by Kimmy Love
She took a step forward and put a gloved hand on the car’s hood.
“Orion’s done its best work yet,” Sierra began with a smile. “This car wasn’t supposed to be shown to the public today, but Orion couldn’t resist.”
“Yeah? How’s that?” the media man taunted.
By then, a sizeable crowd had gathered to listen to the model talk.
“The Orion 7 Iris is using the twin-turbocharged 4.0-liter V-8, eight-speed torque converter automatic, and all-wheel drive that Orion lovers have known since the debut of the 4 Vesta two years ago. The 7 Iris has an overboost function that increases the latter figure to 553 pounds per foot (for short bursts) upon acceleration. The 7 Iris can reach sixty-five miles per hour from a standstill in three point nine seconds.”
There was appreciative laughter and applause from the male-dominated crowd. Ben was smiling with his back turned. Cecile, who stood across Sierra’s platform on another car, gave a thumbs up and a wink, marveling at their new companion.
Ben walked away to meet up with a Formula One race driver who was admiring another one of his mass model luxury sedans. As he walked away from the area, he asked his secretary who that was.
“She’s new,” was Jemima’s reply.
“Yeah, I want you to find out who she is,” Ben told her.
Jemima nodded, typing the reminder on her iPad. Ben spoke to the driver, shaking hands and exchanging pleasantries, but his eyes darted off once in a while for the smart model’s direction. The irony of a smart model. He had dated a few model, and they had been airheads. She was unique. And she didn’t even bother coming up to him to have her picture taken with him. He had taken a liking to her already.
***
The last day of the launching came, and Sierra had just finished her six-hour duty of smiling and standing beside the 7 Iris. Joan Miller had showed her an article yesterday about a certain model stealing a bit of the show and a few of the guests’ hearts. The agent was certainly proud and had secretly begun to make a contract for her to be an exclusive Fresh Faces model, with the approval of the owner, of course.
She would call for Sierra tomorrow to present to her their exclusive contract. She had nearly dismissed Sierra as just another pretty face, but hearing her act smart actually made a difference.
“Ms. Miller?” a woman approached her, wearing an Orion shirt.
“Yes?” she greeted with a smile.
“I hope you remember me. I’m Jemima Roberts, Mr. Eriksson’s secretary. Well, one of this secretaries.”
“Yes, yes I do, Ms. Roberts. How can I help you?”
“Orion would like to know who the model for the 7 Iris was. We’re pleased to know she’s generated a bit of a buzz.”
Joan smiled broadly. “She’s actually new. Sierra Whittaker.”
“Is she in an exclusive contract with Fresh Faces?”
“Tomorrow she will be,” Joan replied quickly. In no way was she allowing the loss of this potential supermodel.
“Mr. Eriksson plans to have an exclusive contract drawn for her. He’s willing to match your offers,” Jemima told her as they sat on a comfortable couch, meters away from the refreshments.
“I can’t renege on my pledge to the agency to have her in it. She’s too valuable—”
“If she doesn’t have a contract, we’re letting you know we want her with us.”
“As what?”
“That is up to Orion,” Jemima responded.
“You can’t. She’s a model.”
“Apparently, you haven’t had a good background check on her. She graduated with honors from elementary until college. Which is why Orion wants her. Thank you for your time, Ms. Miller.”
Joan Miller sat there dumbfounded, holding a bottle of water. She had thought all the while that Sierra Whittaker had just memorized the three page introduction she had sent the night before the show. Well, she wasn’t playing smart then, at least that was for sure.
As soon as the affair ended, Jemima made her way to Sierra before Joan could call on to her. Joan’s lips pursed, seeing Jemima approach Sierra casually by the time she had stepped down from the platform.
“Sierra Whittaker?” Jemima began with an easy smile.
“Yes?” Sierra said.
“I’m Jemima Roberts, from Orion. Corporate secretary.”
“Hi, Ms. Roberts,” she greeted. “My shift just ended. Can I help you with something?”
