By the time I am strapping my shoes on, the alarm on my phone indicates that it’s time for me to leave. I grab the silver clutch and wrap before peeking out the window to confirm the car service has arrived. It’s not hard to determine which car outside is for me. A sleek, obviously fairly new sedan stands out in front of my crappy building with a man dressed in a suit waiting in front of it. The car obviously is unique among the usual curbside wrecks and doesn’t belong in this type of area, so it’s pretty safe to say the car is for me. I glance at the bathroom mirror one last time, making sure that everything is perfect before I lock my door and head downstairs.
“Ms. Rose?” the gentleman at the car greets me as soon as I step outside.
“Yes,” I confirm.
“I am here to take you Wilder Consulting.” He opens the door and I immediately slide across the leather seats.
“There are water bottles in the cooler at your feet if you’re thirsty.”
The ride to Bridget’s office doesn’t take long, but as we approach, I get more nervous as each minute passes. So much rests on tonight: whether Mr. Parker knows it or not, he holds the key to my future. If everything goes well tonight and he still wants to move forward with this arrangement, I will finally have extra money to change all the things in my life I’ve wanted to change. If tonight doesn’t work out and he decides I am not the type of woman he needs for this type of an arrangement, I don’t think I will move forward in working with Bridget. I think it would just be a sign that this business opportunity wasn’t for me.
“Ms. Rose, we have arrived,” the driver pulls me from my thoughts before I’ve even realized the car has stopped. “Take the elevator in the lobby to the fourteenth floor, where your party will be waiting for you.”
The lobby of the building is simple but elegant, a security guard at the desk nods in my direction but doesn’t question why I am there or who I’m meeting. I don’t know if Mr. Parker is waiting for me upstairs or if it will just be Bridget’s security team that she mentioned would be here. The elevator ride is slow, though I’m sure that’s more a result of my nervousness than anything. My hands play with my clutch as I slowly watch the numbers turn red as the elevator rises. When the bell dings, my nerves hit an all-time high, but I push them down and take a deep breath before stepping out of the elevator.
“Ms. Rose, you look absolutely stunning,” Mr. Parker greets me the moment I step off the elevator.
“Thank you Mr. Parker, you look very nice as well.”
He is wearing what I suspect is a tailored black Armani tux complimented with a warm grey tie. Nice is probably the worst word to describe how he looks tonight, but my brain isn’t able to process anything except nice and hot and sexy. The suit accentuates his broad shoulders and the tie complements his warm blue eyes. He looks absolutely amazing, but I figure nice is the safest option…
“Please, call me Nicholas.”
“Only if you call me Kenzie.”
“Agreed. Are you ready to head to the gala? It’s a little bit of a drive in this traffic I’m afraid, but we should arrive on time.”
The elevator takes us to the parking garage in complete silence, but it’s not uncomfortable. When the doors open in the garage, Carter is waiting and escorts us to a large, black pristine SUV that looks like it was just driven off the dealer lot. He opens the door for me as Nicholas walks around and gets in the other side.
“Do you have any questions about tonight, Kenzie?” Nicholas asks.
“I have reviewed all of the information that Bridget sent me and am confident that I can recall where you stand on the issues she shared. I also spent some time this week researching your company and the information published on your most recent projects.“
“You’ve been busy.”
“I wanted to be prepared.”
“I assume you saw the tabloid articles?”
“I did. I have to say I struggle to see how people are connecting your personal life to PFS’s success.”
“I can’t either. Frankly if I wasn’t concerned about my employees and people I’m currently doing business with, I would say fuck it and not even do anything to address the articles written. However, when a magazine was found in one of our staff lounges open to the article questioning my ability to manage hundreds of employees, I knew I needed to do something and fast. I have too much at stake to let a few arrogant reporters destroy my life. This,” he gestures between us, “is a very small price to pay if it means the nonsense disappears and I can focus entirely on PFS.”
“Can I ask you something?”
“Of course.”
“I understand why you are doing this from a business perspective, but Bridget had mentioned your family would be in attendance tonight and that they are unaware of our arrangement… ”
“And you’re wondering why I haven’t told them about this?”
“If it’s too personal, you don’t have to tell me—“
“It’s not that. Honestly, it was never an option to tell them about this as far as I’m concerned. If I’m going to fabricate a lie that I need hundreds to believe, the less people who know the truth, the better. For the most part, the press has left my family alone, but there have been times when they have approached them about my personal life. If they believe the same lie that everyone else believes, there is no chance for them to let something accidently slip.”
“I understand, that makes sense.”
“Besides, it gets my brother off my ass,” he chuckles. ”My brother loves to torment me, and the fact that the press is giving him ammunition is just pissing me off.”
“I could see why,” I laugh.
We arrive at the gala a few minutes later; I’m surprised at how fast the drive went, the time really seemed to fly by once we started talking. I’m also relieved that for the most part my nerves have calmed. I’m still a little nervous as we pull around the long circular driveway, but I’m less anxious than I was on the drive to Bridget’s office.
