Sold on the Beach_A Reverse Harem Romance

by Sierra Sparks

  Brrrring, brrring.

  I perked up, and sprinted back into my room, leaping for my phone and bouncing onto my bed.

  “Hello?” I said, answering it while still bouncing on my bed.

  “There you are, Dear, I was expecting you to pick up on the first ring,” Eliza said, a small chuckle to her voice. God, it was nice to hear from her.

  “Sorry, I was in the kitchen!”

  “Well, be prepared to be at my establishment tomorrow. I have a date for you. And, it might even be a bit of a lengthy assignment as well.”

  “Lengthy, does that mean…” God, I hated to sound like such a gold digger. “Does that mean more money?”

  “Always,” Eliza said slowly with a hint of deviousness. “But he’s a good man. And you match his requested points to the tee. I’m glad I found you. He comes from a good family.”

  “Really?” That made the twinge in my gut settle down.

  Thank goodness. I thought I was going to have to put up with one of those weird rich men that were into extremely kinky stuff that probably didn’t always feel so good.

  I was willing. But afraid.

  “Yes, really. Be here tomorrow by five o’clock. We’ll handle the clothing and makeup.”

  My face felt like it began to sparkle. No one had ever given me a makeover before.

  “Wow, okay! I’ll be there. Early too.”

  Eliza chuckled and gave me the address. Phew. Right on time. Rent was taken care of and now it looked like other things were going to be taken care of as well.

  I hung up after wishing her a good night and danced back into the kitchen.

  “Hey, how about we order some good Chinese food, Dad?”

  “Sure. You seem happy. Was that a new boyfriend of yours on the phone?”

  “Pfft, please, Dad. You know I’m beyond that—”

  Bang, bang, bang.

  My dad cocked an eyebrow and got up. That banging sounded like a threat.

  I went to the door, but Dad gently pushed me to the side so he could see who it was banging on our door.

  “Wendy! Come on, answer the damn door,” my ex-boyfriend demanded.

  I slapped my forehead and drew my hand down my face. Gross. It was him. Speak of the damn devil.

  Dad opened the door.

  “Dad?”

  My ex, Daniel, saw my dad and backed up. My dad didn’t look too pleased to see him. I could bet that the bruises he saw on me once flashed through his mind, fueling a dormant rage he held for Daniel ever since that day…

  “Get away from my door,” my father growled.

  Daniel looked over and saw me behind him. “Wendy—”

  My Dad lunged at him and picked his body up, throwing him down the hall of our building. Daniel’s body hit the cement floor with a thud and a loud pop. Ugh, that was probably the shoulder.

  “Ooohh,” I groaned. “Nice one, Dad.”

  Daniel picked himself up off the ground and scowled at my father. “I’ll be back,” he coughed, limping away.

  “Come on, Wendy, let’s order some food,” my Dad said, yawning.

  With his shoulders slumped over, he trudged back into the apartment.

  Just for a second, I saw my old father. The one that used to be happy and full of life, and strong! Ready to defend his daughter. I had had my Dad back, but only for a second. That lit a fire in me. If I could get things more stable financially, maybe Dad wouldn’t be so depressed, then there could be a shot of seeing my Dad again. The real, non-depressed him.

  This gig that Eliza was setting me up for better work out. I didn’t care if the guy was amazing, average, or awful. I just needed the money. It was my only hope.

  Chapter 5 – Sam

  I couldn’t believe I was actually going to go through with this. I stared at myself in my large mirror, trying to make sure like I wasn’t looking shabby, or trying too hard.

  Benson was sitting in a sofa chair in my room, legs crossed, scratching his chin as he studied me.

  “Dude, stop standing like that. Your confidence levels shouldn’t be this low. You know your high balance bank account and good looks will get any girl you want. Seriously, I don’t even know why you’re still single,” Benson boasted, rocking his leg and waving his hand about in a nonchalant way.

  I turned around, balancing on my cane. “Haven’t you seen the limp? Plus, when it comes to stuff like… getting intimate, I don’t know how a woman might respond to my scars…” I trailed off and looked at myself once more.

  Beyond the good looks was someone who was still a bit broken. I even had this silly thought that there might still be someone out there for me. Too bad I lost the only sweetheart I had had, quite a while ago.

  Wendy Monroe…

  “Sam?! Earth to Sam!” Benson called out louder, slapping me on the back.

  “Oh? Sorry. Was going down memory lane,” I said, smiling.

  “I knew you went somewhere else. But you gotta have more faith in yourself,” he said, pointing to my chest. “You might even get a real wife out of this,” he suggested.

  I shook my head. “No. She’s only going to be doing this for the money. Whoever she is.”

  I tugged at my jacket once more and limped over to my dresser drawer to get my wallet for the evening.

  “Well, try to have some fun. Good luck on your date—”

  “Meeting,” I corrected.

  “Whatever, I call it date. Now have fun, drive safely.”

  Benson followed me out of the house and jumped into his McLaren, speeding off.

  “Funny, he should take his advice about driving safely…” I said to myself as I watched him peel off.

  In my hand was the keys to a different car today. Even though I didn’t feel up to the task of propping myself up too much, I decided to at least arrive in style with my Ferrari. It was a simple silver matte color, and it was going to give me hell to get in and out of it.