“If you could come to our corporate tower at E 67th Street tomorrow at nine in the morning, that would be great. We have a wonderful offer for you.”
An offer? What was this about? She’d come to New York because of the easy money she thought she was going to get as a model. And yet, Orion stepped in to offer something else. She wondered what it was. She found herself nodding.
“All right. Do I have to bring anything?” she found herself asking.
“No need to bring your portfolio. Just yourself. See you tomorrow and have a great day.”
“Same to you,” Sierra said in a small voice. She watched as the petite secretary walked away, dialing someone on her phone.
“What was that all about?” Cecile asked, approaching her.
“I think I’ve found another job,” she said with a murmur. Sierra saw the two gossiping models whispering in front of her.
She told herself she would ignore it. As soon as she reached the changing area, Joan Miller was already there waiting for her with an envelope.
“I see you’ve spoken with Ms. Roberts from Orion,” Joan began.
Sierra nodded.
“We were going to offer you an exclusive contract.”
Sierra’s eyes widened.
“But someone’s beat us to it,” Joan finished with a sigh. “You can’t ever go against a company as big as that.”
“They’re just cars, Ms. Miller. I don’t know much—”
“Orion isn’t just about cars. They’re a luxury company. They’re one of the top eyewear manufacturers in the world; they’re also into wines. Ever heard of Newton Estates? That’s his mother’s vineyard in Canada. They produce—”
“Ice wine,” Sierra finished.
“So you have heard of them,” Joan said.
She nodded. She had thought they were a Canadian wine brand. They made the tastiest ice wines she had ever had in her life, and they weren’t cheap, but it was a pretty popular brand that she saw in Rushport’s shopping markets and high-end restaurants.
“So that company isn’t one to be messed with. Besides, they’ve used many of Fresh Faces’ models. It’s hard to let go of you when I’ve just found you. You’re rather unique among the models I’ve seen this year, but if Orion’s seen something in you, that means you’re in good hands.”
Sierra said her thanks when Joan handed her the envelope with her three-day pay.
“Make sure they like you,” Joan said before she left.
Chapter5
“I have an appointment with Ms. Roberts,” Sierra said, unsure if she should talk to security first or just go directly up to the tenth floor.
The security guard looked at her and smiled. Another pretty face for the company’s roster. “Name please?” he asked in all seriousness.
“Sierra Whittaker.”
Nice name, the guard thought as he rang for Ms. Roberts’ office. A few seconds later, Sierra had an automated ID that would only bring her to specific floors. She swiped the ID on the elevator panel, and it sped up to the tenth floor.
Sierra took a deep breath as the doors opened. She stepped into a chrome and glass office with black desks. There were no partitions, except for a single black door at the end of the office with a good view of the Manhattan skyline.
“Can I help you?” a woman who had passed by asked.
“Ms. Roberts?” Sierra began.
“She’s over there,” the woman pointed to a desk with a little fountain figurine on the table. There was also a bonsai on her neat table.
“Hi Ms. Roberts,” Sierra g
reeted as she walked up to her table.
Jemima looked up. “Ah, you’re on time. Wait here for a moment,” she told Sierra as she walked into the office without knocking. Jemima craned her neck in to check on her boss.
“Sir,” she whispered, seeing Ben standing in front of a glass panel with his hands in his pockets, looking at the city view. Jemima knew he was thinking about something ingenious; it was his thinking stance.
He looked around. “What is it?”
“Miss Whittaker is here.”
“Send her in,” he said casually.
Sierra gingerly stepped into the office, surprised to see a veranda behind his desk with bonsai plants all around the area. There were three abstract paintings that blended well with his modern office. There were two large couches on opposite sides with a coffee table in the middle. His open desk was made from dark wood.
“You like my table?” he began with a grin. “I got this from the Philippines. Apparently it’s called iron wood. It took seven people to lift this all the way up here.”