“We’re going to get out my door, there will be press taking our picture as we walk in, but once we are inside they won’t be permitted. Of course we have to worry about people taking pictures on their cell phones and selling them to tabloids…”
“Don’t worry, it’ll be fine,” I try to assure him.
“Here we go.” He takes a deep breath the moment the door opens.
He slides across the seat before stepping out of the car. I follow, taking his offered hand to help me out. Immediately, we are bombarded by the press as Nicholas is instantly recognized—cameras are flashing everywhere, and I’m momentarily frozen on the spot as I try to take everything in.
“You okay?” he whispers in my ear as he wraps an arm around my waist.
“I’m fine.” I take a deep breath as Nicholas leads me through the crowd. We stop a couple of times for pictures but his arm remains around my waist as we stand next to each other for the press. What surprises me is that it doesn’t feel uncomfortable to have him touch me like I expected, since we are practically strangers, only really met twice before this. After a few minutes, he leads me to a tented area, where he nods to the security team at the entrance before we are permitted to enter.
“Wow,” I gasp taking in the view in front of me. Even though I had seen a few pictures from the previous events, nothing compared to seeing the area that had been transformed in front of me. There are several tents set up on the grass with candle-lit tables under them; off in the distance, a lighted fountain sprays water from a large display.
“My parents go all-out for this every year.” Nicholas looks around, almost as if he is seeing it all for the first time.
“It’s beautiful.”
“Mr. Parker! It’s so nice to see you again,” a gentleman in a tux approaches us.
“Mr. Jacobson, I’d like to introduce you to my date, Ms. Mackenzie Rose.”
“It’s a pleasure to meet you.” Mr. Jacobson offers his hand.
“It’s nice to meet you as well.
I understand you are doing some amazing things at the university…”
“Yes… yes I am,” he is clearly surprised that I am aware of who he is. “Without PFS’s generous support, we would not be able to fund our projects, one of which is up for an award this year.”
“Yes, I read about that one. Your department patented a way to transform dirty water into drinkable water without electricity, right?”
“Yes! We have developed a PFS-funded program and have sent the pilot plans to several foreign countries; we are planning to use the proceeds to send out many more and eventually publish our findings.”
“I believe we have a meeting in a few weeks to review the data collected so far if I’m not mistaken,” Nicholas speaks up.
“Yes, Mr. Parker, you will be meeting with our research team in two weeks. They are eager to present you with our findings thus far.”
“Wonderful, I look forward to it. Now if you will excuse us, I see someone who is trying to get my attention.”
“Of course, it was good to see you again Mr. Parker, and to meet you, Ms. Rose.”
For the next two hours, we mingle, well mostly Nicholas mingles and I trail along, every so often contributing to a conversation when something comes up. Most of the discussions surround politics, but those that don’t are focused on projects PFS is currently working on, none of which are public knowledge yet, so they weren’t included in any of the reading material I found online. I don’t mind though—I’m learning more than I thought I would about the key political forces in New York.
“Ladies and Gentleman, if you would please take your seats, dinner is about to be served,” the DJ announces.
“Please excuse us,” Nicholas tells the person he was talking to, though I have to admit that I’ve already forgotten their name.
“You’re doing great,” he whispers so no one else can hear as he leads me to the table we were assigned.
“Thank you.”
“Nicholas!” A young woman jumps from the table we are approaching and runs toward him, embracing him in a hug. His arm drops from my waist so he can catch her; he twirls her around in a circle before placing her back on the floor in front of us.
“Cara, I would like you to meet Mackenzie Rose. Kenzie, this is my younger sister, Cara,” Nicholas introduces.
“It’s nice to meet you, Cara.”
“I love your dress! It’s absolutely stunning! You’ll have to tell me where you got it from!”
I immediately feel at ease with Cara—she is probably the easiest going person I’ve ever spoken to. Once we are at the table, I am introduced to Nicholas’s parents, his brother and his date, Cara’s date, and Nicholas’s grandparents. I desperately try to calm my nerves as I sit across from Nicholas’s parents, truly hoping I don’t do anything to screw this up. I think I’m more worried that his parents will see right through our charade than I am about the press or Nicholas’ colleagues.
“So Kenzie, what is it you do?” Nicholas’s dad asks me.
“I am currently working at Sweet Dreams Bakery over on-“
“I love that place! They make best muffins, I absolutely love the apple cinnamon ones,” his mother cuts me off.
“Well, thank you. I actually make most of the muffins and breads each morning.”
“You do? Wow, they are so good!”
“The owner developed each recipe on her own; she has owned the shop for the last twenty years. It’s a shame that someone else is going to take it over—“
“What do you mean take it over?” Nicholas asks.
“Ginny, the owner, is retiring so she has put the business up for sale. She suspects a chain place will likely purchase it, but she isn’t sure yet.”
“I hope it’s not that donut place that is around the corner from the bakery. Their donuts taste like they are days old.”
“Chances are they are a few days old. Most places will make large batches in advance and sell them over the next few days. Ginny insists that we make everything fresh every day—anything that doesn’t sell by the end of the day is donated to a soup kitchen.”
“Good for her.” Nicholas’ dad smiles.
