by Hamel, B. B.
“Before you walk of out here, listen to my offer,” Rees said. “You’ll regret it if you don’t.”
I opened my mouth to tell him, no, I didn’t think I’d regret getting away from his crazy ass, but I shut it again.
I didn’t have an easy life. My parents died when I was four, and I was raised by my grandmother. But she was old, and she struggled to take care of the both of us. I was on my own a lot, and we didn’t have much. She made barely enough to survive, and I had to put myself through college, and through law school. I was up to my ears in debt, and although grandmom was still alive, she hadn’t been doing well health-wise for some time. I knew the day would come when I’d have to take care of her financially.
Things hadn’t been easy for me, and so I’d learned some hard truths. The most important was this: when rich ass people wanted to give you something, it was sometimes best to shut up and listen.
“I’m listening,” I said.
“We’re going public in one month,” he said. “Because of Giana, several of my key investors pulled out, and now I’m left scrambling. I need some big money before we go public. Otherwise, the stock price will be cheap, and other investors might think twice about getting involved. I need to court new money, and I need to do it fast. That’s where you come in.”
“I should leave for this,” Jack said, interrupting. He stood and gave me a long look, clearly torn about something. “Millie, I’m sorry about whatever he’s going to say, and please don’t think it reflects the rest of this company. And please, please don’t sue us.” He walked out, shoulders slumped forward, and I almost felt sorry for him. He must’ve spent the majority of his life cleaning up after Rees’s messes, and based on this short meeting, there were probably a lot.
I sank back into my chair and crossed my arms, lips pursed, suddenly very aware that I was alone with Rees in this conference room, with the door shut the blinds drawn.
“Five million,” Rees said, drawing my attention back. “If you help me, pretend to be my assistant and help spread some rumors that we’re happily dating, and have been for quite some time, I’ll pay you five million dollars.”
I let that sink in.
Five million. That would change my life. I could pay off my debt and take care of grandmom during her last years. I could provide her any comfort she wanted and then some, and still have money left for myself. It was the sort of thing I dreamed of, back when I was a little girl, when we were poor and struggling, and I wore all second-hand clothes that either didn’t fit right, or were way out of fashion. I dealt with the bullying and the teasing, pushed into the mud because of my cheap, patched jeans and my off-brand sneakers, and sometimes I’d sit along in my room and stare out the window, picturing some rich man, a knight in shining armor.
And here he was, my rich man, my knight in shining armor, except he was a total asshole, and I knew this was a really, really bad idea.
I mean, seriously, a terrible idea.
But five million dollars.
But Rees was a dick and he wanted me to lie to investors.
Pretty sure that could land us both in jail. And I should know, being an almost-lawyer and all.
But five million dollars, and grandmom.
“Pay off my student loans,” I said.
He tilted his head. “You’re negotiating.”
“And I want a three percent stake in your SPAC.”
“You’re really negotiating.” He grinned at me, and seemed delighted, which I didn’t understand. I was pushing him for more money, since now I knew his plan, and I could screw him if I wanted. And yet he didn’t seem to mind one bit.
“Five million, pay off my student loans, and a three percent stake in this SPAC, and I’ll do it,” I said, putting as much confidence into my voice as I could manage.
He watched me, and the silence felt as thick as the carpet. I was insane and I knew it. If this went wrong, so much could happen: we could go to jail, or get sued to smithereens, or both our reputations could be destroyed, or any number of equally horrifying endgames. I could just take the freaking bar and become a lawyer. That would be so much simpler, and there was way less risk.
And yet I knew this was the right thing to do.
I needed the money. My grandmom needed help. And this was my best bet, short of taking the stinking bar and working myself to death in some big law firm.
“You have a deal,” he said, stood up, and shoved his hand out at me.
I stood and met his eye. I honestly couldn’t believe this was happening. He hadn’t even tried to talk me down. Handsome man, evil, handsome man. I knew what handsome men could do: whatever they wanted.
And I liked that.
I shook his hand. “What am I now?” I asked, meaning, was I his assistant, or his fake girlfriend?
He held my hand tight, and pulled me slightly off balance. I took one step toward him, and he leaned forward. I caught his scent: wood smoke and potpourri.
“You’re my everything now, darling,” he said with a wicked grin.
I took my hand away and gathered my things as he sat again, running his hands through his hair. I blushed like a stupid school girl and mentally berated myself for it. If I was going to get involved with Rees like this, I couldn’t let one simple sentence melt my freaking panties like it was no big deal.
“Jack will get the paperwork together,” Rees said. “I assume you can deal with the contract.”
“I think I can handle it,” I said.
“It might be useful, having another lawyer around.” He tilted his head thoughtfully. “You can keep me out of trouble and do paperwork.
“I doubt I can manage that. And I’m not interested in reading your contracts.”
“I’m sure you’d rather we got into trouble together instead,” he said.
I clenched my jaw tight, and considered telling him to shove that smarmy grin up his puckered butt.
Instead, I reminded myself: five million, student loans, three percent, and grandmom.
