by Hazel Parker
“Sorry, you wouldn’t believe the kind of day I’ve had,” I said.
“Well, let’s hear it.”
“I—”
Not a word about this. Or you lose everything. And by everything, literally everything.
“Just had this one client in particular who acted like a massive asshole. Like, to the point that he was screaming and cursing so loudly that my father had to come in and break things up. It was both terrifying and kind of funny.”
“I was going to say, you seem more excited and hyper than overwhelmed.”
Excited and hyper…
Do I actually want this in some fashion? Do I really want to try and take this gamble and see what happens?
“I guess you could say the adrenaline kicked in.”
“Speaking of, by the way, I haven’t seen your man yet today,” she said.
I rolled my eyes.
“He’s not my man.”
Nor will he ever be if I wind up taking this deal.
“I saw how you two flirted the last time we were here. You two had such a spark, I’m half-surprised—”
“Well, even if we did, it’s not like I’ll ever see him again,” I said. “He didn’t give me his number, and anyway, he said something about how his fate was sealed at the end of our conversation.”
“What, he’s engaged?”
“That’s what I thought, but he said he wasn’t married or even seeing anyone. Maybe he moved across the country?”
Amanda genuinely looked disappointed. Maybe my spark with Brett had been something more than what I had anticipated.
“Well, that’s too bad. Hopefully, he did not.”
We wound up shifting gears to more general topics and gossip. All the while, though, for pretty obvious reasons, I couldn’t concentrate much on our actual conversation. I kept replaying my father’s words over and over again, waiting for the text to come to say it was a joke, only to know that every logical measure said this was no joke.
Honestly, a part of me kind of hoped Brett did show up. I was never one for a casual hookup for an “on the spot” romance, but if I was about to sign my life away for the next several years…
Well, I wasn’t about to say that I was all in on going home with him, but I was certainly more open to it than I normally would have been.
Amanda and I closed out about an hour later and walked out the door. And then, just before we exited, someone else walked in.
Him.
Chapter 7: Brett
“The order has been sent to Amazon. Awaiting confirmation of request.”
With those words on my phone, Uncle Nick had just confirmed that I was now either engaging in the best thing I’d ever done for myself or officially selling my soul for several million dollars. I just really hoped that this girl, whoever I got, was more than looks. I could fuck looks, but I couldn’t live with crazy.
But just in case this girl didn’t even meet looks, I was headed back down to a very particular part of town. I had in mind a certain target for the evening, and when Brett Ferrari wanted a certain woman in his bed, Brett Ferrari got that woman. Cocky? Absolutely. True? Almost always, yes.
Along the way, I got a message from my brother Nick, saying, “Big news coming soon. Stay tuned…” I knew this was his way of having me call him for more details, so I decided to flatter him.
“Let me guess,” I said as soon as I heard him pick up. “Your big news is that you are splitting your new contract between Layla and me.”
“First of all, if I’m splitting it with anyone in the family, it’s Layla and Leo.”
“Fuck that!” I said. Nick couldn’t stop laughing on the other end of the line—he knew how to get under my skin. “I’ll sooner take out your kneecaps than let that lazy fucker get any part of the deal.”
“You’re such a generous soul,” Nick said. “I’m so glad I can continue my career because of you.”
“And luckily for me, since I work for the family winery, you ruin me, you ruin grandma and grandpa, and then no will for you!”
“Yes, but you think I need the will with this baseball contract?”
Damnit, I hated when Nick could win with points like that.
“In any case, no, the big news is not that I’m somehow endowing you all with universal income,” he said. “The big news is that you need to keep this weekend open. Because I...wait, you’re alone, right?”
“Just me and the Tesla, man.”
“OK. I am going to propose to Izzy this weekend!”
“Oh, shit!” I said in excitement. “Nice!”
But I couldn’t lie, even though I felt genuine excitement for my brother, there was a bit of a sting. Nick had found true love, love that he’d want to keep around forever; even though the grandparents would occasionally make remarks about him now having an adopted son instead of a biological one, there was no doubt that Nick loved and doted on Izzy sincerely.
And here I was, having to have our black sheep uncle reach out to his connections in Las Vegas and the Bay Area so that I could have a wife before the old couple croaked.
I mean, in some respects, I wasn’t that jealous, because it wasn’t like I was some awkward virgin, never to have sex ever again. It was just…
Shit, I guess I was growing up. I guess the impulse for real love was running a little deeper than the impulse for really good sex.
“Yeah, man, really excited,” he said. “I’m probably going to do it at the family estate and invite Izzy’s family over.”
“Probably?” I said. “You may want to decide that pretty quickly!”
“Relax, I already have the ring. I just may decide to pull the trigger sooner if I get impatient.”
“How kind of you to think about us in this process,” I chortled.
“Well, speaking of thinking about you,” Nick said in fake affection. “How are things on your end with that?”
I sighed.
“Now it’s my turn to ask if you’re alone.”
“Just me and my Tesla, man.”
