid glass door. He would have to have superhuman hearing abilities to be able to hear this conversation. Although, it would hardly surprise me if he did possess such a skill; almost everything about Zayden Sinclair was a notch above the average human.
At thirty-two he was the owner and CEO of the Southern National Bank empire, but you didn’t need to know about his economic stature to feel the power that he exuded through sheer physical presence. He had the tendency to command the attention of anybody within a five-mile-radius without so much as saying a word. Women of all ages gravitated towards him, and his dashing looks and defined physique were only partially responsible for the effect. In fact, dashing did not begin to accurately describe his rare combination of piercing blue eyes, perfectly chiseled jawline, and dark, wavy hair straight out of a men’s shampoo commercial. Sometimes I could swear I saw his six-packs defined through his shirt, or even his sweater. Maybe my imagination interfered at that point.
And my imagination is where Zayden’s shirtless body should remain. I had seen too many girls fall prey to his charms and had no interest in losing the job that kept me in college just because I couldn’t control the desire to touch whatever was underneath that shirt. This branch went through tellers faster than the days of the week, and I wasn’t going to become a number in the statistical chart of Zayden’s conquests.
***
Half an hour later I was thankful for the clock to indicate it was my lunch break. After my admiring customer left holding back tears, there was a sudden stream of traffic in the teller’s booth, and I had to deal with an old woman who accused the bank of stealing from her. It shouldn’t be that difficult to convince somebody that a multi-million dollar corporation would gain nothing from robbing an old lady of fifty bucks.
I was relieved to find that the pantry in the back end of the bank was empty. Normally I enjoy some commotion but today I was just really tired, mentally and physically. And hungry. I hadn’t realized how hungry I was. I sat down on the first table looking away from the door and removed the box of leftover sushi from my bag. Before I could open it, however, I heard a very familiar voice.
“So when’s our wedding?”
Shit. I could hear the thudding sound of my chest as though it were adjacent to my ears. It must have been a whole minute before I gathered the courage to slowly turn around, ignoring the chills in my fingers.
“You heard that?” I laughed. Thank you Acting 101 Gen-Ed requirements. “Spying on your tellers now? The NSA would be so proud.”
Zayden’s lips crooked very slightly. Was that a smile? Was he amused? Angry? Oh God, I really couldn’t tell.
“We keep a microphone at the tellers’ booth in every branch for surveillance, in case there is any suspicious activity from a customer. Handling money is serious business.”
I actually knew that. How could I have been so stupid?
“Which is why I made up that little story about us, so that guys like that don’t continue to distract me from my very serious job of handling your money.”
I was quite surprised by the confidence in my own voice.
He laughed. Phew. It was an adorable laugh and I wouldn’t mind kissing him while he did it. No wonder the other tellers couldn’t keep their hands off of him with his dashing looks. Men this powerful are hard to turn down.
He was fumbling with a button on his coat and I tried hard not to wish that my nipples were his buttons. I should have been embarrassed; he had heard me claim I was engaged to him, and imply he was connected to the mob. If embarrassment was the socially acceptable reaction to such a situation, then why the hell was I so aroused? He was coming closer and I momentarily forgot how to breathe.
“Let me make you a proposition,” he said as he sat down across from me. “We will never have to speak about of your encounter with that bespectacled guy if you let me take you out to lunch tomorrow.”
“I have to work,” I said automatically.
Was I even breathing? I couldn’t be sure.
“I’ll pay you to take the whole day off. And maybe after lunch we can spend the whole day in my apartment being, you know, ‘married’ for the day.”
He winked. I felt my pulse rising. Right now I couldn’t think of a single reason to turn his offer down, but I had to get ahold of myself. This was what Zayden did, and I was smarter than the women who fell for it.
“Sure, we can meet each other’s parents and raise some children after,” I laughed. It wasn’t a convincing laughter. I got up before things could get out of hand. “I’ll eat this later. Have a nice day Mr. Sinclair,” I said and walked away without looking back.
This must have been what a tornado felt like.
CHAPTER 2
ZAYDEN
I looked at the girl lying next to me with a mixture of confusion and amusement. I was pretty sure she was faking sleep. Just like last night she had pretended to be too intoxicated to go home, even when I suggested I would have my chauffeur drive her in one of the limos. Girls like this got on my nerves, and I was starting to regret taking her back to my place.
Not that I wasn’t used to girls clinging on like this; usually, however, after a good fuck I would just tell them that I was “emotionally unavailable.” There would be some crying, but eventually those words would drive women to flee without much egging on my part. I let out an involuntary snort. Women. All I knew was it worked. Anything worked. Everything worked.
Most of the time, anyway. Very rarely did women deny my advances, and Aria Roberts had been the first in countless years to so casually turn me down. It excited me to maddening degrees; it had gotten far too easy for me to get women and I needed a good challenge. But last night, I was so frustrated that I picked up the first pair of sexy boobs that flashed in my face at the Tavern. Boring personality, if she had one at all, and an even more boring lay. I had half the mind to finish myself off in the middle of it, but felt sorry for the poor soul. Another reason it pissed me off that she was still lying comfortable in my king-sized bed.
“Wake up!” I tapped her shoulders. “Quick! It’s time to go home.”
She opened her eyes slowly and got out of the covers, still naked. She did have nice breasts; maybe it wasn’t the worst pick-up ever after all.
“I’m so sorry,” she said, ruffling her hair. Trying to be cute. Women. “I didn’t realize I over-slept. I was…”
Yeah, the breasts were really something. She was rambling on but I didn’t catch a single word, or care to. I felt myself get harder watching her nipples and just threw her back into the bed. She seemed way too excited about it; I’d have to deal with it later but for now I just grabbed her and closed my eyes.
I thrust myself deep inside her, picturing Aria Roberts’ tiny body and perfect little ass in my mind. Fuck.
***
“Mrs. Sinclair asked me about your whereabouts this morning,” my driver Ned said.
I grunted. My mother had a way of getting on my nerves.
“Tell her I’m in Bali for the rest of the month.”
“I think she plans to surprise you with a visit,” he said apologetically.
Ned was one of the only people in the world I would trust with my life. He had been with our family for over two decades, and helped me keep it together when my dad passed away, six years ago today. It was the day of my MBA graduation and I was supposed to leave for a vacation to Spain that night; I had no real plans, no rush to hurry into a career. He had a stroke, and all of a sudden I was left without a father and without my youth, and with the South National Bank empire as compensation for my loss. Every single day of my life since that day six years ago has been dedicated to growing what my dad had built, to honor his legacy, to take his company further than his wildest imaginations.
This left no room for friends or any kind of social life outside of what the business demanded, and I couldn’t be happier about it. There would be parties and overseas cruises and models in penthouses, but all for the business, all to convince shareholders and investors that I made them happy and that their money was best suited in my expert hands. The models in penthouses were the only mildly pleasurable part. Generally though, any social situation was an arena for manipulation and cunning, and just another way to build on my dad’s empire. People tended to hold me back and there was no room in my life for a pause.
Ned was, in some ways, my only friend.
“It’s okay. I’ll take care of it, Ned.” I sighed. “You don’t worry about it.”
When I got to my desk, I was welcomed by a slew of emails. The union in the Nashville branch was organizing a third strike this year and had closed up for business. What a bunch of fucking babies. I was all for fair wages and benefits; so much so that I had been invited to a local TED talk to address the importance of solidarity and understanding between company executives and the lowest level employees. I turned down the invite – only people who don’t practice have time to preach – but was subsequently featured in ZEN magazine for running the only set of banks in the nation that paid even the cleaning staff over twice the minimum wage. The first union strike hadn’t phased me—it would have almost moved me if I were capable of such a thing—and I had raised companywide salary. The second time and onwards it had just started to look like they were testing how far they could push me. I felt a tremor of anger as I dialed Tom, the Nashville VP.
“Shut it down,” I said sharply.
Tom huffed and puffed some words that faintly resembled coherence, but my attention drifted away from the problem at hand as I saw Aria Roberts walk into the building and towards the teller’s booth. She had a fascinating body. Not stunning in any traditional sense. I had fucked far too many supermodels to be excited by infinite legs and plastic breasts. Aria was what could only be defined as cute. Cute in the sexiest way possible. She had a petite figure and couldn’t be much taller than 5’3, if that, and it suited her heart-shaped face and bright brown eyes. Her long red hair covered half of her tiny body, ending slightly above her lower back. Her breasts were on the smaller side, but all I needed was a mouthful. There was a mouthful there for sure, and plenty to spare. What really stood out was her perfectly round ass. It was bigger than most of her and I wasn’t sure how she could fit that curve in her small body and still walk with a stride. I was getting hard just looking at her through my glass door.
“Zay? You there?”
I snapped out of it. “What? Uh… I don’t wanna hear it Tom, I don’t wanna hear any of it. Just shut it down, alright?”
My eyes drifted towards Aria again. When would I get the opportunity to throw that little body into the air and fuck her brains out? Would I ever? The fact that I had to ask myself that question surprised me. Never before had it been a question of if but when, with any woman: actresses, models, athletes—they all gave in eventually. But I couldn’t seduce a teller in my own bank! They usually begged me to take them any way I liked, anywhere I liked. Some just gave in right after their first interview here – they never actually made it to work afterwards, though. I didn’t do repeats and I didn’t like the idea of employing girls that would be too distracted fantasizing about me to get their jobs done. I usually sent them to work for a business-partner or another shareholder with the highest recommendations, so I wasn’t exactly making them suffer. That would be Aria’s fate too, and perhaps the knowledge of that made her shy away from me.
Or maybe she really, truly, genuinely had no interest in sleeping with me. The way she shrugged off all my advances with confident scorn and polite laughter surely suggested that was the case. That fascinated me endlessly. She had told me she was single, yet she seemed to turn men down right and left. I knew she was a junior in college. Perhaps between the coursework and working almost full-time hours at the bank she simply did not have time for some fun. Maybe if I gave her the right kind of incentive and somehow assured her that she will be compensated for her company more generously than she was for her job…
But I realized I had already tried that and she was still not interested. I was back at square one, at a complete loss. I had unions to deal with, people to fire, emails to respond to, but all I could focus on was a twenty-year-old girl’s ass. All I cared about was finding a way to get her into my bed.
I was hovering on dangerous territory, but I loved a good challenge. I picked up the phone again and watched her answer from the teller’s booth.
“South National Bank, how may I help you?”
She was looking towards me. She knew.
“I can think of so many ways.” I grinned. “None that would require your clothes, though.”
She chuckled, flashing her dimples. It was a nervous laugh. I made everyone around me nervous; it was the natural reaction I had come to expect from people over the years. The reaction coming from her was a source of thrill because she hadn’t gave into me yet.
“Did you need something, Mr. Sinclair?”
“Well, first of all, I need you to call me Zayden. Zay is fine too. Can you do that for me?”
“Okay Zayden,” she sighed heavily. “You’re watching, so you know that took everything out of me. I like to be professional.”
Mrs. Brian, the other teller on duty, looked at Aria disapprovingly. She had worked for this bank for many years, and had seen my shenanigans with many different women.
“I could take so many things out of you, Aria.” My face was serious now. Wanting. “Just give me a chance to show you. I’ll make you feel things you never thought you were capable of feeling.”
She looked away. I was beginning to get irritated that I couldn’t get through to her.
“Thank you for the very generous offer, Mr. Sinclair, but I think I’ll pass for now. Please let me know if you need anything.” She paused for a second. “Anything else, I mean.”
She hung up, leaving me more ridden with desire than before.
CHAPTER 3
ARIA
My roommates Nick and Stacey were having the hardest time deciding on the kind of pizza to order, as the three of us curled up on our living room couch watching Friends.
“God Stacey, you’re such a Monica!” Nick exclaimed.
“Well excuse me for not wanting to give us all cancer,” Stacey snapped back.
“Get off WebMD, Stace. Pizza crust cannot give you cancer.”
“You would be surprised by the kinds of things gluten could do to you if you took some time out of playing space games to actually read about important things on the internet.”
Nick sighed and looked at me as I began to cover my face with my palms.
“I am not going to play judge to yet another pseudo court-drama about the importance of video games in your burgeoning career as a programmer,” I mumbled. “Deal with your girlfriend yourself.”
Stacey gasped. “Traitor! You’re supposed to be my best friend!”
“I am. Which is why I am staying out of this.”
They both looked confused and annoyed, as though they were completely clueless about where to go from here. It was comical. Nick and Stacey were the best couple I had ever seen: they were best friends first, and argued over everything from Nick’s video games to Stacey’s Cosmo-inspired women’s blog to pizza and gluten. I also happened to secretly know that they were both working extra shifts – Nick at the Southern Eastern University’s IT help desk, and Stacey at the library – to save money so they could surprise each other on their three-year-anniversary.
Stacey had been my best friend since 9th grade, and when she had met Nick – a freshman in college at the time – we were in our senior year of high-school. At first I was worried sick that we would grow apart after she had found a boyfriend, but it turned out that Nick was incredibly cool and we got along well. So much so that when Stacey and I joined him for college at SEU two years ago, moving into his two-bedroom apartment seemed the natural thing to do. Most people seemed surprised to learn that I lived with a couple, but to us it was just three best friends being roommates and goofing around the house. And my room was far enough away from theirs for me to not hear things I wouldn’t want to hear. I was going to miss them when we all graduated and they moved on to get married, have babies, and do other things couples do. I was a tad envious of what they had. They really were perfect for each other.
Watching their relationship had been one of the reasons I had grown to become ridiculously picky about men. The other reason was a guy I had dated my freshman year who cheated on me with a sorority girl. Rick – a Dick if there ever was one – was my first boyfriend, and things seemed to be going great as our first anniversary was approaching. I was going to lose my virginity to him that night. Everything was planned. Nick and Stacey were on a weekend getaway, I had cleaned and double-cleaned the apartment, bought candles and incense and all kinds of other romantic crap. I had cut my shift short so I could set everything up, but when I got home I caught him in bed, in my bed, with a blonde girl I had never seen.
