The Arrangement: Collection A (Vol 1-3)

by Ward, H. M.

  “Yeah, yeah. I’ll see you later, foul mouth,” I say, grinning.

  The window slides down. “Goodie-two-shoes is gonna be your new nickname.”

  “Funny. And I thought you’d go with something more classic.” I smirk at her and she shakes her head. Her hoop earrings sway back and forth as her mouth drops open.

  “I’m saving those for later.” Mel shoots a knowing look at me. It makes my stomach dip, like I have no idea what I’m in for. “When are they doing your kit?”

  “Tomorrow night.”

  “I’m so coming!”

  I fold my arms over my chest and tilt my head to the side. “Fine, as long as you don’t make it weirder, because it’s already weird.”

  “Yeah, I—” Mel’s eyes fixate on something behind me. She stops talking and has a strange look on her face.

  A familiar voice fills my ears and my body reacts. “Avery?” I turn slowly and see Sean walking up behind me.

  Mel’s eyebrows lifts so high they’re about to slip off her face. “Is that—?”

  I give her a look that says SHUT UP. “No.”

  Sean stops next to Mel’s window and stands in front of me. “Long time no see, hot lips.”

  My face flames red. Mel’s mouth opens, making an audible holy crap sound. I turn to her and tap my hand on the door. “Better get going. I’ll catch up with you later.” Code: Go away right now and if you say anything, I swear to God, I’ll break your face.

  Of course, Mel says something. “So, hot lips? Meaning you’ve already sampled the goods?”

  “Something like that,” Sean says smiling. I take his hand and pull him away from her car.

  “Get your ass home, Mel. I’ll see you later.” I keep my hand in Sean’s and pull him back toward my car, as Mel pulls out of the parking lot. I know she didn’t want to leave, but I’m relieved she did.

  Nervously, I jabber, trying to fill the holes in my head. I feel like I’m hemorrhaging words. They keep coming until Sean stops me. When I reach for my car door, he stops me, and turns me toward him. Reaching for my face, he tilts my chin up and looks into my eyes. I freeze. My heart pounds harder and harder. I think it might explode. A shiver slips down my spine.

  Sean says, “There are very few things that captivate me as much as you do.” His eyes drift toward my lips before lifting to meet my gaze. Butterflies fill my stomach. An insane compulsion to giggle washes over me, but I manage to subdue it to a smile.

  “Insane compliments will get you insane answers.” I feel the grin stretching across my face. “Let’s keep our feet firmly planted in reality.”

  “All right. How about this? I have never, ever met someone that draws me in the way you do. It’s everything—the way your hair sways when you walk, the curve of your hips at your thigh, the sound of your voice, the way your eyes dart away when I compliment you—like no one has ever told you how beautiful you are—everything about you is enticing. Like a moth to a flame.”

  “Ah, it’s cliché time.”

  Sean touches my cheek with his hand, slowly slipping his warm fingers across my skin. My stomach twists into knots. I want to lean into him, but I don’t. My eyes close as he does it. I can’t hide how much I like his touch. His voice pulls my gaze back to his lips. “There are only so many ways to tell a woman she’s beautiful. I’m bound to run into a few clichés from time to time.”

  I smile shyly, like I don’t believe he finds me that attractive and turn my face away. It breaks the contact with his hand. I wish I hadn’t done it, but I can’t feel like this about him. He’s going to be something else, someone else. This can’t happen. I open the car door and slip into the seat. I dig the key out of my purse and stick it into the ignition and twist. I feel like I’m forgetting something. Sean makes my brains melt and I can’t think. The car doesn’t start. It doesn’t even try to turn over. Ugh, slacker car from hell.

  “You forgot the magic spray,” he says softly through the cracked window. Sean holds up a can of ether and walks to the front of the car. He lifts the hood and sprays. I hear his voice a second later. “Now try.”

  I gas it and turn the key. The engine sputters to life. Sean walks back around to my window. I roll it down half way, where it gets stuck. Sean slips me the can. “I thought you might need that.”

  Smiling at him coyly, I ask, “Are you stalking me, Mr. Jones?”

