Dirty Fake Fiancé

by Sky Corgan

The woman gestured to the double doors, and I walked forward, curling my hand around the handle before tugging it open. Taking a deep breath, I stepped inside, closing the door behind myself. It wasn't until my eyes met the man on the other side of the desk that my breath hitched in surprise.

  “Jim?” I asked with a curious smile.

  The man stood, beaming a grin as he extended his hand, urging me to step forward and take it. This time, Jim's handshake was firm, more professional than casual.

  “Jim is a moniker I use in public so people won't know who I really am. Please forgive me. My real name is Jack Kemble, and I'm the CEO of Syngex Incorporated.”

  I was at a loss for words. Part of me was happy to see this man again, but the other part was horribly disappointed, now knowing who and what he really was. This kind person, who had gone downstairs to aid me in my time of need, was a womanizer.

  “I'm shocked, to say the least,” I finally muttered.

  “I figured you would be.” Jack sat back down, gesturing toward the chair on the other side of his desk. “Now, if I remember correctly, you were looking for a job.”

  “Yes,” I replied, rounding the chair to sit in it.

  “I had some time to look over your resume. It appears you have mostly restaurant experience. What do you know about working in an office?”

  “Nothing really.” The room was suddenly hot, though I was sure that it was just me. My mind was still mulling over how the polite man who had helped with my flat tire was now sitting before me, interviewing me for a job. It seemed so surreal.

  “It's not a very difficult job. All you'd have to do is run errands for me, accompany me on business trips when required, make my coffee in the morning, and take a few phone calls.”

  “So, I'd be like one of the girls out there.” I pointed over my shoulder.

  “Yes and no. I'm looking for more of a personal assistant, someone to stay by my side and tend to my needs as they arise.”

  If that didn't sound cryptic and sexual, I don't know what else could. I hadn't been inside his office for more than five minutes, and I already didn't like where this was going. This guy was a different version of Eric, and I didn't want him to feel entitled to my body because he was helping me out. Still, I was in a very desperate situation.

  “It doesn't seem that difficult,” I said, swallowing my pride. If all else failed, I could quit and call my parents. There were always choices, but I needed to test my opportunities first.

  “Well, it's not always a cake walk, but I wouldn't call it a very hard job. Plus, it comes with lots of perks. You'll get to drive in fancy cars, stay at nice hotels, and experience things you probably wouldn't be able to anywhere else.”

  “And the pay?” I cut straight to the point.

  “Considering your unstable job history, I'll start you out at nine dollars per hour. If you can make it past three months, I'll raise you to eleven. I know it might not sound like much, but you'll get bonuses along the way. If the company is doing well, I give out a Christmas bonus of between five hundred and two thousand dollars, depending on the prosperity of the company for the year. I also give three weeks of paid vacation once you've been on with Syngex for a year, as well as one week of paid sick leave. And of course, all of your benefits will be paid for.”

  “Sounds good to me. So, are you offering me the job?” I asked, hopeful.

  Jack leaned back in his seat, a sly grin playing across that perfect face of his, as if he knew he had me right where he wanted me. “It's yours if you want it, Miss Strayer.”

  “When can I start, Mister Kemble?”

  “How about on Monday at eight o'clock?”

  “Sounds good.”

  “Well then, if you don't have any questions for me, I believe this concludes our business.”

  “I can't think of anything right now.”

  Jack stood, rounding his desk to walk me to the door. My body tensed as he placed a hand on the small of my back. His touch sent an electric current through me, though I couldn't tell if it was from discomfort or excitement.

  I bit my tongue all the way to the elevator, a nervous habit I had picked up as a child. The blonde women followed me with their eyes, probably assuming I hadn't gotten the job. Little did they know that I was now the black sheep of the group. Or the brown sheep, depending on how you looked at it.

  When I got home, I waited anxiously to tell Mandy about my exciting day. She looked drained when she walked through the door after another long day of school and work.

  “Guess what,” I said, bouncing lightly on our sofa as I watched Mandy cross the room to put her tote bag down.