I ended up getting drunk to try and wipe away the sadness, and that led to having sex with another bar-goer. When I woke up and saw my mistake next to me, I pledged that I would not casually date men, I would not settle for anything less than what Nick and Stacey had. One year later, I was still going strong on the pledge. Except for the part where I often dreamed of my boss’s naked body. These dreams were sporadic at first, but were occurring more and more frequently. I was still very firmly set on never acting on my feelings or falling for his advances.
I turned my attention back to Nick and Stacey’s bickering and gave up. “Guys, just get a medium pizza with rice-crust and a medium regular. Problem solved.”
After a short pause, I looked at Stacey with amusement. “I’ll be eating the regular, Stace, but I am still morally on your side.”
She threw a pillow at me and we burst into simultaneous giggles.
Half an hour later the doorbell rang.
“That should be the pizza,” Nick said, popping up.
“God I am starving. I hope they sent the extra pepper flakes. They always mess that up,” I said.
“I don’t understand your inability to consume any kind of food that doesn’t burn your soul.”
“It doesn’t burn, that’s the point. Not in a bad way, at least. Spice makes me appreciate the flavor more.”
“Weirdo.”
“Says the girl who refuses to eat regular pizza because she read something on The Great Internets.”
She scowled. “God, you’re starting to sound just like Nick.”
“Where did he disappear to anyway? It shouldn’t take this long to-” she stopped as Nick showed up looking utterly confused.
Instead of two pizzas, however, he was holding a giant bouquet of red roses.
“When I said I wanted gluten free, that’s not what I had in mind,” Stacey said. “But how sweet, Nick!”
His eyes widened. “No! No no. Shit. I can order you some flowers if you want! Sorry, baby. These are for Aria. From someone named Zayden.”
Stacey gasped loudly, covering her mouth. “Zayden as in-“
“As in her boss Zayden,” Nick finished her sentence, looking equally confused.
They were both looking at me sharply as though I would know what to say. As though I had been expecting flowers from my boss, who very likely had his assistant Lana order them for every teller he hadn’t yet gotten his hands on.
Nick handed me the flowers after picking out the note.
“Hey!” I shouted trying to reach for it. Nick was 6’5. I wasn’t going to win.
“Dear Aria,” he read out loud in a dramatic voice, his right arm over his chest. “I hope you enjoy the roses. One rose for each day until I change your mind.”
Nick gasped as Stacey counted: “Thirty roses!”
I felt myself get hot in the face with embarrassment, but a tiny bit of me fluttered in excitement. What the hell was wrong with me?
“There’s a P.S.” Nick announced. “P.S. I picked out the roses myself, so don’t bother thanking Lana tomorrow.”
“Have they developed technology to intercept brain-waves yet?” I looked at Stacey.
“No Aria, he can’t read your mind.” She flashed a huge grin. “You have a lover!”
“What?” I said louder than perhaps necessary. “I do not have a lover. Zayden – Mr.Sinclair – is not my lover.”
“Looks like he will be in about,” Nick surveyed the roses, “thirty days.”
I sighed. “No he won’t. I’ll return the roses.”
“No you won’t!” Stacey yelled, looking like I had just said I would amputate her imaginary puppy. “He’s a multi-squillionaire. And so handsome. So, so handsome. Are you stupid?”
“That’s not the point-” I stopped myself mid-sentence and gave her a suspicious look. “How do you know he’s handsome?”
“What?” she said defensively. “I read ZEN Magazine.”
Oh right. That. I had a copy of the issue with Zayden’s interview under my bed.
“I found it under your bed,” Stacy added. “You’re already kind of sleeping with him.”
“Shut up, Stace! Let’s just eat the pizza, watch some T.V., and never speak of this again.”
“Sure, if by never you mean thirty days,” Nick butted in.
“Thanks for the unsolicited opinion, Nicholas,” I said turning up the volume on the T.V. and getting under a blanket.
They continued to offer what they thought were clever comments but I tuned them out, focusing instead on the giant bouquet of red roses. Was I in trouble? Would he manage to get what he wanted in thirty days? He couldn’t take what I didn’t want to give. I felt a strange pang in my chest. The problem was, I was not entirely sure I didn’t want to give in. My cellphone rang, breaking the dangerous train of thoughts.
“Hi mom! How are you feeling?” I answered the phone.
“Hi sweetheart. I am doing much better. The doctors said I’ll be running around by the end of the month.”
I smiled. “I am so happy to hear that, mom.”
“Don’t be, we still have to pay for the stupid surgery. If I hadn’t gotten the damn surgery-”
“If you hadn’t gotten the surgery I wouldn’t have a mother,” I cut her off. “So you just worry about getting yourself all better, and I’ll worry about the bills.”
“Like you don’t have enough expenses paying your way through college. I’m sorry for being such a lousy mother, baby.”
“Don’t say that!” Tears formed in my eyes, ready to break free. “Having to file for bankruptcy because dad bailed on you after forcing you to co-sign on his loan does not make you a lousy mother. It makes you a good person who faced terrible consequences for being one. You need to stop blaming yourself. You took care of me all my life, now let me take care of you. It’s going to be okay.”
“But-”
“No but. I’ll figure out a way to pay the hospital bills. You relax and get all pretty. It’s nine o’clock, John will be over with his daily tea service.”
She chuckled nervously. “What do you mean get pretty? He’s just my neighbor who likes to help out sometimes. And bring me mugs of tea. Just a…friend.”
“Okay mom, have fun with your neighbor-friend,” I laughed. “I love you.”
“I love you too, sweetheart. Take care of yourself.”
“Mom, I love you, bye!”
I hung up with a smile still on my face and tears in my eyes. I still couldn’t believe what my dad had done to her. I had no idea where he was now, what he was doing, if he ever thought about us. He left us to take care of ourselves and I started working at the age of fourteen, while my mom tried her best to fend for us, living paycheck to paycheck, while dealing with her heart condition. It all motivated me to work hard and excel in college so I could become a successful loan officer and give my mom all the things she deserved.
This was exactly why I could never let Zayden Sinclair get into my head again. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath with new reserve.
The flowers had to be returned.
---
I walked into the loan officer’s desk feeling nervous. This morning Stacey had helped me dress up in her black suit, so I looked confident and mature enough to handle the situation. I had hoped the attire would kill the moths in my stomach, but no such luck so far.
“Hi, I am Aria,” I said, offering my right hand.
“Wilson.” His handshake was curt. “Take a seat, Aria. You’re one of the tellers here, correct? I see you whenever I walk in through the front.”
I nodded.
“How long have you been working here?” He was looking at his computer screen.
“Just about three months. I worked at State Park Bank for almost two years before that.”
“As a teller?”
I wanted him to get to the point.
“Yes, sir,” I said meekly.
“And you’re still in school?”
Why was he asking me these questions when he was obviously looking at a document that told him all the answers? Mr. Wilson was not helping the moth situation in my stomach.
“Yes, at Southern Eastern. Junior year.”
“Really?” He finally looked at me with raised eyebrows. “It says here that you have only been in college for two years.”
“Yes, but I had excellent grades in many AP classes so I had a whole year transferred over.”
“Impressive.” It didn’t sound like a compliment, for some reason. “Do you have any other jobs besides this one?”
“No, just the bank. But I work insane hours, so it’s practically two jobs,” I laughed nervously. He was not amused.
“I see,” he said and typed something on his computer.
There were a few minutes of silence during which the moths in my stomach participated in an intense war. I was just about ready to throw up. This loan was my only bet— the only way I would be able to pay for my mom’s surgery without dropping out of college. The future of my entire life depended on whatever this Wilson guy was typing on his computer.
When he finally looked up, my heart was pounding.
“Here’s the thing, Aria,” he said without a single expression on his face. “You seem like a smart girl with a very promising future. However, between your college tuition and loans and your own living expenses, and just this job to sustain yourself – even if it is, as you put it,” he paused to make air-quotes, “‘practically two jobs,’ there is just no way you will be able to handle a loan for 60,000 dollars.”
My heart fell, and I could feel my eyes start to prickle.
“But I will be out of college in a little over a year.” My voice was shaky. “And I will have an excellent job, I assure you, and my situation will change completely.”
“When that happens you can reapply for the loan.” He actually looked a little apologetic.
“I need to pay for my mother’s heart surgery.” I don’t know why I said it. Studying to be a loan officer, I knew that there was nothing Wilson could do personally. His reasoning was completely sound.
“I’m really sorry to hear that, and I wish the bank could help you out, but right now there is nothing we can do.”
“I understand.” I did. That didn’t stop me from wanting to run into the bathroom and bawl my eyes out. “Thank you.”
My face was swollen and covered in tears by the time I made it back to the teller’s booth.
CHAPTER 4
ZAYDEN
She was crying. Crying women made me uncomfortable. My mother knew this so well that I didn’t remember the last time I saw her without tears in her eyes. At first it was about my dad’s death, so I used to try and make her feel better, but slowly it became directed towards my dad, in bitterness. At first I didn’t understand why she would speak of her dead husband as though he were some sort of a monster, but snide comments here and there about how I was handling my billions and it all started adding up. She couldn’t believe that he hadn’t left a single penny in her name, which made no sense to me at first either, but eventually the truth came out: she had been cheating on him for years. With his lawyer. Who also happened to be one of his best friends. He tolerated it while he was alive because he loved her or some nonsense of that sort, but apparently this “love” thing was not that big of a deal because he found a way to get back at her from the grave. It made me hate her for a little bit, which added to the endless crying, but she was still my mother and I found a way to tolerate her. I bought her a giant house in California, thousands of miles away from me.
Why was Aria Roberts crying? I debated whether to go over to her and what the implications of that would be. There was no question about the fact that I wanted her body, but approaching her at an emotional time might suggest I wanted more. That I cared about how she was feeling. Well, maybe that’s exactly what she wanted; maybe believing exactly that would be what broke her restraint. I got a strange feeling in my gut that I didn’t understand. I was the master of manipulation. I messed with women’s emotions all the time. The hint of moral fiber had to be because she was crying.
I shook my head and trotted over to the booth. She was the only person there. Her mascara had slightly run down her smooth, blushing olive cheeks, which made her look surprisingly sexy.
She seemed to be so phased out that when she noticed I was standing in front of her, she jumped. Quickly wiping her face with her palms, she said in a squeaky voice, “Good morning, Mr. Sinclair!”
“Liar,” I teased. “It doesn’t seem to be that good of a morning for you.”
“Oh, yeah, I am sorry about this. I’ll cut it out before a customer walks in, I promise.”
“Well, obviously, that’s what I came over here to say.” I was smiling. “It’s okay, Aria.”
That made her burst into a whole new bout of tears. I guess it wasn’t okay, whatever it was. Completely unsure of what to do, I told her, “Take a paid hour off. Walk around if you need to, take a break.”
“I can’t,” she said between sniffs. “Mrs. Brian won’t be here until noon and Kevin is sick. I’m the only teller on duty right now.”
“That’s okay, just take some time. I’ll man the booth,” I heard myself say.
She looked perplexed, but that made the crying slow down significantly. “What? You can do that?”
“The thing about owning the company, Aria, is that I can do whatever I damn well please.”
I must have come across strong because her expression turned into that of slight fear. I tentatively put a hand on her shoulder, expecting to feel her muscles relax; instead, I felt them tense.
“It’s okay. Just go for a little bit. It’s not a request.”
“Alright, alright,” she said, starting to sniff again. “I’ll just take a walk around the block and be back soon.” She pointed towards her face. “No more of this after that. I promise.”
The minute she walked out, I felt myself get angry. What the fuck was I doing? Teller in my own bank? To get into a girl’s pants. She better be worth it when I finally made it in there. I was working way too hard for this otherwise.
I even wanted to punch the young guy who had just materialized in front of me.
“I need to deposit a check,” he said.
I pointed towards the front exit. “There’s the ATM Machine. They take checks these days. And by these days, I mean the past ten years.”
He looked terrified and strutted out. I was lucky I was the CEO of the company and never had to work customer service.
---
When Aria returned a half-hour later, her make-up was freshly painted on, with no trace of the crying fiasco on her face.
“Thank you so much and I am so sorry!” she exclaimed.
She should be. It was the worst half hour of my goddamn life.
“Don’t worry about it! But if you really feel that bad, you can make it up to me by telling me what’s bothering you.”
I wasn’t sure I cared for the answer, but that seemed like the right thing to say.
She scrunched her nose like she wasn’t sure it was a good idea but eventually said: “My request for a loan got turned down. My mother recently had heart surgery and without insurance she owes the hospital 60,000 dollars. She can’t apply for a loan herself because my family is still recovering from a bankruptcy.”
Well that was easy enough. I could take care of that right away. I didn’t want to make it so easy though.
“Who was the loan officer you spoke to?”
“Wilson. I don’t know his full name.”
“I will talk to him.” I chose my words very carefully, making sure not to make any promises I couldn’t keep. Or didn’t want to keep, more like.
Her face visibly changed colors and her eyes widened. “You can do that?”
“What did I say about owning the company?”
She jumped and for a second it looked like she was going to hug me but changed her mind.
“Oh my god, thank you so so much! You can get him to approve the loan!”
“That’s not what I said.” I spoke slowly. “I said I would talk to him.”
Her face fell. “Oh, of course – I am sorry I didn’t mean to-”
“It’s okay. Try to cheer up. I’m sure we can work something out.”
I walked back to my desk and called the loan office. “Wilson, please.”
