by Sienna Ciles
She rolled her eyes but I could see her cheeks lighting up with a new blush.
“I’m an executive at an adoption agency, a non-profit,” she said. “I know it probably looks like we’re one of those organizations that takes all the money--the shoes, like you said--but we really do work hard to get good placements for kids who wouldn’t otherwise have great chances in the system.” It’s a set piece, a routine, and I know she’s probably told at least a hundred people something along the same lines; of course, plenty of people have reasons to doubt the good intentions of adoption organizations.
“Which one do you work for?” I reminded myself to keep my voice under control, to play it cool; there was almost no chance she worked for the company I was interested in, after all--there were dozens of nonprofits throughout the country.
“The Hannah Wells Organization,” she said, as if she’d read my mind. I made myself take a breath. Whatever job she had in mind, I was definitely interested in finding a way to do it.
“So, were you some good girl in school, and you’re making your triumphant Homecoming Queen Makes Good return to the old alma mater?” I crossed my arms over my chest, looking at her steadily. “And where do I figure into this?”
“I was never the homecoming queen, first of all,” she told me tartly. “But you’re sort of right. I’m going to the reunion to kind of...I guess show off,” she admitted.
“The only reason to go to a reunion, unless you’re one of the saps who’s still friends with your student government, prom planning buddies,” I pointed out.
“That was about the way I figured it--even if I wouldn’t have called them saps,” Bethany said.
“So where do I figure in your plans?”
She looked at me a moment longer and I thought she’d chicken out. “I want a date to the event,” she said quickly. “I don’t really have much of a social life--I work too much for that--but I want to have the perfect life to show off to my former classmates.”
I barely managed to bite back a laugh. “Being an executive for one of the world’s worthy causes isn’t enough of a win?”
“All these people...they’re going on vacations to the Bahamas, and getting married, and all that,” Bethany explained. “I just...I guess I don’t want anyone to have any reason to feel bad for me.”
“How are they going to know for sure that you’re a sad lonely-heart if you don’t tell them?” Why the hell should she care? She should find the captain of the football team and if he’s still halfway in decent shape she should fuck his brains out--he’d be crazy to turn her down. Bethany was unquestionably hot: medium-brown hair and big, hazel eyes, clear skin without any sign of wrinkles, and in spite of the office-appropriate attire, it was pretty easy to estimate her at a generous cup size, with excellent curves--as one of the rappers once put it: a winning hand. She could probably get the entire football team, if she wanted them.
“It’d be better to have proof, and I’m willing to pay well for it,” she said.
I whistled lowly at that. “You’re going to pay someone to be your boyfriend for a weekend?”
“My longtime boyfriend,” she corrected me. “The idea would be to act like we’ve been dating a good long while.”
“Easy enough,” I said, shrugging. “What’s the price you’re willing to pay?”
“Fifteen thousand,” she said, without hesitation.
I let out another whistle. “They’re paying you well at that nonprofit.”
“I make enough...and I don’t have a social life, like I said, so I’ve been able to save money,” she pointed out.
“Fifteen thousand to pretend to be your boyfriend.” I took a bite of my pie and sipped my water.
“Will you do it?”
I pretended to think about it for a few moments. The money wasn’t really an issue; I could always make money.
“Eh--I’ve got my own business to take care of in town this weekend,” I said, just to tease her a bit.
“Twenty thousand?” That was more money than I’d taken to run a few--very odd--jobs for Jimmy Linetti. But this was obviously a one-time deal, not repeat work, so twenty thousand was solid.
“Five thousand wouldn’t make that much of a difference, not at the end of the day,” I pointed out. “Actually, you might be able to get a good deal on this--if you’re willing to trade in a little ethics instead of cold cash.”
“What do you mean?” Bethany frowned at me and I licked my lips, hoping against hope she’d go along with me.
“One of the pots I’ve got on the back burner has to do with the very agency you work for,” I explained. “If you’d be willing to give me some secure access to files, I’d be happy to pretend to be your boyfriend--hell, I’d pretend to be your husband--for the weekend.” Bethany’s frown deepened at that and I thought idly to myself that no woman that cute had a reason to have such a pronounced frown, like she was used to being disappointed.
“What do you want secure access for?”
“That’s my business,” I replied. “If you give me access to the files, I’ll be your loving, devoted boyfriend and swear up and down that you’re the only girl for me.”
“You’re sure you wouldn’t just take the money instead?”
I shook my head. “I’d have to declare it on my taxes--I don’t need that kind of headache,” I said. “The information is good enough for me.”
“You’re not going to use it for criminal purposes?”
I laughed at that. “Not really,” I said. “Nobody’s going to get hurt as a result. I just need some information.” Of course, that wasn’t entirely true, but I couldn’t give up on the best chance at a break I’d gotten in years.
“You’re completely sure I can’t convince you to take the money?”