  “You got a job,” she replied, taking the fun out of it.

  “Yup.”

  “Dog groomers?” she asked with a disappointing lack of enthusiasm. I wrote it off to her being tired.

  “Nope.”

  Mandy paused. “Syngex?”

  “Yup.”

  “Really?” Now there was excitement in her voice. She turned to me, leaning against the table.

  “I was interviewed by Mister Jack Kemble himself.” I beamed.

  “You're kidding.”

  “Nope. And guess what else.”

  “What?”

  “That guy Jim I told you about who came to my rescue when I had a flat was actually Jack Kemble in disguise.”

  “Ha! I told you he was attractive.”

  “I know, right. I feel like an idiot now. If I looked up his picture like you told me to, I would have known.”

  “You still might not have recognized him. What are the odds of running into Jack Kemble on the street?”

  “Well, I didn't actually run into him, per se.”

  “True. Who'd have thought he'd come all the way downstairs just to help you change a tire? I know the man does a lot of charity work, but still.”

  That was something I hadn't known about him. Maybe I should do my homework. Perhaps Jack Kembe wasn't as bad as Mandy had initially made him out to be.

  “Were there a lot of blondes on his floor?” she asked.

  “Yeah. It was weird. They were all blonde, and all gorgeous.”

  “He'll probably want you to dye your hair blonde.”

  “Ew. Why?”

  “Because he likes blondes.”

  “Pfft. He hired me like this; he can deal with me being a brunette.”

  “He's your boss now. You can't have that attitude,” she chastised me.

  “Isn't there some law against making employees change their physical appearance?”

  “Not that I know of. If it's legal to enforce a dress code, then I imagine it would be legal to ask an employee to change their hair color.”

  “That's just stupid,” I muttered.

  “Stupid or not, you're going to have to do what he wants.”

  “What if he wants to have sex?” I smirked.

  Mandy shrugged. “There is a law against that. But come on, it's Jack Kemble. Who wouldn't want to sleep with him?”

  I wouldn't. Not because I didn't find him attractive, but because I didn't want to be a notch on his bedpost. For all that I knew, the girls in his office were named Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, and so on. Being a sex vending machine for my boss didn't sound appealing at all. I would have to find some way to avoid it, if it ever came to that.

  “I'll worry about that when it happens,” I said.

  “I want details when it does.”

  My eyes rolled involuntarily. It wasn't something I felt like discussing any further. “There are more important things to talk about.”

  “Like what?”

  “Like if you're going to let me stay now. The job pays nine dollars per hour, and I'll get a raise to eleven dollars in three months. That's more than enough to cover my share of rent.”

  Her face sulked back into a serious expression. “When's your first paycheck?”

  “I don't know. I forgot to ask.”

  She thought for a moment. “Well, I could pay your half this time arou
nd, but you'd have to promise to pay me back. I'd be pulling out of my savings to do it.” Mandy seemed apprehensive, and I could tell she didn't believe she'd ever see the money again.

  “I'd really appreciate it. I promise I won't screw this up.”

  “Please, don't make me regret this.”

  The weekend went by rather quickly. With each passing day, my excitement for starting the new job waned, turning to dread. On Sunday night, my mind swam with everything that could possibly go wrong. What if I hated the job? What if Jack Kemble tried to force himself on me? What if I refused? What if I didn't get along with the blonde girls? What if they were all bitches? So many what ifs filling me with a negative perspective of the day to come. I just knew I would screw this up as I had every other job before—just knew it.

  The next morning, I showed up at Syngex promptly at eight o'clock ready to start my day. It was strange working in an office instead of a restaurant. Everyone looked so stuffy and professional that I felt out of place. One thing was certain. With my first paycheck, I'd definitely need to expand my wardrobe. Currently, I only had two business outfits. The rest were all casual attire. Hopefully, Jack wouldn't notice if I wore the same thing every other day for a while. It was an embarrassing thing to have to do, but it couldn't be helped.