“Mr. Sinclair! To what do I owe the pleasure?” The guy sounded absolutely thrilled to be getting a call from the CEO of the company. This could be so very easy if I wanted it to be. But a very different idea was forming in my head altogether. I would rather this be fun than easy.
“Why did you turn down Aria Roberts’ loan request?”
There was a short pause. “I’m sorry, sir, it’s classified-”
“Do you like your job, Wilson?” I spat. “Do you enjoy having somewhere to go to every day and getting a nice fat paycheck at the end of the month?”
“Yes, of course! I am sorry, sir. The situation was completely out of my hand. As you know, we run all loan requests through a software that processes applications and calculates risks. Aria Roberts’ risk was almost a 100 percent. She has no savings, spends all her money from the job paying for college and even though her credit is pretty good for her age, she simply does not have any assets or any kind of solid foundation. Not 60,000 worth anyway.”
“I see.”
“However,” he said a little too quickly, “ultimately I call the shots, and I can change the shots I called if you want.”
Is that what I wanted? No. I wanted this to be fun. This was going to be too much fun. Aria Roberts had no idea how much fun we were going to have together.
“What I need you to do is to send Aria an email letting her know you heard from me today, and that you explained to me why her loan could not go through. Make it very clear that I tried to get you to change your mind, but the system simply did not allow for it, so you were personally writing to apologize to her for the inconvenience. Copy me in the email.”
“But, sir-“
“You said you liked your job. Is that right?”
“Of course. Would you like me to add anything to the email?”
“That will be all for today. Thank you.”
---
I finished drafting up the document and briefly considered running it by my lawyer, but decided against it, more for Aria’s sake than my own. If she was going to agree to this deal, I might as well have her feel comfortable about it. I looked at the bouquet of red roses that had been returned to my office that morning and grinned. One down, twenty-nine to go. After today it probably wouldn’t take twenty-nine days before I got to screw her. After printing the document, I removed a rose from the bunch and placed it over the pile of papers on my desk.
I picked up the phone to call Aria. It was game time. I watched her answer the phone, looking somber.
“South National Bank, how may I help you?”
“Come into my office. Mrs. Brian seems to be doing quite well by herself over there.”
“Did you get a chance to talk to Wil-”
“Come into my office,” I repeated and hung up.
The nervous look on her face as she tentatively walked towards my office worried me a bit. What if she didn’t take the deal? What else could she do, though? I had made it all but impossible for her to get a loan at this bank, and could repeat the process for every other bank within a thousand mile radius.
She would have to take the deal.
As she stepped into the office my eyes were fixated on her skirt. I could offer to give her 60,000 dollars upfront in exchange for letting me throw her against the glass window, lift that tight skirt of hers, pull down her panties and fuck her. But that would be no fun. When I finally felt the sweet warmth of her pussy, it would be because she asked, because she couldn’t resist me. Nobody was allowed to resist me when I decided I wanted them. That is what made Aria seem so fascinating, and making her decide all on her own that she was wrong to ever resist me was going to be the best part.
“Sit down, Aria,” I ordered.
When she did, the hem of her skirt lifted a few inches upwards, revealing her toned, smooth thighs. I felt myself tightening in my pants.
“So did you talk to Wilson?” she asked again, looking ready to burst into another round of tears.
“I did and it’s not good news. Well, it’s not the particular piece of good news you were hoping to receive.”
The tears began to fall onto her cheeks. I would have to get her to stop doing that.
“So I’m not getting the loan?”
“You are just too young with too many responsibilities,” I said, trying to sound sympathetic. “I’m sorry.”
The crying was in full swing now, her makeup all smeared. Should I wait a little to make my proposition? I decided against it. Knowing she felt helpless right now made it significantly more likely that she would accept.
“Thank you for trying,” she said, starting to get up.
“Wait! Did I say I was done?” I said more harshly than I had intended. “Sit back down.”
“But you said that-”
“The bank cannot give you a loan right now, but that does not mean you there aren’t other ways you can make that money.”
Her eyes widened. “No!”
“You haven’t even heard me out yet.”
She was shaking her head vigorously. “I can’t sleep with you for money. That’s wrong. And illegal.” She looked horrified and softly added: “And I’m a virgin.”
Oh fuck. I hadn’t considered that a possibility at all. A girl so attractive should have caught every guy’s attention, which meant she was a virgin by choice. Did I really want to go through with this? Regular girls could be troublesome to get rid of, but virgins were on a whole other level. But I wasn’t paying her to sleep with me. The document in front of me mentioned nothing about sexual favors – though I had assumed that would naturally be the outcome sooner or later, and that she would initiate it. This changed things. But those damn thighs and that damn skirt and most importantly, that goddamn restraint of hers.
“That’s not what I was going to propose,” I said, making the decision to go forward with the plan. “But glad to know you hold me to such excellent standards.”
That got a laugh out of her. “What? You’re really going to sit there and act surprised that that’s what I assumed after relentlessly hitting on me? Even the note on your bouquet said you were counting down the days until you supposedly convinced me to sleep with you.”
“That is not inaccurate.” Why was she so bold? It was endearing and it pissed me off. “But hitting on you and paying you to get naked are two completely different things, I would say.”
I leaned back in my chair with confidence.
“Are they to you?” She looked genuinely surprised.
“You’re really flattering me here with your allegations to my character.”
“I’m sorry, I don’t mean to do that. But you do have quite the reputation.”
“Huh.” I raised my eyebrows. “Tell me about this reputation that I have.”
“Well, the three tellers that were let go last month, all of them had this thing in common, you see,” she winked. The girl actually had the nerve to wink at me. “Well they had two things in common actually. An apparently mind-blowing night with you, and the ability to tell tales about it.”
“This is different, Aria.”
“I’m sure they all thought so too,” she snapped.
“I never made the proposition that I am going to make to you. Never had to, really. Trust me when I say that this really, truly is different.”
“Yeah, cause you’re like in love with me because of the conversations I have with our customers regarding my future as your wife.” She was laughing hysterically now.
She used the word love. That was a trigger.
“Look, Aria, I don’t want to mislead you. I don’t do relationships or romance or any of that bullshit. This is honestly 100 percent about me wanting to take your clothes off and have my fucking way with you.”
Her face erupted into flames and I could swear I saw her shiver as she started to speak. “I-”
“No, let me finish,” I stopped her. “There is no question that I want your body and hope that you will willingly give that to me at some point. But I am not offering to buy your body. Even I am not that much of a scumbag, despite this reputation I seem to have accumulated around here. I don’t need to buy your body when there is plenty of ass that I could get with the snap of my fingers.”
“Then what are you offering?” She looked utterly confused.
“I am offering to buy your time.”
“What?” She looked like I had just said that I was flying out to Mars tomorrow.
I moved the rose to the side and handed her a copy of the document I had drafted.
“This is my offer: I will pay off your mother’s hospital bills in six installments, one for every month you spend dating me.”
Her mouth was open. “What do you mean dating you?”
“What the hell do you think it means? A guy and a girl dress up and go places together. Dinners, movies, parties, whatever they like. At the end of the night there is usually some kissing and usually something more.”
She rolled her eyes. Damn. She was ballsy with her own boss. “Thanks for the pop-culture lesson, but I am aware of how dating works. I may have even experienced it in practice here and there.”
I couldn’t help but laugh at her acting feisty.
“Then does that sound like something you’re interested in?” Things were starting to look positive on that front.
“Are you asking me to be your girlfriend?”
What? Fuck no. Why would there be a legal document in your hand if that was what I was asking? I thought she was smarter than that.
“Not exactly,” I said with caution. My next words would make or break the deal. “I am asking you to go on dates with me whenever I ask and spend time with me on my schedule for the next six months. You know what I wish to accomplish in that time, but that is not a requirement in this deal. If at no point in those six months you feel like you want to sleep with me, then hey, I tried, and we part ways. If you do, then I get what I wanted. In either case you get what you need, which is money to pay for your mother’s surgery. It’s a win-win for you any way you look at it, but quite the risk for me because there is no guarantee that I will get what I want. A risk I am willing to take.”
I also needed a date for upcoming events I had to attend to keep the businessman’s wives occupied while I tried to secure important deals. She didn’t need to know that. She looked at me and the document back and forth a few times, her mouth agape. She finally burst out laughing.
“You’re joking. Is it April first?” She looked behind her as though expecting to find an answer there. “Are there cameras around here? I’m being pranked.”
“No, you’re being fucking ridiculous,” I said, slamming my fist on the desk.
“But- but this is too damn easy to be true! You’re saying you will pay 60,000 dollars for me to get pretty and go out on dates with you, with no obligation for me to provide any sexual favors.” She scanned the documents again. “I mean, there has to be a loophole somewhere. Some clause where it says I have to let you tie me up in a dungeon and-”
“Seriously, Aria, a little respect would be nice. You have already made it clear what you think of me, and you’re not that far off, but there is no need to constantly stab me with your scathing opinions. I’m still your boss.”
“I’ll have to have my lawyer take a look at this,” she said laughing. I was not amused. “See, that’s funny, because I don’t have a lawyer. Us regular people in regular people land don’t have lawyers or butlers or-”
“Do you want me to hire you a counsel before you sign anything?”
She rolled her eyes. “Humor, Mr. Sinclair.”
“Zayden. There is a clause in there about calling me that,” I said, pointing to the contract.
Her laughs got hysterical. “There is a clause? So what, if I don’t call you by your first name you take money off my contract?”
I furrowed my brows. “I wouldn’t do that. But I’d like it if you called me Zayden.”
“Only if you add a clause that says you need to work on your sense of humor.”
“Yeah, we can make that work.” Her eyes were twinkling. “Oh. You are being facetious. Very meta.”
I laughed and then I realized that she was agreeing to the contract.
“So you are accepting!” A kind of excitement I hadn’t experienced in a long time started to bubble up.
“I have two conditions.” My lips started twitching again but she added: “Real ones.”
“Oh. Go on.”
“First, the money will be a loan, not a gift. I don’t feel comfortable taking your money just for spending time with you.” She noticed my smirk and added, “I guarantee you this won’t end in me sleeping with you, so you are not going to get what you want. It’s not fair on you, in any case.”
“We will see about that,” I said, the smirk still on my face.
“We won’t. I already know the outcome of this Zayden.” She was at least calling me by my name already. “Hypothetically, though, if I were to sleep with you, I would be especially uncomfortable taking money from you. That would kind of make me a prostitute.”
“I never intended to make you feel like-”
“It doesn’t matter, since I will not actually be sleeping with you. It’s a loan, which I will pay you back in monthly installments, with a 10% interest after I graduate from college.”
Her words combined with the fiercely confident look on her face made her all the more attractive. “I refuse to take interest, but sure, if it makes you feel better about the whole thing, after you have spent a few years working a real job you can start paying me back. I won’t hold you to it though. I have plenty of money.”
“You will have to, it will be in the contract. And 5%, starting a month after I graduate.”
“Zero percent interest, but you can start the payments six months after graduation. And I’ll put it in the contract. Final offer.”
She sighed. “Okay, fine.”
“What’s your other clause?”
She opened her mouth and closed it a few times, as though unsure if she should speak her next words. “You cannot be physically involved with any other woman during these six months.”
Wait, what?
“That’s fucking ridiculous. I don’t think I can do that. Especially since you keep stressing on just how much I am not going to be sleeping with you either.”
She shrugged. “If we are going to be dating, in public, I cannot be okay with the idea of you going home at the end of a date to entertain some other woman while thinking of me the whole time.”
“It’s cute you assume I’d be thinking of you.”
“You have obviously never been on a date with me.”
“It’s not going to happen, Aria. Anything else?”
“I know that seems somewhat unfair but-” She was screwing the corner of her mouth, looking like she really did feel bad about what she was asking. “But I have been cheated on before and it was one of the worst feelings in the world. I know it wouldn’t be cheating in this case, since we aren’t going to be in a relationship, per say. But if I know you have been sleeping around, it will be difficult for me to spend time with you without some kind of resentment. I do appreciate you offering to help me out and I don’t want to feel resentful towards you. You obviously don’t deserve that. So if this is too much to ask, we don’t have to make the deal at all and I will still be grateful for your offer.”
I hated the fact that, even with 60,000 dollars in my hands, the ball was in her court and I was the one playing by her rules, yet it made her all the more fascinating, the challenge more exciting. Backing out now would be accepting defeat and Zayden Sinclair did not do defeat. I would make Aria Roberts beg to join me in my bed, if that was the last thing I ever did. Agreeing to her terms would definitely not mean six months of celibacy, since I was going to have her in no time.
“I will add your terms to the paperwork and have you sign it tomorrow,” I finally said.
She grinned.
The game was on.
CHAPTER 5
ARIA
“You did what?” Stacey was staring at me with a mixture of complete horror and amusement.
“I signed a contract to date Zayden Sinclair for six months.”
“But Aria, is this what you want? To lose your virginity over some contract with some-”
I hadn’t even told my best friend that I had already lost my virginity. I was embarrassed that it was some guy from a bar. No one was ever going to know if I had anything to do with it.
“I’m not losing anything, that’s what I’ve been trying to explain to you. He just wants me to go on dates with him.”
She eyed me suspiciously. “Are you sure? Did you read the contract? There wasn’t some footnote involving a dungeon of some sort?”
“I said the same thing,” I laughed. She joined me, to my relief. If I was going to do this, Stacey’s support was essential. If she didn’t support this I would hear about it every day. “But no, I read it cover to cover. No loopholes, no dungeons, no sex. Just spending time with him. And I’ve been thinking about that, it can actually be beneficial to me!”
“Well yeah, that’s a lot of money and you can help your mom out,” she said, jumping on to the edge of my bed and grabbing my stuffed turtle. I threw her a pillow from my desk.
“Yes, that, but also, he has an insane knowledge of the banking industry,” I said, mindlessly scrolling through my computer screen. “He can teach me things when we hang out.”
