“I don’t know, this is a lot to take in.”
“Take some time, think about my offer. If you agree, one simple date could pay your rent for a month.”
“Seriously?” I ask, dumbfounded that she could be offering me that much money.
“Yes,” she says straight faced. “Depending on the length of dinner, assuming it’s just the two people, you could earn a minimum of $500 per hour. Most dinner dates will last at least two hours, sometimes longer. Then you figure in a movie, play, or opera afterwards and your dinner now lasts four to five hours, which means you earn a minimum of $2,000. After the first date, your rate is increased by $100 per hour. After the first month, the rate is increased further. Social or business events have different rate ranges based upon the number of people in attendance, the expectations the client has, and if publicity is required—“
“Publicity?”
“Sometimes, clients want to publically be seen with a date at an event. If this is required, the price is higher because it puts you in newspapers and magazines.”
“I see.”
“All of your expenses are covered, any clothing that is required for dates or events is charged to my account. As you know, I have many accounts at different stores throughout the city; you simply pick out an outfit and charge it to my account. The outfit is yours at the end of the night.”
“So the clients at the store…?”
“Clients and employees, all of them,” she confirms.
“Wow...” I don’t know what else to say.
“Kenzie, take a few days and think about my offer. Think about the doors it could open for you. Think about what you could do with extra money in your pocket every month. My staff have returned to school, are raising children on their own, helping to pay for medical bills for sick family members, or even just paying off debts. Think about what you really want to do with your life. Do you want to work two and three jobs forever?”
“No,” I whisper.
“Here is a contract, take it home and read through it. Call me in two days with a decision. If I don’t hear from you in forty-eight hours, I will have your answer.”
Chapter 6
Kenzie
Holy Shit… holy shit… holy shit.
That’s all I can think about on the cab ride home. Bridget insisted on paying for a cab when she learned I arrived by bus and subway. I don’t mind taking public transportation, but I guess to someone like her, it’s a foreign concept. I can’t imagine what this cab ride must be costing her, since I don’t live remotely close to this area of the city, but when I tried to object, she wouldn’t of hear it. So now I’m sitting in the back of a cab that is weaving in and out of traffic, repeating “holy shit” to myself hundreds of times. I’m holding the folder tightly in my hands, almost afraid to open it to look at the contract that she says is in here. I can’t possibly read a contract when I haven’t even digested what she just told me. As I think about the people on her account that I have shopped for in the last year, I suppose it makes sense. There are girls I dress for formal and business casual events, men who are dressed in suits and fitted tuxes and of course the gentleman who was shopping for a business trip the other day and needed clothes for his “girlfriend.”
“Ma’am, is this the correct address?” The cab driver pulls me from my thoughts.
“Yes,” I confirm after glancing out the window at the graffiti-covered building in front of me.
I thank the cab driver and head up the steps to the entrance of my building just as the cab pulls away. There is a guy drunk, or high, leaning against the door, he’s passed out and doesn’t even move as I approach him. I cringe at the thought of stepping near him, but as I clear my throat to get his attention, he doesn’t even flinch. My hand grips the knife in my purse fiercely as I take a step forward, prepared to defend myself if this low life suddenly moves.
I quickly rush through the door, closing and locking it behind me the moment I enter the stairwell. The door is supposed to be locked at all times, residents are the only ones who should have a key, but of course the door is rarely locked and I’ve seen people who don’t live here entering the building without bothering to ring a bell. Other than a few derogatory comments thrown at me when I first moved in here almost a year ago, for the most part whoever is outside leaves me alone. I still carry the knife in my purse at all times though, because I can never be too careful.
I quickly enter my apartment, shutting and locking the deadbolt behind me as I turn on the lights. It’s nearly ten o’clock, I’m not sure where the night went, but I guess I was at the restaurant a lot longer than I thought. I’m too tired right now to think about what Bridget said or to even consider reading the contract. I have a full day tomorrow, working both jobs, so I need to get to bed soon.
I know I need to find a couple of hours tomorrow to review the information that Bridget sent me and to really process what she told me. My initial thought during dinner was that she was crazy, that there was no way in hell I would consider her offer, that I have too much pride to do what she is suggesting. But as I sit in my crappy apartment, in this shitty neighborhood with no real future ahead of me, I have to admit that I would be crazy to not at least consider her offer.
Despite the neighbors loud arguing next door, I quickly manage to fall asleep, vowing to focus things tomorrow in whatever spare time I might have. I sleep soundly until the alarm buzzing wakes me up several hours later. I’m thankful whenever I sleep through the night… my nightmares have become fewer, but when they hit, they usually prevent me from going back to sleep. On days like today where I have to work both jobs, I’m thankful when I do sleep through the night.
“Good Morning, Kenzie,” Ginny greets me as soon as I walk through the back door of the bakery.
“Morning.”