“I’ll speak with Jack,” I said, and left the conference room before my heart could burst out of my chest and splatter against the glass. That’d probably ruin my chances of getting through all this alive.
In the hall, alone for a few seconds, I leaned up against the wall and bit my tongue to keep from screaming.
Lori, damn her, she had no clue what she just got me into.
And hopefully one day I’d thank her.
Or I’d call her crying from a jail cell.
2
Rees
My new employee lived in a shit hole apartment deep in south Philly.
I stood on her stoop and leaned up against the black hand railing. It was early, just after seven, and the sun peered up over the brick rowhomes. An old couple walked their tiny white dog, and a girl with a backpack hustled down the black toward the subway.
I hoped Millie wouldn’t mind me appearing like this. But then again, I didn’t really care.
It’d been three days since I last saw her during the job interview. In that time, she’d gone over the contracts with Jack, made some changes on some minor language, and signed. Now, officially, she was mine to do with whatever I pleased.
Not exactly, but close enough anyway.
We had a lot to do and we were already running out of time. Twenty-seven days until the IPO, and we needed more money than was reasonably feasible on that timeline. And yet I had to pull it off—if I didn’t, this SPAC would crumble, and my reputation would take a blow I wasn’t sure I’d ever recover from. Millie had negotiated one hell of a deal for herself, and because of that three percent stake in the company, she had incentive to make all of this work.
I appreciated that. I wished I thought of it myself, but the girl was smart, I’d give her that.
Lucky Lori sent her my way. Otherwise, I would’ve ended up with one of those blond clones that swarmed my office anytime there was a job opening.
Those girls were banal and predictable, but Millie was so
mething else.
Smart, clearly. Sharp as hell and quick. She’d have to be, considering where she’d come from. I did my research: grew up poor, raised by a grandmother, put herself through undergrad at Penn State, and law school at UPenn. Impeccable grades, great reputation.
And yet she still hadn’t taken the bar exam.
Interesting, very interesting.
I checked my watch again. Seven-thirty. Time to get started.
I took out my phone and called her while pounding on her door. She’d given her number to Jack as part of the contract signing. He insisted this was a terrible idea, and I should start acting more professional, but I wanted to break the ice as soon as I could. Millie and I were about to work very closely together, and if we were going to get away with this lie, we’d have to be comfortable around each other.
I smiled a little to myself—this was probably a bit much, but I couldn’t help it. Call it hazing, or maybe an introduction to what she had in store.
“Yes, hello?” Millie answered the phone.
“Hi, Millie,” I said, still banging on the door.
“Oh, shit, okay, hold on.” She held the phone away, and I heard her yell from inside, “just one second, okay! I’m coming!”
“Are you okay?” I asked. “You sound flustered.”
“Someone’s banging at my door. Where are you? It sounds like you’re next to a construction site.”
“I was calling about your first day,” I said. “Are you coming into the office?”
“Jack told me eight,” she said. “I’m late already? Was he wrong? Okay, hold on a second, I’m so sorry, just, one second.”
She must’ve put the phone down. I smiled to myself and heard her stomp down the steps, then her building’s front door flew open. She looked on the verge of chewing me out— then stopped herself, eyes going wide, as I looked at her shocked lips, then the rest of her.
She wore a tight white t-shirt with a faded Nasa logo and a pair of short black shorts. Her legs were long and pale, lean and muscular, and I guessed she was a runner. Her hair was up in a messy bun, there wasn’t a hint of make up on her face, and god damn, she looked incredible.
“What are you—“ she started, then stopped as she gathered herself. “You’re fucking with me.”
“I thought I’d make your first day memorable.”
Her face turned red. Seriously, bright red. She was absolutely livid, and I deserved her rage. I was being a dick, apparently for no reason—except I always had a reason, even though my methods could be a little much sometimes.
“You can’t show up here like this,” she said, her tone a snarl. “This is so insanely inappropriate. I don’t care what our deal says—we’re not actually dating.”
“You’re right,” I said, and took a step back off her stoop to give her more room. “I’m sorry.”
She worked her jaw as her fingers dug into the wood of the door. My apology took some of the sting out of her face, and I could tell she hadn’t expected it. I tilted my head and did my best charming smile, which generally got me out of most bad situations.
I needed to see if she’d stand up to me. We were about to embark on a seriously insane trip together, and I needed to see if she’d be up for it. If she let me roll over her, and was a blubbering, stuttering mess every time I did something out of the ordinary, if she was unable to call me out on my bullshit, then this wouldn’t work. Nobody would believe that we were dating, and this contract would be for nothing.
“Explain yourself,” she said, crossing her arms. “The knocking. The phone call. What are you doing here?”
“I don’t have time to find out if you’re ready,” I said, and gestured toward her building. “I know this is a little over the top, but I needed to be sure you could handle a stressful situation.”
“And how did I do?” she asked, speaking in a hard clip.
“Wonderfully,” I said, smiling huge. “Now, are you going to invite your boyfriend in for coffee?”