“He is a CEO, a title he inherited. I doubt he knows much about becoming a loan officer.”
“He owns a chain of banks.” I looked at her with raised eyebrows.
“I guess he’d better know a lot about loan officers, huh?” She was hugging my pillow.
I shrugged. “Won’t hurt to ask. Plus I am taking advanced Macroeconomics classes; he has a Masters in Economics along with an MBA, so at least he can help me ace my classes.”
“Somehow, Aria, I don’t think he means he wants to help you with homework when he says he wants to date you. He very likely has other things in mind.”
“He does,” I frowned. “But since he is not going to get what he has in mind, we will have to find something to talk about during these ‘dates’ or whatever, and I might as well steer the conversation in a direction that helps me do better in school. It’s not a colossal waste of a time that way.”
“Or you could just jump his bones.” She was now flipping through the copy of ZEN magazine with his interview on it.
“You jumped ship pretty quickly. Weren’t you just lecturing me about the sanctity of my virginity?”
“Nope, I was just asking you if that’s what you wanted to do. If it is, then by all means make hot… passionate… love to this divine creation. I wonder how big his-”
“Nick!” I screamed loudly, cutting her off. “You need to come in here and get your girlfriend, she’s getting out of control.”
“Shhhhhh,” she hissed. “He won’t find this funny. We haven’t done it in two weeks.”
“What? Why?”
“We are saving it for our anniversary. Have to keep things spiced up.”
“By actively not, you know, spicing them?” I shook my head. “You sex-having people and your weird ways.”
“You’ll get there soon enough. Very soon according to your boss.”
“Please tell me you believe I can resist him.” I could. I really, truly could. Why was I trying so hard to convince myself when it was obviously the truth? My first time having sex was a mistake and no way was my second time going to be too.
“You are stubborn enough to,” she said, flipping through the magazine. “But if I were you, I would have some fun with this whole thing. I mean how often do sexy gazillionaires pay you to date them? I’d do him for free, if he asked.”
“Don’t make me shout for Nick again.”
She threw the pillow back at me and I caught it right before it hit my head.
“Fine. You sit here and be boring on your computer, I’ll go find my boyfriend.” She got up and left mumbling: “who is probably sitting on his computer and being equally boring. What does one have to do for some fun roommates around here?”
---
As the work-day came to an end and people started evaporating away, I felt a strange knot in my chest. Zayden had sent me an email earlier:
Aria,
Hang around after 5. Our deal begins today.
Best,
Zayden
Zayden Sinclair
Chairman and CEO
South National Bank
I wondered what he had in mind for today. He hadn’t mentioned anything about going out, and seemed perfectly comfortable lying on his office couch typing intently on his MacBook. Yep, we definitely weren’t going anywhere. Just as well, I could ask him questions for my Econ paper on progressive taxation. There was nothing else I could think of for us to do within the premises of this bank except that, because that was just not happening.
When everybody else cleared out, I wasn’t sure whether to walk over to him or wait for him to summon me; he seemed occupied by whatever was on his computer. Maybe he wouldn’t even notice if I quietly snuck out. I did have tons of homework to get to. I tentatively started packing up but the phone rang.
“Who said you could leave?” He was staring at me. “You signed a contract.”
“You seemed busy and I wasn’t sure if you wanted to be left alone.”
“If I wanted you to leave me alone, you would know Aria.” With just that much he hung up the phone and went back to typing vigorously on his laptop. What the hell was I supposed to do just sitting here? I pulled out my phone and started texting Stacey.
“it’s weird as fuck. he’s just sitting there doing work but I’m not allowed to leave.”
Stacey wrote back immediately.
“ask him if he needs anything. offer to make him some coffee.”
“and set feminism back a few decades?”
“it’s just a nice gesture, nothing to do with you being a woman. he’s helping you out, be nice.”
“fine. whatever.”
I called him back. “Would you like some coffee?”
“Not if it is to be delivered with your clothes on.” A grin formed on his face. I rolled my eyes. “Come on, I’m just teasing. Easy on the eye-roll.”
“You can see that?” I rolled them again involuntarily.
“And that. I’m good with the coffee, but thank you. Dinner should be arriving soon. I’ll get off my computer when it does, I promise.”
“What? Dinner?”
“Yep, it’s a particular kind of meal, usually served in the evenings, usually the last meal of the day.”
“You think you are so funny, don’t you? I didn’t know we would be having dinner.”
“Well you do now. Tonight and every other night until I say otherwise, you’ll be having dinner with me at the office.”
“Will I ever get to choose what I want to eat or will you always be doing it on my behalf?” I regretted saying that immediately. I was kind of being a bitch, but the best part about takeout is deciding what to eat.
He looked a little wounded by that. “Well, I will just email you Sean’s number and you can tell him what you would like from tomorrow onwards.”
“What are you even talking about?”
“Sean’s my chef. He does international gourmet meals.”
“Oh,” I said feeling stupid. “Of course.”
Why would we be getting take-out when he had an international gourmet chef at his fingertips? For some reason, the notion made me feel extremely uncomfortable, and a little irrationally angry. I hung up, looked away from Zayden and took a deep breath. I wasn’t sure why I was so on edge. Perhaps because I had been hanging out around the office after a long day of work to entertain him, while he pretty much ignored me for most of the night thus far. What was he even trying to accomplish?
Okay, maybe I was a little upset because I had wanted to talk to him, get to know him, and get help with my Econ paper. Not sit here staring at my phone panic-texting Stacey. The truth was I wanted us to become friends. In order to achieve my dreams of becoming a successful loan officer, having a powerful network of contacts was essential, and it was particularly helpful if my contacts were of the power and stature of one of the most successful young banking entrepreneurs in the country. Part of my reasoning behind wishing to discuss homework with him was that he could see my potential outside of my job as a teller and hopefully serve as a valuable reference someday. In fact, the more I thought about the contract that I had signed, the more it seemed to be beneficial to me rather than him.
But this, whatever was going on right now, was beneficial to nobody.
It was another half hour before a couple of men in black-and-white uniform materialized as though out of thin air and began setting up silver dishes on the mahogany table in Zayden’s office. Wouldn’t that stain? Zayden Sinclair probably didn’t give a crap about stains though. He probably owned an entire IKEA all to himself, all furniture readily replaceable whenever he liked. Much like the women he got involved with. Disposable, just like me. I shook my head. Instead of letting my thoughts stray to needlessly upsetting places, what I needed to do was enjoy a nice dinner with an influential man and try to build on my nonexistent network.
One of the men in the uniforms was now walking towards me.
“Dinner is ready, Ma’am,’ he said with a smile on his face.
Ma’am. I wanted to burst out laughing. “Call me Aria, and thank you.”
“I’m afraid I can’t do that, Ma’am,” he looked at me nervously.
Oh god. I did not have the energy or will to argue, as it hit me just how hungry I was. Whatever rich people ate for dinner, it had to be tasty, right? I took off my jacket and walked towards Zayden’s office. I was wearing a blue dress with a slightly low-cut neck, and black tights. Professional and hopefully alluring in a not misleading or sexual kind of a way. Most of the men in uniforms were now waiting just outside the bank’s premises, except for the guy who had come to summon me: he was holding a bottle of champagne.
Zayden was already seated when I got there, with a red napkin wrapped around his neck and his sleeves rolled up.
“Do you like champagne?” he asked.
“Who doesn’t like champagne,” I giggled in a don’t-be-silly kind of a way and sat down. “I love champagne, it’s super tasty and-”
I made the mistake of catching his eye. It was twinkling.
“Okay, I’ve never actually had champagne before,” I admitted. “I don’t really drink other than a few beers here and there with pizza and T.V. I am not a particularly exciting person.”
He was beaming at me as though I had just said I saved sick puppies for a living.
“I haven’t had the luxury of enjoying greasy pizza and cheap beer with some good old television in quite some time.”
“Luxury? Are you mocking me?” Our waiter – server? butler? – was pouring out two glasses of champagne, as I tied a red napkin around my neck to match Zayden’s.
“No, not at all! Luxury is relative,” he said looking quite disdainful. “Sometimes I wish I could enjoy the simple pleasures of life but all this was dropped on me,” he said, extending his arms out to his sides.
“You’re talking like you’re dead. We can totally just hang out with some Bud Light, pepperoni pizza and Netflix at my apartment one night if you like.” I laughed out loud at the thought of him coming to my apartment. Yeah, that was totally going to happen. It was polite to ask, still.
“What is that? Some kind of recording device?”
I stared at him in utter confusion for almost a whole minute before it hit me and I burst into a full-blown laughter. Zayden Sinclair, CEO of the entire South National Bank empire, was asking me if Netflix was some kind of a recording device. What planet did he live on?
“It’s,” I started out to explain but felt another fit of giggles coming on, which I quickly turned into a cough because he began looking somewhat offended.
“It’s this website that stores hundreds of thousands of movies and T.V. shows, and you pay like 10 bucks a month to be able to stream all their content online.”
He twisted his mouth in a comical fashion. “I’m just joking Aria,” he laughed. “I’d rather just purchase all of the movies and shows though.”
Well, he gave me a good laugh anyway.
“It would probably cost over a million dollars to try and purchase every title that’s on Netflix though,” I said, trying not to roll my eyes. “It’s just a cheap way to find entertainment for regular people like me.”
“I see,” he frowned, clearly not liking the concept and purpose of Netflix.
He was rich, so buying a Netflix subscription wasn’t something he would understand.
I raised my champagne glass to change the subject. “What are we drinking to?”
“To digital innovation,” he said, deadpan.
“Ha, ha,” I said, not laughing.
“Seriously though, to these next six months,” he said, clinking his glass to mine.
I sipped the bubbly drink and it tasted like a mixture of white wine and orange soda, something that sounds gross on principle but my god was it delicious. I closed my eyes letting the sweet, fizzy taste sink into my taste buds. This was why everyone made such a big deal about champagne.
“You like it then?” Zayden asked with a hint of satisfaction in his voice.
“It’s a step above Bud Light for sure,” I smiled at him, and took another huge gulp.
“That’s a shame,” he said looking at the butler. “You went through so much trouble locating the perfect bottle for no reason, Mark. Her standards are at Bud Light—you could have picked up anything bubbly from CVS next door and it would have served nicely.”
“Noted for next time,” Mark joked back.
There was something inherently pleasant about the way Zayden was so relaxed and friendly with his staff. Aren’t men like him supposed to be complete dickheads?
“To both of your disappointment, I now am spoiled to be partial to nothing but the best,” I said sipping some more of the goodness.
“Time for appetizers,” Mark said, removing the lid from one of the silver containers to reveal succulent looking sushi rolls. “Spicy tuna rolls. Sean had the fish transported from Japan only a few hours ago. It was practically fished this morning, so I hope it’s fresh enough.”
I felt a rush of excitement flood through my veins. Spicy tuna rolls were among my absolute favorite foods. What were the chances?
“Nah, I am sure it can’t beat the 5 dollar rolls from China Garden across the street that I’m used to,” I said, trying to sound nonchalant, even though I was dying to taste one.
When I did, I could just about cry with happiness. Perfectly soft, slightly crunchy and so, so spicy. I let out an involuntary moan.
“Tasty?” Zayden asked, looking delighted by my reaction. “I’ll stick to plain old California rolls. I’m the victim of mundane taste buds.”
“Suit yourself,” I said between mouthfuls. It made little sense, though. Why would he ask his chef to make spicy tuna rolls if he couldn’t handle some spice? I couldn’t be too bothered about it, however, as I was too busy putting one sushi roll after another into my mouth. I had already gobbled up an entire portion in less than five minutes. I probably looked like an uncivilized moron. Just one more…
I had sufficiently devoured two whole portions, when I heard Zayden, “I will take it from here for the entrees, Mark. Thanks for your help tonight.”
He handed him what looked like five 100 dollar bills and added, “Share it with the guys and thank them for me.”
Mark took the cash looking completely un-phased, as though this was a daily occurrence. It probably was.
When Mark left with the remaining appetizers, there was an awkward silence for a few minutes, and I almost wished I had another sushi roll there just to keep myself occupied. Zayden was looking at me straight in the eyes, not a single expression on his face. Should I say something?
“Is that a push-up bra?”
What? The question was so random and bizarre, I couldn’t help but snicker.
“I don’t have to answer that question,” I said pouting.
“Sorry.” He didn’t look sorry, as his eyes were now fixated on my breasts. “I am just a little distracted.”
His seductive ways weren’t going to stop.
“Let’s see what’s for dinner,” I tried changing the subject and lifted off the lids of a couple of silver containers. What the hell? The sushi could maybe just be a coincidence but there was no way that this entire dinner accidentally constituted of my absolute favorite dishes. The aroma of rich Indian spices filled the room and one small container was specifically reserved for spicy peppers.
“You don’t look happy,” Zayden said, looking concerned.
“No, no!” I widened my eyes. “I’m just… really surprised. I adore Indian food, and spicy peppers, and spicy anything. And you said you couldn’t even handle the sushi so how come-”
“I called your emergency contact, some Ms. Stacey Pace this morning, asking about your dietary preference.”
“You didn’t!” I exclaimed, feeling a mixture of amazement and slight annoyance at Stacey. She could have told me. Whose side was she on, anyway?
“I hope you enjoy dinner,” he said, looking extremely pleased with himself.
I enjoyed dinner, all right. Very, very reluctantly, I enjoyed the best Indian food I had ever tasted, wanting to laugh and cry and hug him all at once.
“Dessert?” he asked after we ate.
“I think we have exhausted my capacity to eat for tonight,” I said, sounding more regretful about not having space for dessert than I intended to. “Thank you though. This was truly fantastic. You didn’t have to go above and beyond, you know.”
“It was nothing,” he shrugged. “Really. I didn’t have to do anything.”