As dinner is served, I feel much more comfortable around Nicholas’s family than when we first sat down. They are all very easy to talk to, allowing the conversation to flow easily around the table as we eat. I learn that Nicholas and his brother Austin, who works with their father at an architectural firm, are teaming up on a project to revitalize a large building downtown for a local nonprofit organization. Austin’s date is very quiet and barely says a word throughout the course of dinner. She looks like she feels very uncomfortable and out of place. Cara’s date, on the other hand, is very talkative and has engaged Nicholas’ dad in a debate about a recent call at a baseball game. Cara and Nicholas’s mom discuss everything that went into planning tonight’s gala and already seem to be making notes of things they want to change for next year.
“Kenzie, would you be able to help with the dance auction? One of the girls that was supposed to help me… well, let’s just say she had too much wine before dinner and needed to be taken home,” Cara asks.
“Oh no. Of course, I’ll help out,” I agree, not really sure what I’m agreeing to but I figure how bad can it be?
“Wonderful! Thank you!” She beams.
“You don’t have to help out,” Nicholas whispers.
“I know, it’s fine—I really don’t mind.”
“Ladies and gentleman, it’s time for the annual dance auction! If the ladies helping with the auction, could please make their way to the stage so we can begin shortly. Gentleman, get your wallets and checkbooks ready!”
“Come on, Kenzie!” Cara grasps my hand and pulls me up before the DJ even finishes his announcement.
“Thank you,” Nicholas mouths to me as I’m being yanked away.
“So what do we have to do?” I ask as we wait off to the side of the small stage.
“Nothing really. When the DJ announces your name, you walk onto the stage while he tells the audience about your wonderful qualities—“
“What qualities?”
“Oh, you’ll see,” she giggles. “He makes up stuff about each one of us… you know: languages spoken, our careers, and so on. Then he opens the bidding until the highest bidder is announced—“
“Wait, so they’re bidding on us?”
“Well, not on you, silly. They’re bidding on dancing with you for the first dance of the night. The winner donates his bid to New Beginnings and in return you dance with him for the first dance. This is our biggest fundraiser of the evening.”
“Really?”
“Yup, you would be surprised how much money men are willing to spend to dance with their date or someone that they’ve had an eye on.”
I can’t help but feel some regret that I agreed to help Cara with this auction. How will it look if someone takes a picture of me, Nicholas’ date, dancing with another man tonight? I could easily see this backfiring on him if the press were to get ahold of pictures from the auction; they would rip him apart, even more than they already have, I’m sure. To prevent that from happening, I’m essentially leaving Nicholas no choice but to spend even more money tonight by bidding on me.
“Don’t look so worried; Nicholas will win the auction for you,” Cara tries to reassure me, obviously picking up on my nervousness.
“I hope so,” I say more to myself than to her.
“I know so. Trust me, I know Nicholas—there’s no way he would let another man dance with you. He may have brought other women to these things in the past, but you’re the only one he hasn’t been able to keep his eyes off of.”
“I’m sure that’s not true,” I disagree.
“We’re going to start our auction off tonight with the beautiful Ms. Cara Parker… ”
I stop listening to what the DJ is making up about Cara as she walks onto the stage, and my nerves kick in full force. I can’t see Nicholas from where I’m standing near the stage, althou
gh even if I could see him, I don’t know that it would help me feel better at all. I’ll have to hope that Cara is right, that he will ensure he wins the auction for my first dance so there won’t be a controversy in the press tomorrow if someone sells pictures of me with another guy.
“And the winning bid is eleven thousand dollars!” the DJ announces as Cara comes off the stage pouting.
“What’s wrong?” I ask.
“Next up is the lovely Ms. Mackenzie Rose,” the DJ calls me before I can find out from Cara why she looks upset. “Mackenzie is a world-renowned architect, having designed some of the most famous sites around the world. She enjoys ballet, the opera, and Broadway shows… ”
I slowly walk across the stage as the DJ continues rambling useless false information about me before opening the bidding up to the guests.
“Five hundred dollars,” a voice I don’t recognize calls out.
“Two thousand,” someone else calls out.
“Three thousand.”
“Five thousand.” I can’t see Nicholas but I know that was his bid.
“Six thousand.”
“Seven thousand,” someone counters, and I cringe at the high price this is running.
I really just want to cancel the entire auction and run off the stage, forgetting that I ever agreed to help Cara out. Had I known this would be the result, I never would have agreed to help her. I thought I would be helping count bids or helping to show auction items, having no idea that I was actually an auction item.
“Fifteen thousand,” Nicholas’ voice is loud and firm, almost as if he is daring someone to outbid him.
“Fifteen thousand, going once… going twice… Sold to Mr. Parker… next up we have Ms. Cindy Smith…” The DJ presents the next girl for the auction as I make my way off the stage, where Nicholas is now waiting for me.
“I’m so sorry! I had no idea… this was not what I was expecting, and I didn’t—“
“What are you apologizing for? I don’t think I’ve ever had so much fun bidding on an auction here before,” Nicholas chuckles.
The Arrangement Duet Box Set Page 11