  Sean shakes his head and leans against the roof of the car. When he does it, he moves in closer to me and I catch his scent. It fills my head and I inhale deeper. “Quite the contrary, Miss Smith. I go out of my way to avoid you, however, you keep appearing right in front of my favorite diner at various hours doing all sorts of strange things. It’s difficult to ignore you.”

  “Strange things?” I grin. “Such as?”

  “You have a spray start car, for starters. That’s not something I see every day. Second, you chased your car after getting it jacked, which was something, especially since you had every intention of getting your car back. When you consider that the car has no monetary value, it makes me wonder why you’d risk your life for it. And after much consideration, I’ve decided you’ve filled the tires with gold and that is the reason why you couldn’t possibly part with this beast, and it also explains why you go through ether cans like hairspray.”

  I blink at him. Am I strange? When did that happen? The image of using ether as hairspray enters my mind and I laugh like a hyena. “You pegged me, good citizen. Thank you for watching my golden goose while I was away at school, failing my tests. I shall reward you greatly.” I’m joking, not thinking about what I’ saying as I say it.

  Sean’s smile slips. “And what reward will that be?”

  “You’ll have to wait and see.”

  Sean straightens and steps away from the car so that I can pull out of the parking spot. I’ve been revving the car engine every few seconds to keep it running. Exhaust fumes fill the cold air, making white smoke.

  He says, “I’ll see you around, hot lips.”

  “Oh, you have no idea.” Grinning, I pull my car out of the parking lot and head back to the dorm. I’ll quit tomorrow. Right then, I felt so good and everything was going right for a change. I didn’t want to mess it up.

  12

  Mel asks, “But where did he come from? All of a sudden, I looked up and he was just there. Poof!” Mel makes imaginary sparkles with her hands, like she’s a magician. “And correct me if I’m wrong, but he looks a little bit familiar. I would have sworn that I’d seen him somewhere before.”

  We are sitting in her dorm room. Her roommate is out and Mel is bouncing up and down with excitement. She walks across the room and flops on her bed. I sit in the comfy chair opposite her and pull my feet under my butt.

  “Mel, I don’t know where he came from. Sean seems to haunt that corner like a ghost. The first time I met him he rode up next to me on a motorcycle and helped me get my car back. It was the night I was carjacked.”

  Her grin widens. “He’s hot and he’s chivalrous? Jackpot!”

  I shake my head. “No, not jackpot. He’s messed up. Sean looks familiar because his picture is in the book at Miss Black’s. He was the one who wanted a virgin.” I don’t know what I think about that. He seems normal without that piece of information.

  Mel starts to say something, but her mouth hangs open. It’s like the words evaporated or something. I lift a brow at her, like I told you so. A snarky expression flashes across her face, “Don’t go giving me that look. Everyone is fucked up to some extent.”

  “This one seems more so than others.” A memory slips into my mind. I can see Sean’s eyes and feel them on me. It makes me heart race. I hate that I have that reaction to him. And his lips… Shut up! I scold myself. I add, “Besides, most guys don’t go looking for hookers.”

  Mel holds up a finger and corrects me. “Call girls, high priced call girls. There’s a difference.” Like I should know that.

  I snort. “Yeah, meaning the guys have money.”

>   “Well, that’s a difference,” Mel says like it’s a valid point. She locks eyes with me and says, “So, let me get this straight. This really hot guy offers to help you when some asshole steals your car, you accept his help, you guys get your car back, and then what?”

  I nod as she speaks, affirming her conclusions. “Then, nothing. We said good-bye. I don’t have time to date and Sean didn’t seem interested, but then I saw him again. And again. He brought me home last night after I flooded the engine trying to start my car.” I have that vacant look in my eye that tells her that I’m remembering more than I’m saying.

  “And…” she prompts, prodding me with her eyes.

  I shrug, not wanting to tell her about the kiss. “And nothing. He’s fucked up. You said so yourself. I can do damaged, but not—”

  Mel starts laughing and I have no idea why. She’s lying on her back on the bed and actually kicks her feet over her head and holds her stomach as she shakes with laughter. As usual, I have no idea what’s so funny. Thinking quickly, I wonder what I missed, but don’t see it. I throw a thick pillow across the room and it slaps into her thigh.