He was grinning. Right. He had help. Ugh. I felt stupid. He probably did this for every girl he tried to seduce. I had made myself sound more important than I actually was.
“I know, but I am still grateful that you took the time to learn what I liked. You’re helping me out with this whole contract thing a lot more than I’m doing anything for you already. Don’t feel like you need to put in any effort at all, even if it’s only making a few phone calls on your part. Honestly, I would have been happy just hanging out and talking, maybe asking you for some help with an Economics paper…”
I didn’t mean to say that last part out so casually. Shit. I didn’t dare meet his eyes. “I didn’t mean… I’m sorry… I meant like, if you were interested and had nothing better to do, I could entertain you with some amateur Macroeconomics.”
When I finally looked at him, his eyes were shining, with a tiny hint of a smile on his lips. “Macroeconomics, huh? What is your paper on?”
“The economic benefits of progressive taxation,” I said, my eyes planted on the silverware in front of me.
“Isn’t that a little left of center for college economics?” He sounded genuinely interested. “When I was in college they taught us to be a lot more conservative.”
“Well, that’s the thing.” I was finally able to look at him without flinching again. “My professor is a hardcore Republican who doesn’t believe any good could come out of taxing the rich. He accused me of being a dirty communist. So I am writing this paper to prove him wrong.”
“People don’t easily change their long-standing political opinions, Aria. You are probably taking a risk challenging him like that since he decides your grades.”
“He can’t fail me for disagreeing with me, and this paper is my one chance to show him that his way isn’t the only way.”
“Saving the world, one Econ professor at a time?” he laughed.
“Fine, you don’t really have to help me. I just thought it would be a fun thing to do if we are going to spend so much time together. But this is your contract, we do whatever you want on your time.”
Dinner had been so nice and relaxed; I had almost forgotten why I was there. We weren’t just two people hanging out and getting to know each other, he was paying me to do this. We weren’t friends. We weren’t anything. I was his employee. Why did I ever think he would be interested in my stupid – I jumped as I felt his hand over mine. Suddenly, without any warning, my mind went completely blank and I felt a jolt of electricity run through my veins. His hands were strong but tender, his long, slender fingers completely engulfing mine. He was twiddling his thumb against mine and I felt a sensation in a place that had no right to react to what was happening. I couldn’t remember what I was thinking about or what we were talking about. All I knew was that I wished that my body didn’t react to his touch the way it did. I squeaked involuntarily and pulled my hand away gently.
What the hell was that? Once more, I had trouble looking him in the eye. This time for completely different reasons.
It felt like an eternity had passed by the time he finally said, “I’ll help you with your paper. Every night after dinner we will work on it together. Okay?”
When I met his bright blue eyes again, he was flashing me a genuine smile and my heartbeat picked up. How embarrassing. Snap out of it, woman! Agreeing to help me with homework was just one of many tricks in his big game plan of getting my clothes off, just like organizing a custom dinner with my favorite dishes. He wasn’t interested in my food choices or my paper or my world views or my economics professor. I would be an idiot to let myself believe otherwise. He had made no attempt to hide his motives behind this entire set-up, and if I let myself get confused into thinking he actually cared about me, only I would be to blame when I got hurt in the end. Staying grounded through these six months seemed like a harder task right now than it ever had before, but I had to be strong and take this for what it was to him: a game.
“Thank you,” I said, trying not to betray my train of thought.
“And one of these days,” he added. “I would be happy to come to your apartment for some pizza and Bud Light. We can do the Netflix thing as well if it makes you feel normal.”
“All right.”
---
When I finally got home that night, however, I started panicking. Zayden Sinclair, in my house? The living room floor was covered in magazines, and Stacey and Nick would scrutinize him to no end, and our T.V. was not even a flat screen. The couch was fifty-years-old, a gift from Nick’s now deceased grandmother. Maybe I could get him to change his mind…
As I covered myself with blankets, my thoughts drifted away from the apartment to that moment during dinner when his thumb was rubbing against mine. Laden with desire, I softly rubbed my fingers against each other. I couldn’t stop thinking about it. I could not let him have this kind of an effect on me. This was exactly what he was trying to accomplish, and I knew better than to let him have what he wanted. With the firm decision to actively block any compromising thoughts of him, I closed my eyes.
That didn’t stop me from dreaming compromising dreams all night, though.
CHAPTER 6
ZAYDEN
I was surprised by Aria’s progress on her paper so far. Over the past few years running the company, I had grown cynical of women, and the thought of them as intellectual beings had not crossed my mind since my MBA days. It probably had to do with not working with many smart ones. But man, this girl was bright. Had I not been dallying with her with the intention of getting into her pants, I might even have offered her a long-term analyst position at the bank. She would crawl up the ranks quickly with her out-of-the-box thinking and passionate articulations of ideas on the impact of individual economic status on large-scale growth of a national economy. Unfortunately, some other institution would be lucky to have her as an asset, since I had already decided on utilizing a whole different set of her talents; hopefully she had those talents, even though she was a virgin. Oh, who was I kidding, I was going to enjoy every minute of it even if she just lay there like a rock. Getting her to lay down next to me was going to be the hardest part.
I was doing everything I could: researching her favorite cuisines, offering to hang out in her comfort-zone, even helping her with homework. But it wasn’t enough. I had to do more. Suddenly, I had a flash of inspiration and logged onto the MBA homepage of my alma mater.
If I submitted her abstract for publication in their Economist Tribune, they would jump to accept it purely based on my recommendation. I could gladly throw some money at them if that helped, but I did more than enough to uphold the university’s financial standing. There was no way they would decline something that came from me. I had to be careful, though, in letting her know just how much influence I had on their decision. She needed to know that it would not have happened without me, but her pride would suffer if she didn’t feel she merited the publication. In order to get her running into my arms, I had to find the perfect balance between the two.
I had begun working on the submission when she walked in.
“It’s almost six, did you want me here tonight?”
“Of course, every night. Didn’t we go over this?” I looked up at her.
She frowned. “You just look busy is all, I wasn’t sure-”
“Seriously, every night.”
“Did you get a chance to go through my paper yet?”
“Yes.” I chose my words very carefully. “It’s promising, but certainly needs more work and some solid data.”
She bought my bluff and her face fell. All the better for when she would finally learn about the publication. I felt a rush of excitement. If that didn’t do it, I didn’t know what would.
“I knew it,” she said in a disappointed voice. “I am sorry for putting you through reading that crap. You don’t have to help me with it if it’s beyond hope. I don’t want to waste your time on something that sucks.”
“If you only knew how much time I waste on things that sucked,” I winked.
She gasped. “That’s awful. And 23.”
“Huh?” 23 what? What was she talking about?
“Since the beginning of our contract, you have objectified or insulted women a total of 23 times.”
“You’ve been counting?” I widened my eyes.
“Not consciously until about 17,” she shrugged helplessly.
“Does it really bother you that much?”
“Men are all a bunch of pigs who cannot think without their dicks for more than five seconds in a row,” she said with so much feisty passion; she was turning me on. “How did that feel?”
“Like the truth,” I smiled.
She pursed her lips. “You are beyond hope.”
“Your paper doesn’t suck,” I replied without thinking.
“But you just said-”
“I said it could use some work, which is what we are going to do. Don’t worry.”
“Can we do it without being sexist?” She bit her lips, as though she didn’t really mean to say that. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to imply you were sexist.”
“You straight up called me a sexist. That’s not implying anything,” I frowned. I really wasn’t. I just had been searching for a woman who could match my intelligence, and I had yet to meet one in the financial industry. I still hired plenty of women and they all got equal pay. Aria was intriguing though.
She mumbled something inaudible.
“What was that?”
“Nothing,” she flashed me the brightest smile she could muster. “Would you like some coffee?”
“You keep offering to make me coffee, what’s your game?” I eyed her suspiciously.
She looked furious. “My ‘game’, is giving you some caffeine for energy while you seem to be working hard on whatever big important thing you’re working on. It’s called being nice; some people do it sometimes without an alternative agenda in mind.”
Oh. Shit. I must have hit the wrong button.
“I did not mean to offend you,” I said after a few moments. “I’ll take that cup of coffee.”
She walked out without saying a word, and I felt a strange emotion that I couldn’t quite identify. Remorse? That couldn’t be true, why would I feel guilty about questioning her motives? Everyone had ulterior motives. I was doing so many nice things for Aria, and not a single one of them without the intention of fucking her. Am I so horrible to assume she was attempting to do the same for some unspecified intentions?
Yes, yes I was. It was just coffee. For the second time in the last twenty-four hours, Aria Roberts had unintentionally managed to make me question my cynicism. I was starting to believe that this girl was simply a terrible influence. Another, much smaller part of me was intrigued by the very possibility that I could question my outlook on life. That thing she had said about objectifying women, for instance. It stuck with me. I wasn’t deluded enough to think myself innocent of such behavior, but twenty-three times in just a few days’ worth of conversation with a single person? That felt like a little too much, even for me. I would have to be very conscious of that around her from now on, especially if I was going to seduce her. It was essential that she believed that it was a good idea.
---
By the time she returned, I had already heard back from the Economics Journal.
“I have good news,” I said as soon as she walked in.
“I’m out of the contract and now you’re just going to loan me the money out of the goodness of your heart?” she asked with a straight face.
Technically she didn’t have to do anything significant as a part of the deal, so I was surprised by her attitude. I felt a surge of rage begin to bubble up when I made the mistake of catching her eyes. They were shining and there was a slight hint of a dimple on her soft cheeks. She was joking.
“We both know that I don’t have that good of a heart,” I said.
“I think you have a better heart than you think you do,” she shrugged.
Hearing those words made me feel way better than it should have. She thought I was a good person? That wasn’t something I was used to. The best I got from people, as far as positive reactions go, was fearful reverence. People respected what I had done with the company, they were impressed by how successful I had managed to become at a relatively young age. Never, or at least not in a very long time, had somebody actually appreciated my character. Not even me, I realized. After my dad passed away, all my morals began to intertwine together into a deeply gray area, where right or wrong only differed in the dollar value it brought to the company. Or in my personal life, on how easily and frequently it got new women to my bedroom. My dad was the person who always kept me on my toes and insisted on a regular morality check. After he passed on, it almost didn’t seem to mean anything anymore. Who should I have to be a good person for since he was no longer there? Mom wasn’t anything close to the epitome of any virtue; more importantly, she couldn’t care less what kind of a person I was turning into, as long as I showered her with gifts and nice fat checks.
What Aria had just said really startled me, because the truth of the matter was that my heart had nothing to do with anything I was doing for her; a whole another organ was responsible for my actions. But she knew that. And I had never made any attempts to conceal my true intentions. That’s what surprised me the most: she thought I was a decent person, despite my intentions! Maybe she was just sucking up to me, maybe she just needed something, maybe she was just playing a game. The cynical part of me had all these suspicions, but somehow they didn’t seem to matter in the face of the knowledge that there was at least one person in the planet that didn’t think I was a total and complete douchebag. And that meant a whole lot more to me than it should have. Which made me wonder if what I was supposed to tell her next was a good idea.
“You are getting published,” I said as though I was merely complementing her hair.
She looked confused for a few seconds, and then looked behind her as if to check if I was talking to someone else. Then she looked at me, followed by my computer and I watched in satisfaction as her eyes widened in realization and her whole face turned as bright as the daylight. Her gasp was loud enough to echo throughout the whole office building, and she probably realized that and covered her mouth.
“How?” It came out as a little squeal.
“I sent your abstract to the Economics Journal.”
“The Economics Journal?” She was practically shouting.
“Yep, it’s published at my alma mater.”
“Of course!” she exclaimed, realizing where I had gone to school. “But, but, would they just like-“
“Not usually,” I said slowly. “But they review anything that comes from me directly and they were blown away by your ideas. And when I say blown away, those were the words used by the editor in his email, which I have forwarded to-”
I cut myself short because she lunged on to me and gave me a very tight hug. I could hear her sniff as she grabbed my body with her tiny little hands. I tried to control myself, but just feeling her smooth skin against my hands, her perfectly perky breasts against my torso, and her soft skirt rub against my crotch was enough to make me forget what the conversation was about, what was happening right now, or even what day of the week it was. All I knew was I wanted to rip her dress up right there and shove my hands into her panties, shove my fingers deep inside her as I kissed her breasts until they were sore. Then I would throw her on the couch and fuck her like she had no idea was possible, deep and fast and I would come inside her sweet-
She jerked apart from me, probably able to feel my excitement through her skirt.
“Okay, that’s all for hugs, I guess,” she said, her voice almost shivering. Wow, was she…
I studied her face; it had turned a very deep shade of red. Her right arm was tugging nervously at the hem of her skirt and she was looking squarely on to the ground. She wanted it too! If there was anything I knew about women, it was the look of desire on their faces, and right now, Aria’s face was nothing if not complete and utter longing. Should I say something? Was now my only chance?
If a simple hug could cause her to react this way, wait until I kissed her; she would melt. I felt a slight disappointment at the thought of the game getting easier, but knowing Aria as much as I had gotten to know her, just because she wanted it didn’t mean she would just give it up. The odds that she had been wanting it all along were always very high; what made her stand out from all the other women was that she resisted, not that she didn’t feel. I knew she felt it, every woman did. Somehow she had managed to convince me through her tough exterior that she didn’t for a little while, I realized, feeling idiotic for ever entertaining doubts. This was definitely going to be much easier than I had been anticipating, but the fact that she just jerked away meant that it would still be a challenge. I simply had to teach her to succumb to her desires. I would show her the things she was capable of feeling and teach her to accept the greatest pleasures of life. I couldn’t wait. For now, however, I had to play it cool.
“I’m sorry about that,” I said, feigning a look of genuine remorse. “But it tends to do that. I can’t really control it.”
