by Claire Adams
“I’m sure he thinks you don’t, since you seem to be already returning favors,” she said and winked.
I hit her with a pillow. “Shut up, Stace. And it’s more of a favor to me anyway.” Trying not to blush, I changed the subject. “So what’s new with you, anyway?”
“Nothing in the scale of enthralling romance with a handsome billionaire.”
I rolled my eyes. “Thanks for completely ignoring my attempt to change the subject.”
“You’re welcome, anytime. And you know I’m just teasing, right? I am happy for you. I’ve never seen you this excited about a guy in all the time I’ve known you. One might even say you’re in looove.”
I gasped. “I wouldn’t go that far.”
“Yeah, I don’t really think you are either. I’ll probably know first since I know you better than you know yourself. I am going to make a wild guess and say that you are beginning to fall for him.”
“Yeah…I am so screwed,” I said, burying my head underneath the pillow on the couch. Was I really beginning to fall for him? I couldn’t be! I didn’t even know him very well. I mean I did, on principal – I knew what he did for a living and I knew where he went to college. I knew all these random facts about him. Me and every other girl in the world with a magazine and internet access.
Plus everything he’d done for me since the contract.
Zayden Sinclair was an absolute pleasure to hang around. I could be myself with him, I realized to my own surprise. I never pretended or put on a face; I always said the first thing that came to my mind and he found my lame jokes funny, and enjoyed my company, just the way I was. Being with Zayden – around Zayden – was comfortable, easy, and natural. The fact that we seemed to get along so well was incredible given the differences in our social status. Yet this did not seem to matter at all when we were around each other. We were always just two people, enjoying each other’s company, and no external factors about who he was and who I was seemed to ever matter.
Stacey was right. I was falling for him. I was in trouble.
---
By the time I got to work that day, I was still reeling thinking about Zayden and last night. Every customer and coworker could sense my giddiness from a mile away, I was sure, and it didn’t bother me at all. Every chance I got, I looked over at him through his glass doors, feeling wonderful. There was nothing like watching Zayden hard at work. His passion shone through the distance between us, and I had noticed that any time he was frustrated, he would screw his nose in the most adorable way and crush his stress ball. It made me wish I was his stress ball.
At some point I saw him loosen his tie in what I assumed was frustration and I just wanted to go over and put my arms around him, kissing his forehead. Unfortunately, we had an audience to worry about. Things would be so much easier if we weren’t doing this in secret. At the same time, I wasn’t sure Mrs. Brian’s judgmental looks were entirely welcome, and I didn’t want people to think there was any favoritism going on.
Not that this affected my job in any way. I still had the same shitty hours and the same shitty pay, and I was glad about it. I wanted to earn any career advances I made; however, people loved to talk and they would somehow manage to make me feel like I was getting special treatment—like extra-long bathroom breaks or something.
But more importantly, I wasn’t sure Zayden wanted to make our – I wasn’t sure what to call it, not relationship in any case – dalliance public just yet. Or ever, I realized with a sinking feeling in my heart. One of these evenings I would have to bring this up with him: yes, it was a contract, and yes, I knew where this was supposed to go all along. But things had obviously changed for me, and I wondered – and hoped more dearly than I liked – that they had changed for him too. He had taken me out in public, after all! And brought me a present from New York. Though that was hardly saying something. I had yet to even see the inside of his apartment. He had hinted a few times at taking me over there, but somehow we almost always found ourselves confined to his office. I mean, to be fair, we had both always been too eager to take each other’s clothes off the moment we were alone together. Still. It would be nice if he asked. I would like to feel more like a part of his life and get to know more about him like his family, friends, hobbies, and all that jazz.
And I would like to learn more from him. A lot more. One of the greatest unimagined benefits of our tryst had been just how much I had learned from Zayden. More than I had from most teachers. He was always willing and eager to talk me through the basics of management in the banking industry and whenever we talked about this stuff, his teasing persona would completely vanish. Solemnly, he would get into telling me details about his own experiences during his MBA, and getting into everyday examples from his job as CEO. When we were “studying,” he would even ignore my playful sexual advances, leading me to believe that he actually took me seriously. Coming from a misogynistic philanderer, it surprisingly meant a lot.
I couldn’t wait until everyone went home and I would walk into his office with all these new questions that I had been thinking about. With my shirt off. I would challenge him to keep his serious tone and make it very difficult. It would be amusing. Then, after we walked through all my questions, we would get back on his couch. Or maybe he would even invite me home…if we managed to keep our hands off each other through my long list of questions, after all, we could manage another few minutes to his house. I wondered what it was like. Probably bigger than any place I had ever seen. His bedroom was probably the perfect Martha Stewart representation of the Alpha male. Dark sheets and curtains. A drawer full of kinky things, I could bet. Things I would have no idea the purpose for. And he would probably want to show me.
“Aria,” I heard a male voice say, breaking me out of my embarrassing day dream. I looked up hoping to find Zayden, and was disappointed to find Dick’s face smiling down at me gleefully. Rick. I forced a smile.
“Hey! You look really pretty today,” he said. “Well, every day. But really, really pretty today.”