  When I arrived on the seventy-ninth floor, I was greeted by the blonde who had directed me into Jack's office for my interview. She gave me a fake smile as she looked me up and down, assessing me while she spoke. “Good morning. My name is Ulga, and I'll be showing you your more basic job duties. You can start by getting Mister Kemble his coffee. His tastes change from time to time, but lately he's been stuck on the large caramel macchiato from Third Rail Coffee down the street. I'm sure you're familiar with the location.”

  The way she suggested I was familiar with the location of the coffee shop put a bad taste in my mouth. There was something condescending about the way she spoke to me, and I could tell we would not be best friends. Hopefully, the other blondes were more pleasant.

  Ulga gave me a ten-dollar bill and sent me on my way. Of course, Jack Kemble couldn't be simple enough to take a coffee from the coffee maker upstairs. He had me hiking down the street in high heels, ensuring I would come back perspiring and unkempt. If this was what I had to look forward to, then I wouldn't last a week.

  When I returned with the coffee, I bypassed Ulga and went straight into Mister Kemble's office. It wasn't even eight-thirty in the morning, and I was already sweaty and tired. He gave me a warm smile, smoothing down the front of his vest before reaching out to take the coffee.

  “Good morning, Miss Strayer,” Jack greeted me.

  “Good morning, Mister Kemble.” I gave him my best phoney smile.

  After handing Jack his cup of coffee, I turned to take my leave. I had barely reached the door when he tried to get my attention. “Miss Strayer.”

  “Hm.” I looked at him, awaiting my next menial assignment.

  “You forgot the espresso.”

  My jaw clenched. That bitch Ulga hadn't mentioned anything about a shot of espresso. Then again, I suppose I should have remembered from the time we went for coffee together.

  “Would you like me to go back downstairs and get you one?” I asked, knowing that I'd realistically be going to get in my car and leave. If Jack was willing to send me out again just for a shot of espresso, then he was every bit of a jerk as I had suspected.

  “No. Just try to remember tomorrow,” he replied before returning his attention to some papers on his desk, a good indication I had been dismissed.

  As soon as I left Jack's office, I walked over to Ulga's desk and waited for her to get off the phone before saying, “You forgot to tell me he took a shot of espresso in his coffee.”

  “Did I? I'm sorry,” her voice sounded sincere, but I couldn't tell if it really was or not. After a few minutes of standing there while she finished up her work, Ulga showed me to my desk. I would stick out like a sore thumb amidst the sea of blondes. Maybe I should dye my hair after all.

  The rest of the day was a lot less stressful than the first fifteen minutes. Ulga had me stuff envelopes until lunch. At lunch, I sat at my desk while everyone else went out. It felt strange to be so isolated, but I dealt with it well enough. These girls definitely weren't very welcoming. After lunch, I shadowed Ulga while she answered phones and scheduled meetings for Jack. Apparently, this would be more in line with what I'd actually be doing. We made reservations at several fancy restaurants for Jack and his colleagues, as well as booked a hotel suite for an upcoming business trip he had planned. Ulga told me I'd be going with Mister Kemble if I stuck around long enough. I noticed that only one suite was booked, not two, but I didn't question it.

  That night when I got home, Mandy seemed enthusiastic toward asking me how my day had gone. I did my best to stay positive. After all, giving any hint of my discontent would put fear in her that I would go back on my word. To be honest, I still wasn't sure how I felt about the job.

  “The blonde squad didn't seem too welcoming,” I admitted.

  “They'll warm up to you. Just give them time,” Mandy assured me.

  “I hope you're right. They didn't even invite me out to lunch with them, which I thought was strange.”

  She shrugged. “Maybe they're jealous.”

  “Of what?” I laughed.

  “That you're going to be spending more time with Jack Kemble than they are.”

  I hadn't really thought of that before. “There's nothing to be jealous of. Nothing is going to happen between us.”

  “How do you know?” She smirked.

  “Because I don't plan on being a slutty butt with him.”

  “If you say so.”