I laughed again. “I am completely sure that the only thing I want is information, which I can only get with secure access to files you should be able to open,” I said. “Take it or leave it, Bethany.” I turned away from her then, pretending to be interested in my pie and my phone, giving her a chance to think it over. She hadn’t eaten much of her own dinner, and a woman like that didn’t need to skip meals.
She turned back to her food, I saw in the corner of my eye. I was willing to wait. I was pretty sure she’d go along with my plan; I’d done the song and dance before, negotiating terms with people a lot tougher than her. At the end of the day, we each had something we wanted that the other person could help us with--that was all that mattered.
Chapter Three
Bethany
I thought about Ransom’s offer as I ate. Ethically, it wasn’t exactly sound. I wasn’t supposed to let anyone--anyone--without clearance have access to secure files, and I still didn’t know why he wanted to look in the agency’s databases. Try and offer him more money, see if he’ll take that instead, I thought.
“You know, as much as I’d like to make a splash at my high school reunion, I don’t think I want to give up my job for it,” I said, turning back to look at him once more.
“I can promise you that nothing I get out of the files is anything you’d ever get fired for,” Ransom said, turning to face me completely, arms crossed over his chest.
“How can you know that for sure? I could offer you...let’s say twenty-five,” I countered. Ransom shook his head.
“I’m not interested in your money--besides, if you got fired, wouldn’t you need it?”
I couldn’t really argue against that logic. “You swear to me that you’re not going to use access to the files for anything that could be traced back to me? And that you’re not going to...I don’t know. Do anything extremely illegal? Nothing that would hurt people?”
Ransom looked at me for a long moment with something that was almost like pity in his eyes. “It’s a database of people who put their children up for adoption and the kids they put up, right?”
“Amongst other details like donors and how much they gave us, tax information, things of that nature,” I agreed.
“What on earth would I do with information like that, that could get you in anything like real trouble? And what the hell is ‘extremely illegal,’ anyway?”
I had to laugh. “I don’t know! I meant...you’re not trying to get information that you could use to hold someone ransom or anything, are you? I mean, your name is Ransom, after all.” My heart pounded hard in my chest at the thought, accompanied by a series of mental images of what would happen if someone found out that the murder or kidnapping of a donor--or someone else--had happened because I’d granted someone access to key files.
“No, nothing like that. I won’t tell you what it is that I need the information for, but I can promise you that it’s nothing that you’d object to. Probably.”
I raised my eyebrows at the ‘probably’ and picked at my meal for a moment. It was a better deal than I would have thought possible, in a certain way: I didn’t really have to spend any money at all, at least not unless I got fired for giving someone access to confidential files. But if Ransom held up his end of the deal, and if he didn’t do anything that could be traced back to me, I was a solid twenty thousand dollars ahead. I could go on an actual vacation for once, I thought. I certainly had enough time accrued.
“Fine,” I said.
“Fine?”
I glanced at Ransom and took a deep breath. “If you’ll pretend to be my boyfriend, and if you actually succeed, and convince the people at my school, I’ll give you access to confidential agency files.”
Ransom held out his hand, leaning across the counter toward me.
I shook his hand and he smiled, and I could completely see why the two waitresses had been falling all over themselves to flirt with him. His grip was strong but not crushing, his hand was dry, his fingers had a kind of firmness to them that told me that he could do a lot with them--not that he could do anything for me, not really. The smile, though. The smile was amazing, breaking across his face like a burst of sunshine from behind heavy thunderheads.
“We have a deal,” he said.
He took his hand back and I realized my mouth was dry. I took a sip of my coffee and tried to think of what should come next.
Ransom spoke first, though. “Where’s the event going to be? From what I know about this kind of thing, it’s usually at a hotel or something.”
“Oh, it’s a whole, long thing,” I said. “There are a bunch of events over the course of a few days, and a dance at the end of it.” Ransom pressed his lips together at that and I wondered if he was going to ask for the money in addition to the access.
“Okay, that works for me,” he said instead. “How do you want to do this? I assume you want to show up from the beginning together--and we should probably have a cover story of some kind, at least.”
“Do you already have a hotel set up in town? Or somewhere near here?” I thought about it for a moment; the idea I’d started to form felt a little crazy, but I couldn’t think of a better way to manage it.
“I was going to find a motel or something when I got into town,” Ransom said.
Lucy, our waitress, had started to get annoyed at his lack of attention to her, and I saw her give me a quick, slightly sour look as she put the check for his meal down next to his plate.
“Here--let me pay for your meal,” I said, sitting up and finding my wallet.
“I can afford my meal or I wouldn’t have come in,” Ransom countered.
“What? Are you afraid I’m not going to leave a generous enough tip or something?” I glanced at Lucy, who probably was afraid of just that.
“Of course not,” Ransom said. “I just think it’s silly for you to pay for my meal when I’m the one who chose to come here and order what I wanted.”
“Let it be part of my payment to you for you helping me with this reunion,” I said.
Ransom held my gaze for a long moment and then chuckled, shaking his head.
“If you insist, I’ll let you pay,” he said finally.