She tried speaking a few times but her lips were visibly trembling. She took a deep breath and tried to conceal it with a cough. Finally she said, “I don’t know what you are talking about.”
Of course she didn’t, I internally rolled my eyes. She would have felt my rock hard cock if she were wearing a space suit.
“Oh, never mind then,” I played along. She knew. I knew. What was the fucking point of this?
“Thank you so much!” She exclaimed, trying to change her expression to that of delight.
For what? For my hard on? It took me almost an entire minute to realize what she was talking about. I had completely forgotten the conversation that led up to that moment.
“Oh, my pleasure entirely.” I gave her a crooked smile. It would be my pleasure soon enough. I could not wait much longer. More hugs like that and I would forget all about the contract and the challenge and seduce her right away. “And you don’t really have to thank me, it was your hard work and intelligence that got them to accept the paper. I was merely the middle-man.”
“A middle-man that pays to run that whole department,” she said with almost a hint of envy. “Let’s be honest, if the email had not come from you, they would never ever give an undergrad the time of the day and my abstract would go straight to their virtual bin.”
“Yes,” I had to say. There could be no confusion about the fact that this would have been impossible without my help. But I also thought it important to add, “But they could read it and turn it down with ease if they didn’t like what they saw.”
“Seriously, Zayden.” I liked the way she said my name. Zay-den. It sounded intoxicating. “Thank you so much.”
“Don’t thank me just yet. That was simply the abstract. You have a whole paper to write,” I reminded her. “We have a paper to write.”
I killed it with the “we.” I could see the joy in her face. “You’re a really good friend,” she said.
Friend? Did she think of me as someone she could call a friend? That was a weird sensation, hearing her call me a friend; and not necessarily in a bad way. Of course, I wanted to be more than that physically, but I wondered if it was worth keeping her around as a friend after I got what I wanted? I didn’t really have any friends aside from Ned, and if I was going to allow a girl in my life in any capacity, that word seemed to nicely describe it. Her intelligence was obvious, and maybe if we could remain friends, it wouldn’t be the worst idea in the world to have her work for me. I knew I could gain a lot from her talents, and she could make more money than she would anywhere else. I definitely needed to consider this in more depth: it all depended on how she would react if – when – we eventually have sex. There was a good chance that she would hate me forever for taking her virginity and not wanting anything more. Would it, though? She seemed like a very rational and together girl. I wasn’t entirely sure she would want to get emotionally involved with me if she knew that the alternative would grant her the career of her dreams. Her ambitions almost reminded me of myself in my college years. In those days I would never have let anything stop me from my aspirations, and I suspected that Aria Roberts wasn’t the kind to either.
“If you really think so,” I said smiling at her. “Then do me a favor.”
“Anything!” she exclaimed immediately and hurriedly added, “Anything other than, you know.”
I laughed. “That wasn’t what I was going to ask. Have I asked that of you since our contract started?”
She looked like she was raking her brains for a moment and shook her head. “No, you haven’t.”
“Didn’t think so. What you could do for me is join me to a gala on Saturday I have to go to.”
She looked confused. “You didn’t have to ask me that, it’s part of our deal, I go with you to that kind of stuff.”
“I know, but I am giving you the option to say no. This isn’t about the contract. I want you to join me to the event if you want to. If not, no problem, it won’t affect our contract.”
I knew she needed to go but it was going to be much more satisfying if she said yes of her own choosing.
“Don’t be silly.” She gave me a look that said I was being ridiculous. “Of course I’ll go.”
“You don’t even know what it is. What if I take you to a dark alley and-”
“Zayden, I think we have by now established that I feel completely safe around you. So I would love to join you at this ambiguous gala thing, okay?”
The way she said that made me laugh. “I will send you the details to the ambiguous gala thing to your email. Do you wanna go shopping before it?”
“What? No! I have clothes,” she sounded deeply offended.
“Everybody has clothes, that’s not why people go shopping-”
“That’s not remotely true; there are millions of poor people in the world who don’t have clothes.”
“That’s not what I meant. I don’t know, I am used to girls enjoying activities like shopping, so I assumed you’d find it fun too. Didn’t mean to offend you. It’s a black-tie event so dress accordingly,” I shrugged and slyly added, “And honestly, you would look good in just about anything.”
A faint blush embraced her cheeks. “Thanks,” she mumbled. “Do you want to get started on the paper now? I have a publication to look forward to.”
CHAPTER 7
ARIA
“Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god!” Stacey was hyperventilating, like she was the one going on a date with Zayden Sinclair to a fancy gala. “What are you going to wear? You don’t have fancy gala clothes!”
“We will go shopping,” I said with a mouth full of popcorn. Regardless of how haughty I had acted in front of Zayden, I did not, in fact, have clothes for the event. He had sent me the flyer and it was some kind of a vintage auction that he was attending for a business partner. Frankly, I was rather surprised that he wanted me to join him for this instead of some supermodel.
Oh wait, I had forbidden him from sleeping with supermodels as a part of the contract. It made sense that he wouldn’t want to take one to the Gala if he couldn’t take her clothes off at the end of the night. Chauvinists, I shook my head. At least I could safely say that he wasn’t taking my clothes off. I’d make sure to purchase a dress with extra-complicated zippers, just in case. And wear my granny panties.
Why was I thinking like that? Like someone that doubted herself? I had consciously made the decision not to sleep with him under any circumstances, and I did not need the aid of complicated garments in order to keep my restraint.
“Oh my god. Oh my god. Oh my god!” Stacey had a second round of hyper-ventilation when Nick walked in.
“What’s the occasion that we are remembering the Almighty for?” He sat down, grabbing a bunch of popcorn from the bowl. I moved the bowl and made a pretend shocked expression that said “mine!”
“Aria is going to a super fancy vintage auction with the most good looking guy in the world!” Stacy said.
“Ouch!” Nick made a mock-hurt expression.
“Sorry baby, you are the handsomest guy as far as I’m concerned,” she said air-kissing him. “But I meant in a more objective sense.”
“Don’t bother, Stace. I am not deluded enough to compare myself to Zayden Sinclair.”
Stacey looked like she was now feeling genuinely bad, even though Nick didn’t really care, so she walked up to him and locked him in an embrace. It was an adorable sight, since Nick was over a foot taller than her, but balled up inside his arms like that, they looked like a couple from a poster advertising happiness.
“I am just excited for Aria, you know that, right?” she asked, kissing his cheek.
“Nope, I was convinced that you are secretly having nightly dalliances with this billionaire playboy.” They both started laughing.
“Aria is!” she was almost too quick to chime in.
“You already told me about her deal,” Nick said, not sounding particularly interested.
“Care more,” I said, stuffing a new batch of popcorn into my face. “Please.”
This was why Nick was one of my best friends: he jumped off the couch and started dancing while screaming, almost singing, “Aria is dating a billionaire!!!”
I threw a pillow at him and went back to my bowl of popcorn.
---
On Saturday afternoon I changed about ninety-five times. I had tried everything in my wardrobe, but nothing seemed to be appropriate for a date with Zayden Sinclair. The shopping trip never happened because Stacey managed to catch the flu and I had no sense or intention to embark in such an activity without her, which I now regretted immensely. I looked at myself in the mirror after taking off yet another dress. I was wearing my red lacy bra and matching panties. Just because. There was no harm in looking and feeling good, it didn’t mean anything. I sighed as a tiny voice inside me began to send warning signals. Fine. Granny panties it is. Looking freshly eighty-years-old, I started going through my entire wardrobe when the doorbell rang and I shuddered.
I had at least four hours until the date, it couldn’t be….
“I got it!” I heard Nick’s voice from outside and quickly threw on a sweater and jeans to greet whoever was at our door. By the time I stepped out, Nick was standing with a giant package in his hand.
“It’s for you,” he grinned. “From your lover.”
“What on Earth could he possibly have sent me four hours before our date?” I approached the package and almost didn’t want to open it because of how perfect it looked. It was wrapped in teal and white paper with a beautiful mauve bow tied on to the top. I wished I could just keep the wrapper and not open what was inside. The wrapping itself was the perfect present.
“Open it!” Nick was getting impatient.
Very carefully I removed the bow and set it to the side, then I slowly started to bring apart the paper wrapping, hoping to do it perfectly and save the pretty paper, but Nick jumped in and tore the thing apart too soon for me to stop him.
“Nick! I wanted to save that!” I said, genuinely surprised by how annoyed I was. But Nick made puppy-dog eyes, something both him and Stacey did to get me to bend to their wishes. It was like having two kids, sometimes. I just could not be mad at that face.
“Ugh, it’s fine,” I said reluctantly. “What is in there?”
His eyes widened as he pulled out a long red dress with golden embellishments on the hem and neckline. I went forward to touch and it was the softest fabric I had ever laid my eyes upon. I didn’t know what to say or how to react. I should be angry, I did tell him I already had clothes! It was very presumptuous and quite frankly, disrespectful of him to just buy a fancy-looking dress, as though whatever I owned could in no way be good enough for an event where I accompanied him.
I really should be angry.
Which is why the sense of relief I felt made me feel uncomfortable. The truth was I didn’t have appropriate clothes, and even if I had gotten the chance to go shopping, something like this dress was simply not in my budget. Whatever I bought was not going to be good enough for this event, as proven by the immaculate garment I was now holding in my hand. Maybe he should have just taken someone who he knew could afford to dress in a way that suits him. I felt a little bitter again, but then thought of the last few hours of anxiety over my wardrobe and tried to accept this, be grateful. And I could always return it to him after the event! Maybe that would be tacky. It was either return it now and never wear it, or just take his gift and deal with it.
“There is more,” Nick said, watching me gaze into space.
“More what?”
“Jewelry and a note.”
I grunted. I grabbed the note from Nick’s reluctant hands:
Dear Aria,
I could care less if you showed up in torn jeans. Or better yet, nothing at all. But the spy I have recruited at your quarters alerted me of trouble you were having deciding on attire. So I had to step in. Don’t feel pressured to wear it though. I don’t know much about women’s fashion, just thought this would nicely contour your perfect figure.
See you at eight!
-Zayden
“Stacey!” we both screamed at the same time. She was supposed to be sleeping but if she had the energy to discuss my clothing with Zayden, she had the energy to explain it to me. She walked out of her room looking rather sick. I knew she was only trying to help me because that’s what best friends do, but I wasn’t going to let her go without a hard time, because that is also what best friends do.
“Oh wow, what a beautiful dress!” she exclaimed, looking at me. “You went shopping without me?”
So innocent. She should join the CIA.
“I know what you did.” I gave her a sharp look.
“Yes, we know, Stace!” Nick was giving her the exact same look.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she said to me and then looked at Nick and added, “And why do you look bothered?”
Nick looked like he considered it for a second and frowned. “I’m not really sure. It seemed like the right thing to do.”
Stacey laughed. “You’re ridiculous. Can you make me some tea?”
Nick was off to do his bidding and I was left to confront Stacey. I opened my mouth to begin a long-winded lecture but ended up bursting into a fit of laughter. Stacey joined me and after about five minutes of this, I was finally able to speak again.
“How did you even do it, Stace? Did you just randomly dial his number and go ‘hey, guess what, I have the flu and Aria doesn’t have a dress?’”
She bit her lip. “Email. We are on emailing basis.”
“How?”
“His email is on the company’s website.”
I sighed. “Why are you doing this?”
“Because I love you, you idiot,” she said, looking at me like I was crazy. “In my defense, he wasn’t supposed to rat me out. Tell your boyfriend he owes me one.”
“He’s not my boyfriend, you know that,” I sounded way too disappointed saying those words for my own liking so I cleared my throat and added with a firmer tone, “He’s just some playboy who is too used to getting what he wants and thinks all of this is a game.”
I wasn’t sure I believed my own words by this point. He was a playboy and this was a game; there was no doubt about it and he made no efforts to hide it. But somehow along the way, I had come to believe that he was actually a decent person. I couldn’t admit this to Stacey, though. I couldn’t even admit it to myself really. The better I thought of him, the more likely it became that I would get hurt when all of this was over, and I could not consciously do that to myself.
“A playboy who is playing games and for some mysterious reason makes you happy,” Stacy said after a few minutes, as though considering how wise it was to communicate that with me.
“What do you mean?” I raised my eyebrows.
“You are happy.”
“I am not any more or any less happier than I was before this contract.”
At least, I didn’t think I was! Not that I would ever describe myself as a particularly joyful person – but it was difficult to be when paying yourself through college, working crazy hours and having to worry about taking care of your mother financially.
“Aria, you know how much I love you, but you have been kind of miserable for a year now. Since that douchebag cheated on you.”
“I have not been miserable,” I said defensively.
“You kind of have, though,” she said while looking at the floor. “I barely saw you during the day cause you buried yourself in work and at night you would just turn on the T.V. and drift into your own thoughts. Ever since Zayden started hitting on you, you joke and laugh and have fun again! It’s like he gave me the old Aria back.”
“Stacey, if it was bothering you so much, why didn’t you say anything all year?”
“No, you are taking the wrong thing out of this. I was worried about you, Aria. I didn’t know what I could do for you. Nick and I spent so much time trying to play matchmaker for you behind your back, cause we thought dating would make you have some fun, feel better. But you never had the time so we were always too afraid to bring it up. Then one day you came home and told us your new boss was flirting with you and there has been a kind of slow and awesome progress since then.”
I was stumped. Really? Really? No. No way.
“Could you maybe for a second consider the possibility that I was doing better emotionally all on my own and it had nothing to do with some man’s pretend affection?”
Hurt was bubbling up inside me and I started tearing up a little. I wasn’t sure why this was bothering me so much, but it was. If I seemed happier, Zayden had nothing to do with it, and the fact that my very best friend thought that it did made me feel sick.