She didn’t say anything at first, surprised at how friendly he was. And now that she was up close to him, she saw they hadn’t lied about him being extremely handsome. His jawline looked like it could melt butter. He had a five o’clock shadow that made him look less friendly, but there was a confidence in him that was found in most powerful people; they knew things not everyone did.
He walked up to her, towering over her by at least six inches. “I’m Ben Eriksson. I don’t think we’ve been properly introduced, Ms. Whittaker.”
“Sierra,” she breathed, smelling his aftershave. There was something about his eyes that nearly made her knees buckle. He shook her hand, a light grip that caused Sierra to look down. He was good with his hands, too. She almost reddened from this thought. What the hell was she thinking?
“Just Sierra?” he asked.
She nodded. “Ms. Roberts told me not to bring anything. I wanted to bring a portfolio at least—”
“Jemima did what I told her to do,” he said. “Please, sit down.”
Sierra sat down across from him on a leather chair with a wooden frame. He sat back in his chair and clasped his hands in front of him.
“So, Sierra, tell me about yourself.”
“I just graduated last May from Rushport.”
“Where’s that?”
“In Rochester.”
“Quaint city,” Ben said. “I visited there once.”
He had been about to buy a small company that did the electronic circuits for a few smaller car companies, but decided it would be better if they had their own. That was the purpose of having a factory made in Germany, too.
She cleared her throat, surprised that she was suddenly tongue-tied. This was just another human being for crying out loud, she told herself.
“I have a degree in Human Resource Management.”
“Yet you’re out here modeling?” Ben said in a puzzled manner.
“The agency that initially wanted me closed down the moment I came here.”
“Which agency?”
“Ramp. Vanessa Chesterton owned it.”
He nodded. “My mother knew her. She was a nice lady with a big heart. What did you do after finding out the agency had closed?”
“Set out to find a job. I don’t have much.”
He knew she didn’t have much, despite her credentials. He knew her father was a sheriff in their small town, knew she was twenty-two years old. He also knew she was an honors student and was obviously naïve about the goings on of a bigger, harsher city.
“And you landed with Fresh Faces.”
“I asked my friend for help. He’s a hair stylist. He found out Fresh Faces needed a replacement.”
“What do you plan to do in life?” he asked her.
“Get a job. I’m aiming for a master’s at NYU. Then maybe go back to Rochester and help the local government.”
“Seems pretty honorable of you,” he said, “but how would you like to help me first?”
“Work for you?”
“It’s a special kind of work,” Ben told her.
She looked confused. “You mean unlike regular office work?”
“Unlike regular office work,” he confirmed.
“What do I have to do?” she asked, not liking where this was going.
“Nothing illegal. Just a matter of doing what I tell you to.”
“I’m sure you already have enough secretaries,” Sierra said warily.
“I do, but I’m not in need of a secretary. I’m in need of a girlfriend.”
Sierra blinked and looked up. “What?”
“You heard me correctly. I’m hiring you to be my girlfriend.”
“How—?” she stopped. This was some kind of joke, wasn’t it? She searched for signs of it on his face, searched for a sly smile, a flicker in his eye. There was none. His face was serious. “I don’t quite follow you.”
“This is my proposal,” he began. “I have a contract that stipulates our relationship for the next three months. I’ll cover all of your expenses while we’re together; I’ll set you up in an apartment, provide your shopping expenses, the works.”
“Wait, wait. You don’t even know if I’m agreeing to this. Why would you need a contract to have a girlfriend?”
He sighed and laughed. “Personal reasons.”
“You’re gay,” she quickly said.
“Would it bother you if I was?” he retorted, raising a brow.
“No, it’s just that, you can get anyone you want. I mean a man of your position—”
He held up a palm. “For personal reasons,” he insisted. “Anyway, three months is all I’m asking. You’ll date me exclusively—”
“By dating, this means…?”
“The usual. We have to be seen together in high-profile areas. We’ll have trips together. I’ll introduce you to my family.”
“As your fake girlfriend? What kind of parent would want that?”
“Trust me, some parents would want it.”
“That would be lying to them.”