“And about where you’re staying. If you’re not staying at the same place as me--well, that will just bring up a lot of questions,” I said. I got up and picked up the little folder with his tab in it. I could feel the blood starting to rush to my face and ducked my head, opening the folder to look at the bill for Ransom’s order.
“I can get a room at your hotel,” Ransom suggested.
“That would open up a bunch of questions, too,” I countered. The idea I had still seemed crazy to me, but I thought it was the only way I could make the whole ruse work.
“What do you have in mind? I could share your hotel room, but that might get a little crowded, since I’m not actually your boyfriend.” His voice turned playful. “Unless you want the full ‘boyfriend experience.’”
The blush flooding my face deepened and my cheeks burned. I took out my card and slipped it into the little pocket, trying to regain my composure.
“You can stay at my parents’ place, with me,” I said quickly. “There’s a guest bedroom, and I don’t think I’m going to have anyone over, so it’s not like there will be questions.” I took a deep breath and dared to look up.
“That sounds fine to me,” Ransom said, and if I could see something in his eyes, I thought it was probably a good idea to ignore it.
“As soon as we’re all paid up here, you can follow me back to the house,” I told him.
“I’d be happy to,” Ransom said.
Lucy brought me my own check and I made sure to pay both--giving her a good tip on each one. I noticed that my hot chocolate wasn’t “on the house” anymore, but it had been good enough that I was more than happy to pay for it. I signed both of the receipts and tucked the copies into my purse. It was only then that I really thought about what I was doing. You’re letting a stranger stay in your parents’ house with you, to pretend to be your boyfriend for a long weekend. You’re going to give him access to confidential information from your job. Are you sure you haven’t lost your mind completely and totally?
But even as I questioned my sanity, I thought about the counterpoint: I wanted to make as flashy an entrance at my reunion as possible, and Ransom would complete the picture I wanted to give my former classmates of my life after high school. I figured that if he seemed to be untrustworthy, or if he acted up, or something came up during the weekend, I could always insist on paying him the money I’d set aside for something like this instead of giving him access to the agency files. Worst case scenario, you can call the cops on him.
Somehow, though, I didn’t think I would need to. I thought I would be pretty lucky, all things considered. “Okay, I think that’s everything,” I said, rising from my seat.
“I’ll follow you out to your parents’ house,” Ransom told me.
I nodded and started for the door. A cold gust greeted me when I stepped out of the Green Leaf Diner, and I thought that the temperature had to have fallen at least another five degrees. I shivered and hurried over to my car, glancing behind me to see if Ransom was following.
I wasn’t sure what I expected a guy like him to be driving, but somehow the nondescript black car--a little sporty in its lines, but not a sports car properly--was exactly what I would have thought and nothing like what I expected. I waved at Ransom and he sketched a quick return wave before climbing into the driver’s seat of the black car and starting it up.
I climbed into my Prius and turned the heater on high to get it going properly. I flashed my headlights as I passed by Ransom in the parking lot and watched in my rearview mirror as he pulled up behind me at the entrance into the parking lot. “Let’s see if he actually follows,” I muttered to myself, starting on the way back to the highway and toward my old hometown.
Chapter Four
Ransom
I followed Bethany on the highway, thinking about the twist of fate that had brought us together. Who would have thought that I’d run into the exact person most able to help me out in my little private mission at a dingy old diner outside of a tiny, sleepy town?
I k
new without having to think about it too hard that Bethany would come up with whatever excuses she could to put off giving me access to the information I wanted. I couldn’t blame her for that--not really. It was confidential stuff, really sensitive, and if she did get caught letting me access it, then she could absolutely lose her job.
But I had already planned on making things happen in such a way that there could be no way for Bethany to get caught. The information I wanted wasn’t likely to be widely searched, and the agency she worked for was one of the few places I hadn’t been able to get to, to look for what I needed. It was the best good luck anyone could have imagined for me to run into someone who would have the level of access I needed. If I hadn’t been able to get the information I wanted from in town, I had planned on tackling the agency itself in a couple of weeks, and trying to charm someone into giving me access to the databases and files.
Now all that extra effort wouldn’t be necessary, and I might even get a chance to do some additional research in town, if there was free time between whatever events Bethany wanted to go to. I followed her car off of the highway at the exit, and thought a bit about the fact that she was willing to pay tens of thousands of dollars for someone to pretend to be her boyfriend for a handful of days.
She wasn’t ugly--far from it. She was gorgeous and successful, so why would a woman like that even need to hire a fake boyfriend? Too wrapped up in her work for any kind of social life, most likely. Bethany had blushed more than once during our little chat at the diner, but I didn’t think she was a virgin still, or inexperienced.
The house she pulled up to was neat and tidy, even in the darkness. Someone had left a porch light on--or maybe it was on a timer--to illuminate the yard, so I could see the pruned-back trees and the well-maintained grass and the stripped-down gardens covered in mulch. Bethany’s parents would probably be out there as soon as the ground thawed before spring, planting the beds back up so they’d be all color and flowers by Easter.