Annoyed but trying not to show it, I cleared my throat. “Thanks,” I said awkwardly. “What are you doing here?”
“Snappy. How flattering for my ego.”
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to sound rude or anything. Just wondering how come you’re at the bank. I’ve never seen you here before. And I thought you banked with Wells Fargo!”
“I am thinking of changing it.” He shrugged. “There are some things only this branch of South National has to offer. Exclusively.”
I sighed. “Rick. We have been through this already. You know where I stand on this whole thing.”
His smile didn’t falter. “I know. I thought we stood at being friends.”
That made me smile back at him and at the exact moment I saw Zayden looking at us sternly. “Yes, that sounds about right. But you really shouldn’t be here.”
“I am not stalking, I promise. I had to go visit a friend next door and I remembered you telling me you worked here. It probably sounds like bullshit – given the age-old ‘I was in the neighborhood’ line – but I really was. I can give you his number if you like.”
I laughed, trying not to look at Zayden. His fierce stares were starting to make me uncomfortable. “I believe you, and thanks for stopping by.”
“Of course, any time. I thought I would also check up on our coffee hangout. I owe you a delicious cup of Frappuccino for everything I made you go through.”
“You don’t owe me anything. Like I said, I am over everything that happened. But yes, we can grab that coffee sometime.”
“Perhaps you could plan that coffee date when I am not paying you by the hour,” I heard a different, angrier voice say. Zayden was standing in front of us, looking about ready to commit murder. I had never seen him this angry before. Not even when he was yelling on the phone the other day. My knees trembled and I looked over at Rick. He looked petrified, his face turning pale white.
“I’m sorry,” he was saying in the voice of a mous
e. “I did not mean to distract her from her job.”
“You know who I am?” Zayden said, his eyes almost red.
“Duh. Most people do around here. I’m Richard Kruz. A friend of Aria’s.”
“I don’t care if you’re the mother of Jesus. If you need to flirt with my employees, do it on your own time. Now please leave the premises of my building before I call security.”
Rick looked like he was about to throw up and muttered another “sorry” before strutting out of the building. If I wasn’t so terrified myself, I would be laughing hard at the look on his face. He definitely deserved this.
“You,” Zayden snapped. “In my office. Now.”
He had never spoken to me like that, and now my amusement and fear was starting to turn into anger. God, he was being an ass. I followed him to his office, rage spreading through my body.
“Close the door behind you,” he said in the same angry tone.
I complied, if for no other reason than to avoid a scene. There was never a good time to be chastised by Zayden Sinclair, but the worst time ever would be during the middle of the day at both our workplaces with everyone listening as they pretended to work.
It would be difficult to continue to keep my cool if he kept acting this way though.
Chapter 6
Zayden
I couldn’t justify the intense anger I felt in that moment. Just looking at her face was making me want to throw something out the window, and it had taken all the reserve I could muster not to punch that college punk in the face for daring to flirt with her right in front of my eyes.
“Who the fuck was that?” I snapped bitterly.
“I won’t answer until you ask again,” she said defiantly. “More politely.”
The nerve she had to tell me what the fuck to do was pissing me off! I closed my eyes and took a few deep breaths. She wasn’t going to make this easy, and the angrier I got, the more I needed to find out who that kid was, so he could be banned from the bank premises forever.
“Aria, who was that guy that you agreed to go on a coffee date with?”
“First of all, if you had been listening without the intention of hearing whatever you wanted to, you would realize it’s not a date. We specifically had a conversation about just being friends, and I very calmly and nicely rejected all his other advances.”
“Too nicely. You should have told him to fuck off. I’m going to ask again, who was he?”
She sighed. “Calm down, Zayden. It’s nobody important.”
“It obviously is if you are making plans with him.”
“I make plans with Nick all the time. You know, my roommate, who you thought I was also screwing. That doesn’t bother you.”
“He’s dating your friend. I hardly have anything to worry about there.”
“And you hardly have anything to worry about here either. You heard the whole conversation!”
“I saw how he was looking at you. I know that look… it’s the same one I give you all the time.” I tried to keep my voice from sounding betrayed and pathetic, but I suspected I wasn’t doing a superb job of it.
“Rick is the very last guy on Earth I would ever get involved with, I promise you.”
That name sounded familiar. After our first night she had said something about a Dick… I was half passed out from cumming, but I had heard her say something about something about a guy named Dick… Rick. And then it hit me.
Holding on very tightly to my stress ball, I said, “Your ex.”
“Yes, my ex,” she snapped. “Ex. Meaning in the past. I don’t know if you were paying attention, but that guy hurt me quite a lot. He cheated on me on our anniversary and it took me forever to get over it. I spent the majority of the year hating him.”
“Oh really? How often do you go out for coffee with someone you hate,” I challenged, my fingernails digging through the palm of my hands. The pain was oddly soothing.
“Not very often. But you know what? Before you came along, I would never ever have agreed to be friends with him. Because in some part of me, I still cared. Now I don’t. Because I care about you. And I have no reason to hate him. He almost did me a favor. In some ways, I am grateful… if he hadn’t cheated on me, you and I would have never…”
She stopped, perhaps realizing that she had said more than she intended.