  Mel rolls upright and wipes a tear from her eye. Still smiling way too big, she says, “Holy shit! That’s why you took the job with Miss Black! You like him.” She’s grinning at me now. Suddenly Mel regains her composure. Seriously, she asks, “Tell me, Avery, what are you planning to do when you meet him as Miss Black’s girl? Pretend that you’re someone else? Pretend that nothing ever happened? Or are you planning on using the SURPRISE! method of scaring the crap out of the guy? Ya know, cakes aren’t part of our MO.”

  I rub a finger to my temple. I didn’t really think about that part. “I thought he’d just gloss over it.”

  “You’re kind of hard to forget. You seriously think he’ll act like he doesn’t know you? Who’s mental now?” Mel folds her arms across her chest and gives me a look.

  I make a strangled sound and bury my face in a pillow. Okay, maybe this is a bad plan. When I look up I say, “I am, obviously.” I take a deep breath and ask, “What do I do with this? Who signs up for this and has sex with a guy that she already knows?”

  “No one. There’s a rule. Miss Black is strict with it. There are no extra relationships outside work when you’re with her company.”

  “Why buy the cow when you can get the milk for free?”

  Mel blinks at me. “What fucking cow? We’re talking about you. White folks are so messed up.” She shakes her head and looks up at me, totally serious. “If you work for Black, you have no relationships outside of work. There are no real names, no addresses. Everything is done at hotels. The entire point is anonymity and the guy gets whatever fantasy he wants fulfilled. You kind of messed that up since you already know him.”

  A jolt of panic shoots through me. I lean forward in the chair. “I don’t really know him,” I stammer, “I mean, I don’t know his last name, where he lives, I don’t know anything about him besides that he’s hot and has a motorcycle.”

  Mel holds up a hand and cuts me off. “What, you think I’m gonna rat you out? Get real, chica. I’m trying to help you. Don’t mention any of that to Miss Black and stay away from Sean outside of work. He knows the rules as well as you do. Besides, if he breaks them, I hear Black has a security team that breaks his legs.”

  “Are you serious?”

  She nods. “There’s a lot of money in this business, enough to keep us safe and keep the guys from turning into stalkers. No one messes with us.” No one speaks for a moment. Mel’s amber gaze lifts and meets mine. “Are you really going to do it?”

  My voice barely comes out. “I have to. There aren’t other options. Rent is astronomical and some temp job will render me homeless faster than I can blink. I did the math. I’m screwed. I might as well accept this as fate and go with it.”

  “Fate?”

  I nod. “Yeah, if it wasn’t him—if I never met Sean—I couldn’t have gone through with it. As it is, I feel sick.”

  She smiles weakly at me. “I know what you mean, but don’t worry, it’ll pass and I’ll help you through it.”

  13

  The photo shoot isn’t what I thought it would be. There’s a photographer—an older guy with a huge black camera—and Miss Black. We start by taking pictures of me clothed. They take a few headshots and then move onto full figure shots. I’m wearing jeans and a clingy sweater. I look young. My hair falls down my back in thick waves. They set my curls before we started the shoot.

  I feel silly. That’s the best word for it. I have trouble loosening up until Miss Black gets me talking. Then, things go better. I feel more at ease. I laugh. They put me in a few different outfits and the final outfit is a skintight black dress. The back is extremely low and dips past the small of my back. The dress is like a second skin. Every imperfection I have stands out and I feel like a fat hobo.

  “This can’t possibly look good.” I say, pulling at the dress.

  Miss Black swats my hands away and says, “You have no idea how stunning you are, do you? The dress fits perfectly, and what you think is fat are feminine curves. Without them you’d be a broom handle, so stop fidgeting and go sit over there.” Miss Black points to a corner with a bench in front of a bank of windows. The cityscape is behind me. The photographer moves his gear to the new location. It’s the only shot that isn’t on a backdrop.