She studied me and I wished I could hear what she was thinking. She looked skeptical, her anger slowly draining, and I wouldn’t have been insulted if she told me to fuck off and sent me back to the office. In fact, I probably deserved it.
But again, we didn’t have time for that.
“Come on,” she said, nodding. “I don’t have anything fancy.”
“Don’t worry, I’m pretty easy to please.”
She rolled her eyes. “I truly doubt that.”
Her apartment was on the ground floor in the back of the building. It was neat and orderly, though cramped. Small kitchen, tight living room, bedroom and bathroom toward the back. Everything was decorated in shades of blue and gray, and she had a stack of lawyer books next to the couch: bar exam study guides, history of case law, and a treatise on supreme court hearings. It looked like truly riveting stuff.
She put some Folger’s in her drip machine and let it run. I sat on a stool and leaned my elbows against the counter. Her kitchen was neat and orderly, which was a good sign. If we were going to get through this, it would be best if she were organized. I figured, being a lawyer meant she likely had some skills that would transfer over to our little endeavor, but I couldn’t be sure. Seeing her apartment was part of my goal this morning: I wanted to get a better sense of how she lived.
“Nice place,” I said.
“It’s the best I can afford.”
“I meant it.” I tilted my head. “You’re going to interpret everything I say as some kind of attack, aren’t you?”
“After you’ve banged on my door and called me, just to freak me out, then yeah, probably.”
“Fair enough,” I said, as she turned to open the refrigerator. She bent down slightly, and I got a good view of her ass. Pretty on top of being smart. She was attractive enough that people would believe I’d given up my bachelorhood for her, which was a prerequisite to all this. When Lori told me she had a hot friend that could help, I was admittedly skeptical.
But Lori was right: Millie was hot as hell.
She turned back around with a tub of orange juice. She didn’t offer me any as she poured herself a glass then leaned against the counter next to the coffee makers, eyeing my warily the whole time.
“You keep staring at me,” she said.
“I have to admit, I didn’t expect you to come out wearing so little clothing.”
She blushed, which was cute as hell. I knew I was being a dick, and a little pushy, but I had to get past all this awkwardness and try to force some intimacy.
“Not like I had a choice,” she said. “I don’t sleep in a pant suit.”
“It’s a good thing. We’re supposed to be dating, remember?”
“You’re probably going to ask to see me naked next.” She arched an eyebrow and drank her juice as the coffee machine gurgled.
“That sounds like a good idea,” I mused.
“It’s not,” she said. “And you can’t.”
“I understand your position, but think of it this way. We’re committing perjury, or at least we’re misleading investors, which is just as bad. We can get some serious prison time, if this deal ever leaks beyond me, you, and Jack. If we’re going to pull it off, we need to act like we’re actually together, and that means I need to know what you look like naked.”
“You first,” she said, nodding at me. “You want me to strip? You first.”
I shrugged, stood, and started to unbutton my shirt. I didn’t have any body taboos—I was in good shape, well endowed in the nether region, and didn’t mind showing off what I had. I’d been complimented enough in my life to know that women enjoyed looking at me.
Her face turned even redder, which I didn’t think was possible, and she put her glass down, throwing her hands up in the air and waving them. “Okay, stop, stop, stop,” she said. “I’m not stripping. Keep your clothes on.”
I stopped, disappointed. I knew she was bluffing, and calling her bullshit was fun, but still. “It would be nice if we could get thi
s sexual tension lceared up.”
“Oh my god,” she said, rolling her eyes to the ceiling. “There’s no sexual tension.”
“There’s tension,” I said, insisting. “Every time I mention your body, you turn so red I’m afriad you’re having a heart attack.”
“Don’t be a dick,” she said, “but I guess that’s hard for you.”
I smiled a bit. I knew my reputation: it wasn’t great. People thought I was short, rude, and needlessly brusque. I was grumpy, to put it mildly, and that didn’t bother me one bit. I was a no-nonsense kind of guy, and always lived my life trimming out all the excess social niceties that got in the way of real business. I’d been wildly successful over my career, and had no plans to change it.
She just didn’t like that I was pointing out how badly she wanted to fuck me.
“Trust me, there’s tension, and the best thing we can do is to get it over with and out of the way.”
“So, what, you want to sleep with me? Right here and now? Then we can go into the office and talk to Jack?”
“That’d be perfect,” I said, glancing back toward the couch. “We can do it there, or in the bedroom if you prefer, I’m not picky. Shower would be fun, or maybe right here—“
“Rees,” she said, cutting me off, her tone like ice. “I’m not having sex with you. Not now, not ever. I signed up to play my part, to be your nice little assistant, to pretend like we have a relationship, but I’m not really going to bed with you. Do you hear me?”
I looked back at her slowly, eyebrow arched. “I hear a lot of denial. And I still feel the tension.”
“Oh my god, you’re impossible.” She turned away from me, visibly angry, and I couldn’t help but laugh. She was adorable, fighting this as hard as she could, but I wasn’t kidding around. If we could fuck and get it done with, all that tension would be cut—and it’d be a quick way to jumpstart some attachment and intimacy between us.