The morning passes by slowly, unlike most mornings in the bakery. I can’t seem to focus; my mind constantly wanders back to the conversation with Bridget last night. The one thing that continues to stick in my head is the amount of money she was offering to pay me for a couple of hours’ worth of work. Today I will bust my ass, work twelve-plus hours and by the time the day is done, I will have earned around $150 before taxes. Around $150 for twelve hours of work… whereas Bridget is offering me almost five times that amount per hour. Am I stupid for not agreeing to it right away?
I could work only a few nights a month and have all my current bills covered. Add in a few more days, and I would be able to afford a small apartment in a decent area of New York. But what type of job security is there in this type of… business? Would there be enough work to cover my rent every month? What happens if business slows down? Does this type of business slow down?
As the morning wears on, I realize I have far more questions than I thought was possible. The more questions I have, the more I realize that I’m actually at least half way considering this offer. I have to admit the thought of not struggling as much financially is what is driving me to at least think about this and not just say hell no to Bridget. I’ve always wanted to go back to college; I looked into taking online classes years ago, but I was forbidden from doing so. What if this job could pay enough to allow me to begin taking classes again? Bridget said some of her staff were paying their way through college by working for her. Could I do something like that?
“I’ll see you tomorrow, Kenzie,” Ginny calls as I punch out for the day.
“Have a good day, Ginny.”
A subway and bus ride later, I’m back in my crappy apartment eating a bowl of instant noodles cooked on a hot plate for lunch. Not the healthiest option, but when you only have a few extra bucks to spare, crappy food always wins over healthy food. As I wait for my food to cool, I decide to make a list of questions for Bridget.
1) Safety:
How will my safety be ensured?
What kind of background checks are performed on the clients?
Will dates always occur in public places?
What options do I ha
ve if something happens on a date?
2) Communication:
I don’t want clients knowing where I live… how is that handled?
How are the dates set up? Does the client call me directly?
3) Pay:
How many hours per week is typical?
Are there times during the year when business slows down?
Can most girls maintain an average number of hours?
4) Publicity:
How will reporters/press not tie me back to your company?
How do I respond if I’m approached outside of a date and asked how I met someone I was seen with?
5) Clothing:
I don’t believe I can shop where I work. Are there other options?
6) Control:
Will I be able to refuse a date?
As I look over my list of questions, I’m satisfied that I have covered most of the key areas. Question one is a big one for me, I need to ensure that no matter what happens I will be safe at all times. I can’t see myself going to some stranger’s house to meet him for dinner no matter how clean his background check is. I know all too well, things can get left off background checks and sometimes not everything is reported to authorities, even when it should be. I could never trust someone so completely, that I would take them at their word that the person I’m meeting wouldn’t hurt me. Could I ever go to someone’s house alone even, if we went out several times?
I don’t know… I need Bridget to realize that I have more trust issues than most people do, and that’s not something I’m willing to compromise on. Dates in public places I can deal with, there are options. If I felt threatened I would have no problem making a scene to ensure my safety. Given what Bridget has told me about her clients, they would probably be on their best behavior in public because they wouldn’t want to make a scene. Unfortunately, people can put on a great front in public and become the devil in the privacy of their own home, as I’ve learned.
I don’t know much about contracts, but it seems pretty straightforward to me. The contract addresses my communication question: it specifically states all requests for dates must go through Bridget and prohibits staff and clients from setting up their own dates. I like this idea actually—it gives me the opportunity to say no without worrying about hurting the other person’s feelings.
The contract further states that an addendum will be signed for every date. A sample addendum is attached to the contract which again seems pretty straightforward. The addendum lists the rate per hour for the date, the expected length of the date with a note that this may vary, but if it is going to exceed an additional hour, the client is obligated to inform the agency of the change.
It also requires me to list what physical contact I am agreeable to. The options are pretty neutral, which is what I would expect since the contract prohibits any sexual contact. Those include: hand holding, kiss on the cheek, kiss on the lips, hand wrapped around waist, hand on hip, and dancing. I prefer no kissing on the lips, however I could see if a client is trying to show that we are romantically linked they may feel this is necessary. I decide to discuss that with Bridget and determine if it’s something that can be changed after meeting with a client.
While working at the store, I can’t help but look at the clients on Bridget’s contract differently. With my mind somewhat more focused on work than it was this morning, the night goes by faster than I expected. When I’m on break, I decide to call Bridget and see if she is willing to meet again to discuss her proposition.
“Good evening, Kenzie,” she answers on the first ring.
“Hi, Bridget… I hope I have caught you at a good time?”
“Of course, I’m just in between meetings, so I have a few minutes.”
“I was wondering if you would be available to meet to discuss… things further?”
“Let’s see, I’m free around eight tonight?”
“Oh, I’m working right now so tonight won’t work.”
“Ten tomorrow morning?”