  “I do say so,” I insisted. “What, you don't think I can resist Mister Jack Kemble's charm?”

  Mandy gave me a sardonic look. “It's Jack Kemble. He's a panty melter. No, I don't think you'll be able to resist him, if that's what he's after.”

  Now it was a personal challenge. “We shall see.”

  CHAPTER TWO

  Working for Syngex Incorporated was a lot easier than I thought it would be. Aside from having to walk a quarter mile every morning to get Mister Kemble's coffee, there wasn't anything about the job I detested. Even that I managed to make less miserable by sneaking into a pair of tennis shoes whenever I got downstairs. While I wasn't sure if Jack would approve, if he couldn't see me, then what did it matter.

  The blonde squad didn't seem to be warming up to me, but I didn't care about that too much. They were all a bunch of elitist bitches anyway, each one thinking they were better than the next. I listened to them chatter on break about where they had gone to college, the influential men that they were bedding, their rich parents or spouses or boyfriends. Money and fashion and sex and the high life seemed to be all they cared about. That was far removed from what I cared about. I just wanted to get from one day to the next without tripping over my own feet. Heck, I was still hoping they wouldn't notice I was wearing the same outfit every other day, which I was sure they did. The looks they gave me said it all. They knew I wasn't one of them.

  Apparently, my fear was well merited. By the time Friday came around, Jack Kemble was calling me into his office for a meeting about my wardrobe. “Didn't you wear that outfit on Wednesday?” he began, arching an eyebrow as he looked me up and down.

  “So you noticed, huh?” I was completely mortified. More than likely, one of the girls turned me in. Jack didn't seem like a master of observation. After all, he had so many women to watch over.

  “You should be wearing a different outfit every day of the week,” he told me, making me feel even more like shit. “Preferably a new one every day of the month. I like my employees looking fresh.”

  The condescension was quickly making me upset. Did he even know how bad that sounded? It was like he thought I was filthy.

  “If you remember, my past experience is mostly with restaurants. I've never had any need for fancy bus
iness attire,” I said between gritted teeth.

  “Well, you'll need it here,” Jack replied dismissively, keeping his nose in a stack of paperwork on his desk.

  “Unless I can magic some new outfits out of thin air, then I suppose you'll just have to wait until I get a few paychecks. Having a roof over my head is preferable to pleasing you, no offense,” I snapped and then instantly regretted it. This should be the point where I was given my pink slip. Why couldn't I keep my damn mouth shut? Seriously though, what did he expect me to do? Jack knew I didn't even have enough money to pay rent. How could he possibly think I could afford more clothing?

  He paused for a moment, thinking. “See me at the end of the day.”

  “Jack, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to snap like that.” I quickly tried to salvage the situation.

  “I'm very busy right now, Miss Strayer. Please come see me before you leave today.” Jack didn't bother looking up at me, and I knew I was done for. Was there even any point in waiting until the end of the day?

  Defeated, I sulked as I walked out of his office. The blondes gave me knowing stares, and one of them even smirked as if she'd heard the entire conversation. I wanted to punch her right in her perfect face, but the last thing I needed was a trip to jail to accentuate my bad day.

  The rest of the morning was a mental battle over whether to stay or go. At the end of the day, I would be fired, so why should I stick around. Life was over as I knew it. When I got home, I would be forced to pack and leave. I couldn't string Mandy on any longer. A promise was a promise.

  The only thing keeping me in the office was thoughts of a larger paycheck. Whether Jack wanted to or not, he would have to pay me for the time spent there. And for as miserable as I was waiting for my impending doom, I knew I needed the money, though I wasn't sure how much good it would do me.

  I performed my menial duties with all the enthusiasm as someone about to lose their job. When I was required to make inner office calls, I was rude to everyone I spoke to. The correspondences I typed up weren't spell or grammar checked. I even skipped making one of Jack's dinner reservations. While I felt it was a bold thing to do, I was sure one of the blondes would catch it. They were watching me like a hawk every step of the way, waiting for me to screw up. Did they know I already had?