“They won’t know. You’ll break up with me after three months.”
“What?” she sounded aghast. “You’ll need to hire an actress for this, I can’t do that.”
“This is a once in a lifetime offer, Ms. Whittaker. All expenses will be charged to me. You might even have enough for your master’s.”
“Why are you wasting money on this?”
“It’s an investment I need to do.”
“For personal reasons.”
“See? You are smart, after all,” he said with a smile. Slightly scatterbrained though, he added to himself as an afterthought. “We’re talking no less than twenty-thousand dollars for your living and shopping expenses for three months.”
Sierra almost choked. Twenty-thousand dollars for three months of pretending to be his girlfriend? Shopping and trips and an apartment included?
He was looking at her intently, knowing full well he had successfully swayed her to consider the proposal. She saw how nervous her hands were, distrustful of this unexpected scheme.
“Isn’t this impulsive? You just saw me three days ago.”
“You aren’t like them,” he said in a quiet voice.
She looked at him in the eye, trying to make some sense out of it. “That doesn’t sound like an assured future.”
“You can still model if you want. You’re pretty and pretty smart. That’s a killer combination for me. That’s like the ultimate assurance for women.”
Misogynist. “I don’t want to sign an agreement that doesn’t explain your side. You make it sound like it’s going to be an easy job for me. So easy it’s ridiculous.”
“Of course it sounds ridiculous. A CEO offering you benefits and a lifestyle fit for supermodels,” Ben said. “All you have to do is break up with me during a scheduled family reunion.”
“What?” she gasped, “Why would I ruin a completely happy occasion?”
“B
ecause I’m paying you to do it. After the contract ends, I’m assuring you of another check for $20,000.00.”
“I don’t want to hurt anyone…” she said, hating the idea of hurting and fooling people for the purpose of his ‘personal reasons.’ “Won’t you just tell me why you have to do this? There’ll be parents involved, I’m guessing.”
“Of course,” he said calmly. “That’s why I’m doing this. I don’t want to settle down at the moment, and my parents would like me to. I’ve just broken up with someone a few days ago—”
“A few days ago? Damn.”
“Like I said, I broke up with my last girlfriend recently and would prefer to be single but not too single in my parents’ eyes.”
“I don’t want to trick your parents. I haven’t even met them.”
“Oh, you’ll meet them.”
“You make it sound so easy. Like it’s a game.”
“But it is. And it’s going to be a win-win situation. You’ll get your finances in order, so you won’t go home in shame, and I’ll have a good enough reason to stay single and have my heart broken by virtue of contract.”
Sierra found herself shaking her head. “I really don’t know what to—”
“I’ve given it much deliberation and think you’re the perfect candidate.”
“You could have picked someone else,” she groaned.
Well, I picked you because you’re reasonably eye-catching and smart; I’m tired of dating bimbos. Plus, you seem so inexperienced and honest, he thought, easy to manipulate without the extra whining.
“I found your personality quite winning that day. Did you know you went a bit viral with the world of cars and the car geeks that come with it?” he said with a smile. Then he took a deep breath, and his tone changed in an instant. “Look, you either say you’re in this with me with the most benefits you’ve probably ever had, or you can walk out that door and go back to that tiny modeling agency to tell them you turned my offer down. Then, you can enjoy the profit sharing they make out of you.”
He slipped two pieces of paper onto his iron wood table, and she saw the outline of the contract. There was no fine print. The terms were stated clearly.
She gave a quiet gasp. Then she looked at her hands once more, trying to stop the anxiety that was growing in her. This was just a contract; it was a simple contract. These were just pretend dates, except this time she would enjoy being treated like a queen and get paid for it. She thought about her family, her loving parents and the twenty-year-old house they lived in. She thought about going back to Rushport with a master’s degree. She also thought about going back as a successful model, one of Forbes’ highest paid ones at that. It didn’t hurt to dream. Meeting Ben Eriksson was probably one of the most unexpected, yet most rewarding moments in her life.