“Sorry… working at the bakery tomorrow morning and the store in the evening.”
“Okay, how about we meet for lunch at one tomorrow? I’ll text you the address of a place as soon as I get a reservation scheduled.”
“Thank you, I appreciate your flexibility with my schedule.”
“I look forward to our meeting. Have a good night, Kenzie.”
I feel relieved when I leave work at the end of my shift. I am confident that if Bridget can answer my questions to my satisfaction and guarantee my safety then I will try this whole earn-money-for-pretending-to-be-someone’s-date thing. There are weeks when I work more than sixty hours like some of her customers do, and during those weeks, there is no way I could find the time to date even if I wanted to.
The next morning, I wake up to my phone ringing, which is odd because my alarm is set for four in the morning, so the idea that someone is calling before that awful hour is concerning.
“Hello?”
“Kenzie? Dear, it’s Ginny. Is everything okay?”
“Hmmm… what time is it?”
“Almost six dear… you’re always here—“
“SHIT! Ginny, I’m so sorry, I overslept. I’ll be there as soon as possible.”
I glance at my alarm clock and immediately realize why it didn’t go off… apparently I have no power. I quickly wash up in the bathroom sink before throwing on clothes and heading to the bakery. Since my building is the only one without power I assume that once again the landlord didn’t pay the electric bill. He does this a few times a year, leaving us without electric for a few days, before paying the bill again. It makes for a difficult few days as there is no hot water to shower with and no way to cook a hot meal, but considering he doesn’t live in the building, I don’t think he cares very much.
Chapter 7
Kenzie
“I have a reservation with Ms. Wilder,” I inform the server when I enter the Italian restaurant Bridget texted me the details for earlier this morning. I had enough time to run back to my apartment and change into something more suitable for a place like this after my shift ended at the bakery this morning. Of course the electricity was still turned off at the apartment, not that I expected anything different. I had already left a voicemail for the landlord about it, but I don’t expect to hear back from him anytime soon.
Luckily, I’m more prepared than I was the first time the building lost electricity for three straight days when the landlord chose not to pay his bill once before. Now I have several candles, a flashlight with extra batteries, instant coffee (which tastes gross but at least will give me my caffeine fix until I can get to a store), canned tuna fish, bottled water, and frozen bread. It doesn’t make for the most appetizing meals, but there’s only so much you can prepare without electricity.
“Yes, she is in our private dining room already.” He leads me toward the back of the main area to a much smaller room than the one we met in the other day.
“Kenzie, so nice to see you again,” she greets me the moment I walk in.
“You too, Bridget. Thank you for squeezing me in, my schedule was tight today.”
Unlike our last meeting, we both spend a few minutes looking over the menu before placing our orders with the wait staff. I feel much more at ease today than I did the last meeting.
“You had some questions?” Bridget starts as we wait for our meal to be served.
“I did. My first question may seem simple but it’s a deal breaker for me. I need to know that I will be safe on these dates. I mean no offense, but I can’t just take your word that these men aren’t dangerous and won’t hurt me.”
“Kenzie... ” She sits back in her chair, clearly caught off guard. I’ve thought a lot about this over the last day and a half, my safety absolutely must be my first priority. I may not live in the safest of areas, but those are dangers I can handle. I cannot and will not be put in danger by Bridget’s offer. I will not allow the past to repeat itself.
“I can certain
ly understand your reservations about the natural risk involved when you meet someone you don’t know. If anything, the way I handle things puts you in a much safer position than if you met some random guy on the street or online and decided to go on a date with him. I do not advertise my services, meaning the average Joe on the street cannot walk into my office and request a date with one of my staff. Clients are by referral only, and their net worth must be over five million dollars or I won’t even speak to them. All clients go through the same background checks as my staff, and I expect nothing less of them because they have a ton of money.”
“I won’t agree to meet someone in a private setting,” I note. “I don’t mind meeting someone in a room like this, but it absolutely must be in a public setting. I won’t agree to dates in someone’s apartment or in their office after everyone has left.”
“Is this firm or is it something you are willing to negotiate after you have a few dates with someone?”
“I’m not sure. I guess for now it’s firm, but maybe later I would feel comfortable negotiating?”
“That’s fine. I only ask because sometimes clients ask for someone to accompany them on a business trip. For example, I believe you met Mr. Thompson the other day?” I nod, remembering meeting him. “He was picking up clothes for the woman that I arranged to accompany him on a trip to the Virgin Islands. This is not unusual, but I will say that very rarely will these trips be a first meeting. Typically, both parties have met each other several times beforehand and feel comfortable enough with each other to go on a trip like this. We insist clients reserve suites at the hotel and provide us with confirmation of the reservation. Each suite must have at minimum two separate bedrooms and bathrooms, giving each person their privacy.”
The Arrangement Duet Box Set Page 6