“We’re so obnoxious,” I said with a laugh. “Yes. I flew to Las Vegas and met with Uncle Nick. Didn’t want to communicate anything over the phone. He said he’s put the request in to find me an assistant who can later become my wife.”
“Fucking A,” Nick said. “Don’t feel bad about it. You’re Brett, you’re the womanizer and chaser.”
Yeah, but it’s not quite as shiny and glittery as it once was.
“No reason to apologize for being single this long.”
“Unless your name is Alf or Mary Ferrari,” I said, rolling my eyes. “But it should be set up within a couple of weeks, I think. So, for now, I’m just going to enjoy the shit out of my freedom.”
“You say that like you’re going to jail,” Nick said. “You never know. The girl that Uncle Nick sets you up with could be a real game changer and winner. She could turn out to be your Izzy.”
“It’s Uncle Nick. The guy who Dad yelled at for getting us in the family business. The guy who lives in Las Vegas probably because grandpa told him to stay there. You think he’s going to get me a sane girl?”
“Never know.”
I appreciated brother Nick’s optimism, but it was easy to feel that way when you already had your own girl lined up for the future. I had so many question marks ahead that the only real thing I could do right now was focus on the night ahead and let the rest unfold.
And so I parked my Tesla, wished Nick well, and made a beeline to the bar I’d met Chelsea at only a few days ago.
Call it confidence bordering on arrogance, but I knew that she would be inside. I knew that she would want me. And I knew that if I played my cards right, even if I didn’t get laid tonight, I would at some point. To me, the whole thing had an air of inevitability to it.
I got to the front door and swung it open when I saw her and her friend standing there. I paused and smiled.
“Leaving so soon?”
“I am, but she’s not.”
“Amanda!”
And just like that, her friend brushed by her. God, how I wished every single female friend that I encountered had the same level of common sense as that girl did. It would make my life so much easier.
“Hi, Chelsea,” I said. “I hope you weren’t planning on leaving.”
She hesitated, stopped herself, and shrugged.
“What’s one more drink?”
Indeed.
I walked up to her, put my hand on the small of her back, and guided her to the bar. This was easy. Too easy, really. She’s a nice girl; there’s more to her than just her hotness.
Though she is really damn hot.
“I thought your fate was sealed and you couldn’t see me anymore,” she said after I pulled up a stool and sat close enough to her, our knees touched. “Wouldn’t that prevent you from being with me?”
“Not necessarily,” I said with a smirk.
“What exactly did that mean, anyway?”
I shrugged.
“It’s hard to explain and not really something I want to,” I said. “But I can assure you that I am a single man, that I behave with honor and dignity, and that I am not lying or manipulating anyone. Because I don’t need to.”
I could tell Chelsea had never dealt with someone like me before. Admittedly, moments like this became sort of self-reinforcing; my confidence made me act suave, and the positive results made me more confident, which made me act suaver. I wasn’t always this blunt or charming.
Nor, I guessed, would I be for much longer.
“Well, you have my attention, Brett,” she said.
I ordered us two drinks, and gradually, flirtation became more than just verbal. We started to laugh, touch each other lightly, and lean in more and more. It was readily apparent that Chelsea was more than just a great-looking gal. She was someone fun and playful.
The whole time, though, I felt like there was something about her that she wasn’t quite revealing, like there was some part of the story that I wasn’t privy to. She had a certain edge about her that made it difficult to pin down, and part of the allure of the night was not getting super deep, or even deep at all; it was about maintaining that air of mystery.
But damn if I wasn’t a little too curious.
“How about we take this outside?” I said, putting my hand on her knee and squeezing. I could practically see her arousal rise with the curling of her lips. “Get some fresh air and chat?”
In my mind, I already knew how this was going to play out. We’d get outside, walk for a bit; I’d hold her hand, take her someplace we could sit down; we’d start kissing, which in turn would get more affectionate and aggressive; and then next thing you know, we’d be back at my place, clothes torn off so fast that it might as well have been like turning a switch from off to on.
“Sure,” she said. “Just let me use the bathroom and we’ll head out.”
“Are you going to sneak out on me?” I said. “Climb out the window to make sure that you never have to see me again?”
“Hmm,” she said, putting her hand on mine. “Yes, such a scenario would make sense, wouldn’t it? Except you were the one who didn’t give me your number last time. So maybe I’m testing you to make sure you don’t run away here. Who’s the bad one now?”
I leaned forward, perhaps making Chelsea think that I was about to kiss her. The only reason I didn’t was because I knew I could later. It was more fun to play this out a bit.
“You have no idea how bad I can be,” I said, whispering into her ear.
And then I leaned back, motioned for her to run to the bathroom, and finished my drink with a satisfied smirk on my face. God, this was so much fun. At least I would be ending my freedom on a bang.
Chelsea stared at me for so long, I began to wonder if she was debating between using the bathroom or just using me for her own personal pleasure. She certainly looked like a dog in heat, ready to pounce on me. And if it came to that, I wasn’t about to complain.
“You are trouble,” she said.