“Whatever you want to tell yourself, Aria,” she sounded like she was getting just as frustrated. “All I saw was my best friend getting happier and I did what I thought was best for her. You obviously feel differently so I promise to back off. I’ll remove Zayden from my email contacts. I don’t feel well so I’m going to go lay down for a bit. Have fun at your date and call me if you need anything.”
With that said, she walked back into her room, as tears started pouring down my face. There was no way I would wear the stupid dress now.
CHAPTER 8
ZAYDEN
I had never been to the neighborhood before and was surprised to see apartments cramped together so closely.
“Ned,” I rolled down the screen of the limo I had chosen for the night. “Is this the ghetto?” I joked.
I could swear I heard a chuckle but Ned was clever enough to turn it into a cough. “No, sir. Definitely not the ghetto. This is just a college neighborhood, mostly resided by students, who are on quite a budget.”
“Ah,” I said. I wondered if I should offer to let Aria rent one of my houses. She would never accept that for free, but maybe if I let her pay as much as she was paying for one of these places…
Why the fuck was I worrying about her living arrangements?
“Here we are,” Ned said parking next to a three-storied apartment building.
The lights were on in the third floor and I vaguely remembered Aria mentioning that she was in the top floor of her building. So that had to be it.
“I don’t know what to do now, Ned.”
He looked back at me with concern. “Are you nervous?”
“Don’t be ridiculous!” I exclaimed. “Why on earth would I be nervous? I just am not sure whether to walk in or call her.”
“Just walk up to her floor and ring the doorbell.”
“Ah, right, the doorbell!” I laughed.
I walked into the building and looked for the elevator; finding none, I grunted my way upstairs. She’d better be in the third floor after the workout. Damn the flowers, I had forgotten the flowers in the car. I was not going to run downstairs and right back up just for that.
I rang the doorbell and was surprised to be welcomed by an extremely tall gentleman wearing horn-rimmed glasses.
“Who are you?” I asked feeling slightly annoyed. What was a man doing in her house?
“Who are you?” he laughed. “Just kidding, come in Zayden, everyone in a 50 mile radius of Atlanta knows who you are.”
“I am not sure this is the right place.” I looked at the guy quizzically. Could it be her brother, maybe? Unlikely, they looked too different.
“No, of course you’re in the right place, come on in, Aria is just getting ready.”
I guess I was in the right place after all. “Are you her brother?” I asked the tall guy.
“No, I’m Nick,” he said, as though that clarified his relationship to her.
“And you are here because…?”
“I live here,” he glared at me. “With my girlfriend.”
That sent a wave of fury through my whole body, as though someone very close had stabbed me in the front. Aria was his girlfriend! She had told me she was single, had she lied? Had she made up the whole story for money? Wait, if she really was such a scheming bitch, she would be smarter than to have her boyfriend hovering around the apartment when I was due. And he didn’t mind that she was going out on a date with me?
“And you’re… okay with this?” I asked Nick.
“With what?”
“My deal with Aria,” I said, assuming he knew.
He shrugged. “I mean it’s pretty unorthodox, but hey, you’re helping her out and that makes you a pretty awesome dude. Why wouldn’t I be okay with this?”
What kind of sick and convoluted world had I walked into? Was I growing old? Were college kids this casual with exchanging their partners now days? It seemed like a cool concept, on the one hand. To have one’s cake and eat it too. But on the other hand, why even bother to make a commitment to one person if straying was expected and accepted? From a epistemological standpoint it simply seemed like a waste of time. They could just do what I do and sleep around. I shook my head in confusion and was looking around the house when Aria walked out of her room. Seeing her, I temporarily forgot that I was upset at her for lying about being single. I forgot about Nick. I forgot about everything. I barely even noticed that she had defiantly decided not to wear the dress I had sent her – and I’d have been foolish to expect otherwise anyway – because right now she looked better than a starry night’s sky. She was wearing a green one-piece dress that came right above her ankles, with a low-cut neck that contoured her breasts to perfection, and a cream-colored blazer on top of it. It wasn’t very immaculate, as far as attires go, but she accessorized it beautifully with a silver pendant, her hair tied up into a classy bun, and her make-up accentuated with deep red lipstick to match her hair. I was almost glad that she had chosen not to wear what I had sent.
“Hi,” she smiled serenely at me. “You find the place okay?”
“Yes,” I smiled back at her. “Well, Ned did. Should we get going?”
“Sure.” She waltzed over and grabbed my arm with a soft touch. Before we walked out of the apartment, she told Nick, “I will probably be back late, tell your girlfriend if she asks, I am not entirely sure we’re on speaking terms right now. See ya, Nick!”
My initial reaction was to grunt at the very sight of her talking to him but about three seconds later it registered: she was referring to Nick’s girlfriend in third person, which meant that it couldn’t possibly be her. The rush of relief that ran through my veins was overwhelming.
Why did I care so much? I had screwed many girls that were in relationships.
“So Nick is not your boyfriend?” I couldn’t help myself from asking.
She burst out laughing. “You thought Nick was my boyfriend? Oh God.” She laughed for a couple of more minutes before adding, “Didn’t I tell you I was single?”
I shrugged. “You could be lying. People lie all the time.”
“Speaking from experience, huh?”
“I have never lied… to you,” I looked straight into her eyes. That wasn’t quite true, as I had lied to her about my interaction with Wilson, the loan officer. She didn’t need to know that, though. And it’s not like it was a lie that hurt her in any way. She was still getting the money she needed, and I was getting what I wanted: a chance to seduce her. If she ever found out – and I couldn’t think of any way she would – she wouldn’t exactly be able to be mad. However, knowing her, she would find a reason to be furious about it. The thought of it gave me weird pangs in my chest. As we hopped into the car, I tried hard not to let my thoughts drift in that direction again.
“These are for you,” I handed her the purple orchids I had forgotten in the car.
“Thanks!” She seemed pleased with my flower selection this time around.
“A drink for the ride?” I asked, producing the same bottle of champagne from our dinner a few nights ago that she had enjoyed so much.
Her face lit up upon recognizing the drink. “You shouldn’t have gone through all that trouble.”
She actually thought I was trying.
“Yeah I should have. How else would I get that look to appear on your face?” I grinned. “But I have to be honest, I didn’t have to do anything at all to acquire the bottle.”
She laughed. “Yes, yes, I am aware of you and your rich ways. Which reminds me, am I dressed up to standards for your Gala? I’m returning you the dress you sent.”
“Of course you are,” I shook my head, but with a smile. “Like I said in my note, I wouldn’t have cared if you came in ripped jeans. But to answer your question, you look more beautiful tonight than I have ever seen you.”
Her face got pink as she mumbled thank you. “You look pretty good too,” she said looking out the window.
“Are you talking to someone in the street?” I teased.
She looked me in the eye this time. “You are a very handsome. I am really looking forward to spending this evening with you,” she spoke softly.
I was startled by those words, not at all expecting her to be so solemnly candid in showing signs of affection. Okay, maybe it wasn’t quite affection, but some admiration had to be lingering somewhere if she was willing and excited to spend an evening with me. That made me very enthusiastic, so much so that I almost wanted to skip the whole evening and just spend it with her, however she wanted.
I was becoming weak.
---
“What exactly is this auction for?” Aria asked, as we walked in almost holding hands. We were brushing our fingers against each other’s, which made me feel all kinds of desires. It also scared the shit out of me because I had never come close to holding a girl’s hand after my ex.
“For cancer research,” I said and nervously added: “I forgot to mention, I will be giving a speech on behalf of the organizers. Usually I ignore speaking arrangements, but I love this cause and the non-profit hosting this probably gets the highest percentile of my yearly donations.”
She put a hand on my shoulder. It was definitely affection this time. “You’re an amazing guy.”
“I’m alright,” I said with a straight face.
“Nope, really amazing. I look forward to your speech. I will be embarrassing and whistle and make you wish you had never-“
“Zayden!” An old, balding man approached me. “How are you doing, my boy?”
“Hi Mr. Kirk, I’m doing good. It’s nice to see you!” I looked at Aria and pointed, “This is Ms. Aria Roberts, my date for the night.” Then I looked at Mr. Kirk. “Aria, Mr. Kirk is one of our oldest business partners, and when my dad was alive, one of his best friends.”
Upon hearing those words, Aria wrapped her hand around mine and I felt her warm, soft skin.
Mr. Kirk’s face lit up. “Wow, what a beautiful girl! What do you do, dear?”
She looked nervous. “I am finishing up college, studying to be a loan officer. I also work at the bank.”
“That’s great,” Mr. Kirk said, with much less enthusiasm and started walking away. I had never quite taken someone plain to a public event like this. Sure, I fucked all the young women that worked for me, but that was usually confined to the walls of my own house; I never dared take a teller out to a coveted event like this one.
These things were boring beyond belief though, and her company, with her snarky humor and challenging attitude, would provide a lot of entertainment. I enjoyed having her around.
“I think you’re being judged pretty hardcore right now,” Aria looked at me with amusement.
“You aren’t… offended?”
She laughed. “Why should I be? I am sure he’s used to seeing you with supermodels. Everyone is. It is quite amusing watching people’s reaction. I never quite realized this before, but messing with rich people is fun.”
“Fucking rich people is even better,” I winked.
“Okay I practically led you to that one,” she shrugged. “What does a girl have to do to get a drink around here?”
“I’ll grab one for you,” I said and started walking but remembered something. “You’re not twenty-one.”
“Meh, it’s just a matter of a few months, nobody will care.”
“I hear it’s impossible to get a comfortable king-sized bed in jail,” I retorted.
She rolled her eyes. “Fine, if it’s such a big deal-”
“I’m teasing you. Champagne okay?”
“Grab me a beer,” she grinned. “Let’s see how your acquaintances will react to a working-class girl who also shamelessly drinks beer at a classy event.”
I chuckled. “You are crazy. I don’t think they even have beers at this thing. I can ask Ned to-“
“It’s okay, you don’t have to make everything happen at the snap of your fingertips. Get me anything you want.” She put her hand on my shoulder again and smiled. Her touches were distracting.
I returned with two glasses of red wine and handed her one. “So I have to make a speech in like five minutes, you think you’re going to be okay on your own for a little bit?”
“Of course not. Oh wait, I’m not a five-year-old that needs constant adult supervision,” she pulled out her tongue. “Break a leg.”
“Don’t interrupt my speech if you need anything. You’re on your own. We can always screw later.”
She covered her face with both her hands. “Zayden, go make your big important speech.”
CHAPTER 9
ARIA
I took a huge gulp of my wine as Zayden proceeded to the mini-stage that had been crafted in the middle of the room. It was a very interesting taste; bitter, but rich enough to make my whole mouth feel like velvet. I was already starting to get a bit buzzed from a few sips. I looked at Zayden adjusting the mic and took a deep breath. The plain black suit fit his lean body immaculately, and the dark blue shirt made his eyes pop. His skinny black tie was slightly loose and I wondered how it would feel to undo it. And then his shirt. Aria, focus. I slapped my own forehead and frowned, trying hard to pay attention to the words now coming out of his mouth, rather than his mouth itself and just how succulent his lips looked.
“As many of you know, I lost my grandfather to cancer,” Zayden was saying. The room was utterly silent, every pair of eyes concentrating on him, as though he was reciting the next set of global constitution. What must it feel like, commanding any room you walk into? Someday, I would find out. I may never make it to Zayden’s status – I wasn’t born with the right set of luck in order to get there – but someday I would become successful enough to have a room full of people care about what I am saying.
“It was my complete honor to sponsor this gala, and I want to thank you all so much for your generous contributions to this truly wonderful cause.” It was obvious that this truly meant something to him, that he actually cared. There was a rumor around the office that he turned down an offer to speak at a local TED talk, so the fact that he was willing to come over here and take the time to address these people for the sake of cancer research was oddly heartwarming. He was definitely a much better person that he led himself and everyone else to believe. As he spoke with passion and intensity, I began to feel a very uncomfortable knot in my chest. It was a knot of feelings beginning to develop. I always thought he was attractive, but that’s simply an objective fact; he was attractive like the sky is blue, and I was also certainly very grateful for all that he did for me. But somehow, it was beginning to feel like there was more, like I appreciated him for who he was outside of who he was with me.
I was in trouble.
When he finished his speech there was an applause that lasted for minutes. People were cheering him on and screaming his name.
“Now let me invite Ms. Cameron Elizabeth, the head organizer of tonight’s grand event, to begin the auction,” Zayden said and stepped aside to speak with an older blonde women on the stage. I was surprised to feel a tap on my shoulder, since I didn’t really know anyone else at the party. I turned around to find Mr. Kirk smiling at me.
“That speech was quite something, huh?” He asked.
“Absolutely! Zayden is passionate and a wonderful speaker.”
“I’m sure you think so,” he shrugged in a way that made me uncomfortable. “How much is he paying you anyway?”
“Excuse me?” I felt a fit of rage begin to spread inside me.
“I’ll write you a blank check to fill in as you please for one night. But I have some very specific requests. Things not every girl is comfortable doing. Even though you’re a professional.”
“What the fuck are you talking about?” I was so angry I didn’t even care about my language or creating a scene. “I am not for sale.”
He laughed. “Oh, he’s taught you well. Come on. I have known the kid since he was ten years old, you’re not going to convince me that he’s just taking out a lowly employee because he likes your personality.”
“Actually, that is exactly why I brought her here tonight,” I heard a different voice say. Zayden was standing in front of us and he looked like he was about to commit murder. “And why you should now exit this event. South National will no longer be dealing with your company.”
Kirk’s face turned to a deep shade of purple. “Come on, Zayden! Are you really going to side with a whore?”
“Watch your language or I will have you thrown out of here in a manner that will make it impossible for you to ever show your face in public again. Aria is a beautiful young woman with a deeper intellect at her age than you have acquired in sixty years. I would rather spend the very little free time I have in the company of somebody like her, than do business with some sick bastard who has no respect for another human being. Call her a whore again and my lawyers will ruin you until you’re on the streets. Now get the fuck out.”