“You can’t talk to him anymore.”
“What do you mean?”
“You are not allowed to go anywhere near that guy.”
She flared her nostrils. “You can’t tell me who I can or cannot talk to. You think you own me?”
“Actually I kind of do,” I spat. “In this regard anyway. It’s in the contract. Section 9. You’re not allowed to engage in any sort of relationship – platonic or otherwise – with a man I disapprove of. And I assure you, I disapprove of this guy.”
She opened her mouth in anger and closed it again. Tears were now freely streaming down her face, her mascara running down her cheeks. I didn’t want her to cry. But more importantly, I didn’t want her talking to that guy.
She looked like she wanted to say something a few times but changed her mind. After standing there in silence for a few minutes, she stormed out of the office.
People had definitely witnessed the production, and I worried about being insulted by my own employees. I did not need this kind of attention. Why did I care who she spoke to anyway? She was just some girl I had contracted to win a challenge in my own head, yet this whole ordeal made me feel extremely vulnerable. So much so that I had ended up creating a scene at work; something that had never, ever happened, in my entire career.
Aria Roberts was turning out to be more trouble than I needed in my life. Yet I knew just then that I would not be able to rest peacefully until I knew for sure that no one else shared her attention. She was to be – for whatever duration she had signed up for – completely and utterly mine.
I didn’t care how that made me seem. I wanted what I wanted, and I always got what I wanted. If she didn’t stop talking to him, I’d have him shipped off the state in no time. Money talks.
She would then hate me if she found out. I felt an uncomfortable knot in my chest. I didn’t want her to hate me. I would have to find a better tactic. What happened today could not be repeated. If I wanted to enjoy the remainder of these few months, it was in my best interest to learn to keep my emotions in check.
The trouble was, I had never before had trouble keeping my emotions in check, and I really did not know how.
Chapter 7
Aria
“Not now Stace!” I yelled from my room after Stacey’s fourteenth attempt to knock on my door.
“I come bearing cookies. With huge chocolate chunks. Don’t tell me your mouth isn’t watering smelling all the freshly baked goods.”
I sighed. She was right; Stacey knew me too well. The aroma of the cookies baking had definitely attracted my attention, but if I knew one thing about myself, it was to not allow binging on sugar while I was upset. It usually started with one cookie or just a spoonful of ice-cream, and next thing I knew I would be laying amidst a mountain of wrappers and empty tubs of ice-cream. I was such a freaking stereotype sometimes. Since I literally had no time for the gym in my schedule between work and classes, this always ended up being a horrible idea.
“Thank you, but I honestly just need to continue stuffing my head in this pillow and ignoring humanity for a little bit longer.”
“What if I promise not to make you talk about whatever it is that’s bothering you?” Stacey offered patiently. “Though I assume it’s Zayden related. You can talk to me when you’re ready, but don’t take it out on yummy sugary deliciousness.”
“How delicious?” I couldn’t help but ask. Stacey was a master baker, so it was a stupid question, in any case.
“Better than Halloween.”
I gasped and jumped to open the door. Damn it, Stacey.
“It can’t be better than Halloween. You had peaked. That’s physic
ally impossible,” I said reaching for one giant cookie, while Stacey made herself comfortable in my bed.
One large bite and I was ready to collapse, all my troubles temporarily evaporating. The cookie seemed to be ninety percent chocolate and just the right amount of crunchy, with buttery sweetness and the tiniest hint of vanilla. I closed my eyes and ate the rest of the cookie in slow bites, savoring every aspect of the immaculate taste and texture. For a moment I completely forgot why I had myself locked in my room for the last few days.
“Good?” Stacey was grinning at me, all prideful, when I opened my eyes.
“Horrible,” I said returning her grin. “Absolutely disgusting.”
I reached out for another one and devoured it. “Seriously, the worse cookies I’ve ever had.”
Stacey chuckled. “I’m glad you think so too. Now listen, I know you don’t want to talk about whatever is bothering you, and that’s fine. But you’ve been locked in here for days and that’s not healthy. Let’s do something. Outdoors.”
“Nah, I’m not feeling it,” I said automatically. “You go ahead though. Leave me the plate of horrible cookies, of course.”
“Aria. Come on. This isn’t good. You haven’t gone to work and you need the money! And you missed your Stats mid-term, didn’t you?”
No one was supposed to know about that. This was unusual for me: letting personal matters affect my academic performance. But I was in no mood to run into Zayden or Rick or deal with any of that bullshit.
“I told my professor I had diarrhea. He was all too glad to let me make it up.”
She raised her eyebrows suspiciously. “Does not sound like the Stats dude, at all.”
“You want to see the email?”
I wasn’t lying. Apparently the professor had recently suffered from food poisoning himself, and preferred staying away from anybody with stomach related issues. My make-up test was next week.
“Fine. What about your other classes?”
“I have As in everything. They aren’t going to bust me for missing a class or two. I’m the best they have.”