But she did eventually walk around me, running her hand over my shoulder, as she walked to the bathroom.
In some ways, it was really a damn shame that my own short-term pleasure impulses were winning out. Chelsea legitimately seemed cool. I had no idea if she was actually worth dating or not, but she had real personality and real standards. She wasn’t just an easy lay, but once we’d gotten to the point where that seemed possible, she was an eager one.
But, alas. I was about to sell off my freedom for a few years to make sure I was financially set for life. Maybe it wasn’t any different than a businessman grinding in his basement for a few years of his life to ensure financial stability for the rest of his years. I just happened to be hitching my sexual wagon to one woman instead of hitching my work ethic to one business.
Plus, if I were honest, the knowledge I would soon get married and that Nick and Izzy would soon be engaged had changed a lot for me. I still lusted after Chelsea and would always have that drive for more, but I could see the value in settling down.
Well, perhaps better said, of being with one woman. I still enjoyed a certain part of this lifestyle far too much to call it “settling down.”
I smirked when Chelsea came back.
But my smirk vanished when I saw that the sexy smile and seductive eyes had faded in favor of a more serious look.
“Bathroom smelled that bad, huh?”
“I gotta go.”
The fuck?
“Well, we are leaving this bar, so—”
“No, Brett, it’s...I can’t explain it, OK? I just can’t...I can’t be…”
She didn’t even say anything else before she made a straight shot to the door.
Wasn’t it funny how things could just make dynamics flip so quickly? One second, I was the guy holding down the fort, dictating the pace of our interaction, and smoothly making things inch closer, one erotic step at a time. The instant Chelsea said she was leaving, though, I became the pursuer, the guy who didn’t want to lose her.
Of course, if I had the option of chasing more women beyond the next weekend or so, I would have let Chelsea go without blinking an eye. Scarcity had a funny way of making people desperate and horny.
“Chelsea, wait!”
I caught her when she was about ten feet away from me outside. She turned and looked at me, and I saw something I didn’t expect to see.
Fear?
“What’s wrong?”
“I can’t be seen with you,” she said. “I...sorry.”
What?
“So let’s go somewhere quieter, more private,” I said.
I was thinking more cocktail lounge or a park, but now that I’d thrown it out there…
“What’s going on? We can hang—”
“No, Brett,” she said. “Not like this. I’m…”
She shook her head.
“Come on, let’s go.”
And then, strangely, her demeanor changed. It almost seemed like she forced herself to become angry, but there was little doubt that the expression she soon adopted was one of pure annoyance.
“Go alone somewhere?” she said. “I barely even know you, and you want to be alone with me?”
“Chelsea, come on—”
“No, Brett, I should have known,” she said. “I knew you were a bit of a player, but I figured you’d at least get to know me some before you made a move on me like that.”
This was...there was something going on I didn’t know about. No one had ever turned on a heel this quickly, even the more crazy and insecure ones. But even with that being the case, did Chelsea have to act so...well, so bitchy about it?
“Guess my fate is sealed as well.”
“Chelsea!”
She kept walking. She wasn’t looking back.
In spots like this, normally, the sting of rejection wasn’t even a sting; it was something that lasted all of a couple of seconds before I picked up the pieces and moved on to the next available target at the
bar. But given present and near-future circumstances, this one stung. Just as positive feedback loops had a way of cheering me up and making me feel more hopeful and optimistic, this was having the opposite effect now.
Now, I was feeling like I’d just missed out on my best chance to have some fun before my life became a giant theatrical production.
And did she have to throw my line back at me? Cold.
I headed back inside, sat at my stool, and quietly asked for another drink. I looked around the bar to see if there were any more options, but after having a massive ribeye placed in front of you, you didn’t want a quarter-pound burger patty; you wanted the ribeye back.
I finished my drink quickly, closed out my tab, and headed home. I knew two things were true now.
One, Chelsea was apparently not as fun or good of a catch as I had thought. Even if she was funny and attractive and a delight, she apparently also had such flightiness that no one could ever pin her down for even a night out. So if I saw her again...I’d admire her beauty and then just keep walking. She was just a dime a dozen. Even though you know she’s not. Even though you know you’re just trying to come up with excuses to make yourself feel better.
Even though you know something is preventing her from acting on her attraction to you.
And two, the era of Brett Ferrari, the lady’s man, had come to a close.
It was time for the theatrical version of Brett Ferrari, family man and “devoted husband,” to begin setting up the stage.
And I had to say, right now, that feeling wasn’t anywhere near as acceptable as I had thought it might be.
Chapter 8: Chelsea
If anyone finds out what’s going on, you’ll lose...everything.
I knew my father had referred to people knowing about my arrangement.
But I couldn’t help but imagine, as I sat in the stall of the restroom, that if whoever had set this up knew that I was about to wind up in the bed of a relative stranger, it wouldn’t help matters.
The problem was it was all guesswork. Was this wealthy family conservative? Did they care about my background? Did they want a thorough analysis of my sexual history? Would they care if I drank?