People had begun watching and I wanted to draw a hole underneath me and disappear. This must have been embarrassing for him, yet he was fighting for my so called honor, and I was completely paralyzed in shock. The truth was that he was, in fact, paying me, even if it wasn’t exactly for sex. But the fact that he was still supremely offended by Kirk’s behavior made a small part of me ridiculously happy. The rest of me kind of wanted to collapse and never see humanity again.
When we finally left the Gala, every single person was apologizing to me for Kirk’s behavior, and I realized that not all rich people sucked, contrary to what I had convinced myself of. In fact, Zayden seemed to run around circles of some truly nice people. All in all though, the evening ended on a nice note, and by the time we made it back to Zayden’s car, I was tipsy, tired, and in a much better mood than I had expected to be.
“I’m sorry about Kirk again, Aria,” Zayden said once we sat in the car again. “I have known him all my life, but he’s never acted so sleazy before. I wouldn’t have introduced him to you if I knew he was going to act that way.”
I gently put my hand over his and he started to move his fingers against mine, causing an internal volcano to begin popping in my system.
“You don’t have to apologize. I feel terrible about creating a scene. I am sure you didn’t come in here today thinking ‘Hey, guess what would be fun? If I had to insult one of my business partners on behalf of my date and cause for a whole dramatic production.’” I laughed.
He lifted both our hands and put his arm around me. “I have never in my life used this word to describe a girl before, but Aria Roberts, you are really amazing.”
He must have thought calling me amazing was somehow amusing since that’s what I had called him.
I giggled. “How long have you been practicing to say that?”
“Since I read your paper. It was… amazing.”
“Amazing. You’re…amazing too.” We were both gazing into each other’s eyes at this point and I barely knew what I was even saying. “Very, very amazing.”
He removed his hand from mine and lightly brushed his index finger against my cheek, the effects of which I felt across my whole body. He was leaning in and I gazed at his perfect mouth and wondered if he would taste like whiskey. As soon as our lips slightly touched, however, I jerked away. A few seconds later I got the courage to look at him.
“I’m sorry,” I said. “I’m sorry, Zayden. I can’t. I just…”
“It’s okay,” he said and looked away from me, without any hint of disappointment in his voice. “I know you don’t want to and I shouldn’t have-”
“It’s not that I don’t want to,” I blurted before I could stop myself. It was too late to take it back now. “Whenever I am around you, it’s difficult to breathe. And all I want in the whole world is to let you win and feel the taste of your mouth and to touch you and let you do whatever you want to me.”
He didn’t speak for almost a few minutes. Then he said, “The screen isn’t sound-proof, Ned can hear you.”
“No I can’t,” I heard Ned say, and then I felt absolutely mortified.
“The point that I have been trying to make – sorry Ned – is that it’s not that I don’t want to, it’s that I can’t. And I’m sorry.”
Zayden sighed like he didn’t care. “Don’t be. It’s your stop. I’ll see you on Monday. Sleep well, Aria. Thanks again for coming out with me tonight.”
I couldn’t bring myself to get out of the car for the longest time. I finally forced myself to say, “No, thank you, for everything.” Then I ran out of there as fast as I could.
I didn’t sleep well that night. I didn’t sleep at all.
---
On Monday morning I was woken up by a phone call from my mom.
“It’s 5 a.m. Mom,” I mumbled on to the phone. “Can I call you back?”
“I’m sorry for waking you up, sweetheart, I just wanted thank you for the 10,000 dollars that you paid to the hospital on my behalf. I’m glad your loan went through.”
Wait, what was she talking about? My loan never – Oh. I sat upright, suddenly understanding.
“It was paid?” I asked stupidly.
“Of course, from your name.”
“I know, I meant to ask if it went through alright. I’ll call you later okay, mom? Don’t worry about it too much, I got you. Love you!”
I dialed Zayden’s office number and immediately hung up remembering what time it was. It would just have to wait until I got to work. I couldn’t believe what he had done. I felt a sense of warmth and affection throughout my whole body.
The contract was real.
I tried going back to sleep but spent the next few hours thinking of him and just how underrated he was as a person. I had expected him to be upset with me, given the rejection from Saturday night. He hadn’t tried to get in contact with me all of Sunday and I assumed he was miffed. Instead, he had decided to go on and make the first payment early. And the way he had fought for me at the gala. Perhaps I had judged him unfairly, but I would never think he would jump to defend me against his own kind. His business and reputation, I assumed, were way more important than some girl he was trying to seduce, yet I was wrong, as I seemed to be on many accounts when it came to Zayden. I would have to find something nice to do for him, soon. For the first time in a long time, I could not wait to get out of bed and get to work.
Which is why I was very disappointed when I got to work and Zayden was not in his office. He usually got there before everyone else, and I was convinced that he slept in his office most days. I wondered if everything was okay. I thought about writing him an email and drafted something:
Hi,
I wanted to thank you in person but you seem to be out today. I hope everything is okay. My mom called me about the hospital payment and I wanted to thank you for going ahead with that way earlier than our contract demanded. And for sticking up for me in front of Mr. Kirk the other day. It meant more to me than you ever imagined.
So I was thinking, about that pizza, beer and Netflix thing, do you want to come over some day this week?
I would love for you to join me…
No, not that word. I would “like.” I went ahead and scratched the whole email off. I had to tell him in person.
The day got more and more agonizing, as I kept my eyes straight on the door, waiting for him to walk in, with increasing disappointment. At five, I made a final glance, at this point assuming there was no way he would show up at work, but I still couldn’t help but feel utterly disappointed. I didn’t work on Tuesdays and waiting until Wednesday to see him would be too unbearable. I started packing up as slowly as I physically could, while everyone else began walking out of the office. What was I expecting? The day was over, he wasn’t coming. And maybe I had something to do with it. Maybe if I hadn’t pulled away the other day... Ugh. I didn’t owe him anything physical.
But I wanted to so bad, so what was I even fighting for? Right now I couldn’t think of a single reason why I wasn’t in Zayden’s arms.
Trudging out of the office, I wondered if I could skip some classes to come to work tomorrow. As soon as I got to my car, however, I saw Zayden’s silver BMW pull in and my heart jumped. I stood there, feeling completely paralyzed, and when he got out of the car I could barely keep up with what I was doing.
I ran to him as fast as I could and planted a kiss squarely on his lips. He stepped back for a second looking completely startled and as Ned started driving away, he pulled me towards him and kissed me. His hands were on my face and when his mouth began to part mine, I forgot everything about the world. His tongue entered my mouth and started exploring, and one of his hands were now on my back, almost lifting me up. I tried to kiss him back with everything I had but it wasn’t enough, I wanted more, I wanted every bit of him. His hand was now inside the back of my dress, grabbing my ass firmly, and I felt like I could explode from that sensation alone. It felt like an eternity when we finally broke apart, gasping for air.
“It’s nice to see you too, Aria,” he grinned at me. I was still trying to remember how to breathe.
“I-” I tried to speak. I had never realized how difficult that process could be. My eyes were still on his mouth. “I wanted to thank you. About the payment. And about Kirk. And I wanted to-”
He cut me off with another electrifying kiss. He tasted like expensive scotch, just like I had imagined; a little smoky, and the faintest hint of sweet. When his mouth left mine and he proceeded to kiss the side of my neck, I couldn’t take it anymore.
“Let’s take this inside,” I heard myself saying.
We were completely intertwined, yet somehow we made it inside his office. He shoved me against the glass door and continued exploring my neck with his warm tongue, making circles with kisses. I was about to pass out already when he lifted my skirt and lightly brushed his fingers against my pussy, and I let out a loud moan.
He broke apart. “Is everything okay?” There was concern in his face.
“Huh?” Keep going. Just do whatever you were doing, Zayden. Don’t stop. I wanted to convey that with my eyes. “Everything is… perfect,” were the only words I could manage.
“Listen, Aria,” he said sincerely. “As much as I want to rip apart that dress of yours and fuck you mindless, I have to ask: are you sure about this?”
“You know what it looks like when I don’t want it,” I said, boldly removing the top part of my dress, revealing a red lacy bra. “This is obviously not it.”
“I know,” he said, his eyes now fixated on my bra. “I know you want it right now. But you’re a fucking virgin and I don’t do virgins normally. But I’m willing to taste your pussy.”
The way he said that made me want to jump on him and straddle him until he felt the inside of what he liked to call my pussy.
“I am not a virgin,” I told him. “I told you that to scare you off.”
Those words were exactly what he needed to hear because he proceeded to then actually rip off the rest of my dress off my body and kiss me again, this time with full force, thrusting his tongue deep inside my mouth. Then he picked me up and took me to the giant couch in office. Taking his shirt off without his eyes leaving mine, he said, “As much as I want to take you right now, you’ve made me wait too long, Aria Roberts. I am going to make every minute count and torment you until you’re begging for my cock.”
Those were the most thrilling words I had ever heard. I was already ready to beg and plead, but he didn’t need to know that. I wanted to feel the torment he was promising.
When he threw his shirt on the floor, I was surprised to find that his body was even more perfect than I had imagined. Not bulky, but lean and muscular, with a perfect six-pack that I longed to touch. I tried to reach out to do so when he grabbed my hand and shook his head. “Not so easy.”
His eyes were burning with desire, as he leaned down and began working on my neck again. This time his hands were cupping my breasts over my bra and I was glad when I felt him unhook it and throw it over my head. He then gently squeezed my bare nipple, and I felt a storm bubble up inside me. His other hand was playing with my panties, not quite touching the clit, but teasing me with flicks and brushes. Slowly, his kisses started progressing downwards and before I knew it, his mouth was on my breast, licking it softly with his tongue. The pressure increased ever so slowly and it felt like forever before he was fully sucking it, leading me to moan his name at the top of my lungs.
“You fucking like that, huh?” he breathed, breaking off and looking at me with stern eyes. “How about this, then?”
He moved his mouth down my bare torso and stopped right outside my panties. “Has anyone ever tasted your sweet pussy?”
I shook my head no. Was he about to? Oh my god.
With one swift motion, my panties were down to my ankles, revealing a part of me that no man had ever directly seen before. I was glad I had gotten into the habit of shaving it off at a young age, momentarily embarrassed about how it would look if I hadn’t.
I couldn’t control my crazy thoughts.
He licked his lips as he parted me and rubbed his thumb against my clit. I felt like a volcano ready to erupt again and when his mouth made contact, it was a burst of pleasure like I had never felt before. I tried to focus on my breathing but it got increasingly difficult as he sucked on my clit while licking the rest. When I felt his tongue enter, I lost all control. A shiver ran through my whole body and I felt myself contracting into a single bubble of pleasure that seemed to last forever. “Zayden,” I managed to moan, but he didn’t stop sucking and licking until I started shaking uncontrollably.
When he finally looked at me, I was barely lucid. “Sweet. Just like I imagined.”
“Fuck me.” I could barely speak two words, so those had to be it. “Please,” I managed to add.
I never thought I would have to beg a guy.
That was all the encouragement he needed. He tugged down his pants, revealing a huge penis that was pointing firm in my direction. I trembled with excitement over the thought of being filled up by him completely. He approached me, and parted the lips of my pussy. At first he just rubbed the tip of his penis over my clit, tormenting me with longing. He took his free hand’s index finger and proceeded to wipe it between my pussy lips. Then he licked each finger entirely. Looking straight into my eyes, he said, “You are so fucking wet. How bad do you want this huge cock to fuck you?”
“Bad,” I spoke in barely a whisper, flames erupting on my face.
“Say it, say you want me to fuck you with my huge cock.”
Jesus.
“I want you to… fuck me… with your huge cock.” Right now I would sign my own death warrant if he asked me to.
With both his hands over my breasts, he thrust inside me with such force that I let out a tiny moan of pain. After a few motions, the pain was almost entirely gone and replaced by the sensation of his cock filling me up, faster and harder with every passing second. My body was transformed into a volcano once again that in time would be ready to erupt. I found myself matching his rhythm and fucked him back.
He let one of my breasts go and licked the tips of his fingers before reaching down to my aching clitoris. His fingers fiercely massaged it in circles causing my back to arch off the couch. I closed my eyes, looking away from his face that was twisted in a grimace of craving. His one hand tightened around my one breast.
“Watch me fuck you,” he groaned deeply.
I forced my eyes open and let my back fall flat against the couch. I raised up on my elbows and watched him stroking my clit and thrusting inside my aching core. His cock disappeared inside of me over and over. My breathing picked up and when my eyes flickered up I noticed his wasn’t any different. His taut chest and abs were pulled tight. With a body like this he had to spent many hours in the gym every day.
He moved each hand to a different hip, but thumbed my clitoris. As he pumped his cock inside at the fastest pace yet, I arched my back once more to allow earth-shattering lightning to shoot through my body.
“Ahh!” I moaned.
I pulled my knees together not wanting to let go of the feeling. That restricted his cock, so he pressed my knees apart ferociously, completely opening me up to him. He bent over, supporting himself on his elbows. He grabbed a fist of my red hair and tugged my head back while biting my lower lip. I took hold of his muscular ass and could feel it flex under my fingertips with every thrust.
With one final hard thrust he pulled out of me and stroked himself. He grunted louder and louder as his warm fluid sprayed my belly. Then he collapsed on top of me, saying, “Oh God, Aria. Fuck.”
I gently slid my hands up his back, mentally echoing his sentiments, but unable to voice anything at all. My breathing was rapid as I pulled him tighter to my naked body. It was like I had just survived an earthquake. The best earthquake there ever was.
We stayed plastered together and I couldn’t help but hope that he would still fulfill the rest of the contract after giving into him.