  I sit down and smooth the dress. I start to tug down the hem, but Miss Black, says, “Leave it. Turn toward the city, Avery. Look out the window and pull your hair over your shoulder.”

  I finally understand what they are doing. I twist toward the glass and flip my hair over my shoulder. It sweeps all to one side. I glance back at them. It’s a more natural shot, like they’re taking the picture of me when I don’t know it. The photographer stands behind me with the camera to his face. I hear the shutter click. I glance at Miss Black for guidance, but she doesn’t give any so I turn back to the glass. I lift my hand and touch the cold windowpane with my finger, staring blankly at the city. I don’t smile. I feel lost. My life is nothing like I thought it would be. I wish I’d gone with my parents that night. I wish I wasn’t left here alone. I watch the red and white lights race by below. Life seems so fleeting, so pointless. I take a breath in and look back over my shoulder. The shutter snaps capturing the haunted look in my eyes.

  Miss Black has her fingers on her chin like she’s pleased. “Very good, Avery. You’re done with this part of the kit. We’ll do your blood work and fill out the rest of your papers.”

  I nod, surprised there aren’t more damning photographs taken. As if she could sense my thoughts, Miss Black says, “We don’t do nude pictures. The joy of seeing the woman in the flesh for the first time is part of the package. The rest of the pictures are to give an idea of your personality, likes and dislikes.”

  “But you didn’t ask me any of that.”

  “I know. You’ll be the girl we tell you to be, which is very close to your natural inclinations anyway.”

  I nod. I don’t care anymore. I change out of the dress and put my jeans and sweater back on. When we get to the paperwork that I saw the first time I was here, I don’t know what to check off. I’ve never done any of it, so how am I supposed to know what I will do or won’t do.

  I’m sitting at the same small table at the back of the cubicles. The place is empty again. I wonder if anyone is ever here, besides Miss Black. I look at the paper and blink.

  Miss Black sits next to me with a cup of coffee. It’s black. She hands it to me. I sit up and take it. Miss Black pulls the papers in front of her. “I have an idea. Why don’t we write on here that this sheet will be modified as experience is accumulated?”

  “That’s fine for future, er—dates, but what about now?” I ask.

  “Treat it like a normal relationship and tell him when to stop.”

  “But if there are no hard boundaries…”

  “You lose some of the protection afforded by the rules. I know what you�
�re thinking, but it’s impossible to know what another woman will like or what she won’t tolerate. There are some things here that I thought I would never do, and that I’ve grown to enjoy.” I must give her a weird look because she leans forward and touches my hand, saying, “Don’t misunderstand. I want you to feel comfortable, so let’s put a progression on here that way he can’t skip to the kinky stuff without doing the normal stuff first. Is that all right?” I nod. This is so weird. Miss Black smiles and writes it on the paper. “Good. I think this lines up with Mr. Ferro’s preferences anyway.”

  “Who?” I ask, wiggling to the front of my seat.

  “Mr. Ferro, the man who I wanted to pair you with.” Miss Black stands and retrieves the large book from the other night. She flips it open and it’s everything I can do to not react. It’s Sean. Pictures of Sean, his preference sheet, his description of what he finds attractive, and more. “Don’t be afraid, Avery. It’s only a binder. Take it and look.”

  I do as she says, and pull the binder in front of me. Mr. Ferro. Sean Ferro. There is no first name on the sheets. Miss Black explains how they only use formal names. I am to call him Mr. Ferro. I wonder if that name is real or not. I wonder why he came in here, why a handsome man like Sean would want this. I touch a picture, looking at his eyes. My gaze drifts to his lips and I feel a zing float through my stomach. I blink hard to crush the memory and turn the page looking for answers, but there are none. It showcases a man that seems beautiful and normal.

  Sean wrote that he prefers a woman with little experience so that he can take the time to teach her. What’s that about? Altruism at its finest. He wants other guys to have better sex, so he teaches the new girl the ropes. That makes no sense. None of this does. There’s a disconnect between this file and the guy I know.

  A voice at the back of my mind says maybe you don’t know him at all.