  “Oh well, here it goes,” I said, opening the winged doors and throwing my cane inside. After some careful maneuvering, I was all situated and pressed the button that revved the engine to life.

  It was like having the Italian chorus and orchestra directly behind you. The engines oozed power and speed. Not that I bought it for that, I rarely went over fifty in this car. Rather, I bought it for the history of the car, and out of respect of how and why it was built. Enzo had a good grip on cars it seemed.

  I began my leisurely drive down into the city. For some reason it was still on my mind that I could turn back and turn down this meeting, date, whatever Benson called it. But then I remembered the banker, Mr. Johnston, and the loan the bank wanted back before things got out of hand.

  Then it was Mr. Gallock and the promise of millions before us. Things were lining up, almost as if to say that I better take this chance or else.

  I was almost inside city limits when a car sped by me. They were a bunch of teenagers, begging to befall the same fate I endured a few years ago. Their speeding car rounding the corner gave me a heart attack. It was too close to hitting me.

  Beeeeep, beeeep!

  Cars beeped from behind me, shaking me out of my trauma induced panic attack.

  “Fuck,” I cursed, rubbing my forehead. I drove off, and in minutes, found myself staring at Madame Rousseau’s Building of Amour. A tad gratuitous with the French, isn’t she? I thought.

  I had the valet park my car and limped inside.

  “There you are! Right on time.” Eliza greeted me with open arms, sashaying down the steps to meet me.

  “Good afternoon, Ms. Rousseau.”

  She took me by the arm and led me down a black hall, lighted by only sparkles and specks of lights on the ceiling and walls.

  “Nice work here…” I wasn’t sure how to compliment the walls without sounding cheesy.

  “Thank you, dear. It was my idea ever since the building was built. Custom built,” she corrected herself.

  We turned a few corners, and ended up coming out onto a grand dining ha
ll that shared the same elegance as the rest of her building I’ve seen so far.

  “Wow, impressive. That’s a lot of crystals you have going on here,” I said, noting the chandeliers that hung above and the crystal glasses and plates on the tables. The tablecloths themselves were a rich velvet lined with black, and the seats looked plush.

  “She’s right over there.” Eliza pointed, and began to drag me off to meet her.

  Stopping a few feet from her, Eliza hung back. The place was dimly lit and all I could see was a silhouette shrouded in darkness.

  “I’ll be right here,” Eliza said, as if trying to sound reassuring and encouraging. “Go get yourself acquainted, and once you’re comfortable, call me over and we’ll speak more about the arrangement.”

  Eliza released my arm and floated off to another table to sit down. The girl waiting at the table had her back faced to me. I could still barely make her out in the dim light. All I could tell at first was that she had a lovely neck. Her short blond hair was in a flip that reminded me of the style that someone I used to know… someone dear to me… used to wear hers in.

  As I approached her, my heart began to beat harder. I had no idea how any of this would turn out. I had no idea I’d ever be buying a temporary wife, but, here I was.

  “Excuse me,” I said, getting her attention.

  She turned around, and my heart leapt out of my chest through my throat and ran the other way.

  “Wendy?!” I gasped.

  Shit.

  Her eyes went wide and she jumped out of her seat.

  “Sam!” She looked around. “Wait, you’re my date?” she asked, her mouth hanging open.

  “Y-yes. I…” I was lost for words. Or rather, they were clogging my throat like a clogged drain. There were so many things I wanted to say to her.

  “No, I— I can’t do this. Not with you!” She walked around me, her now curvaceous hips swaying side to side in that deliciously tight dress.

  Eliza got up from her table. “Stop, Ms. Monroe. You cannot walk out on Mr. Reign here. Or else you’ll forfeit working with me.”

  Wendy’s shoulders dropped. “What?”

  “Monsieur Reign is a good man,” Eliza took her by the shoulders and brought her back to me. She wouldn’t look me in the eyes though. “Please. Give him a chance.”

  Now that she was closer, I had a better look at her. Damn, she was perfect. Her breasts were a bit fuller than I remembered them being, in that dress, her hips were gorgeous, and for the first time, my cock got a little irritated in my pants.

  Her eyes flickered at mine, and trailed down to my cane.

  “Fine,” she whispered.

  Chapter 6 – Wendy

  Sam… was an asshole.

  I wanted to call him that right to his face. But instead, for the sake of this job and working with Eliza Rousseau, I played the quiet girl and sat back down in my seat.

  “I’ll leave you two alone now. Get along now,” she insisted, walking back to a table a few tables away from us. There had to be about four more couples in this large dining room.

  Sam hobbled over to his seat and sat down. He looked at me as if I were a ghost.

  “Something wrong?” I asked.

  “No, nothing. You look gorgeous is all.”

  Hmph, he complimented me… I glanced at his cane again and cleared my throat.

  “What’s with the cane. I saw you limping…” I was the heartbroken one, so why did I feel bad about asking him about his cane and limp? I was treading on thin ice around him for no apparent reason.

  “Oh, car accident.” He said, eyeing a glass full of champagne that had been waiting for him. He sipped it and closed his eyes for a second. “Drunk driver, went into a coma for about six months…” Sam pursed his lips and inhaled.

  “Six months?” I took a gulp of my champagne too. “Wow, that’s terrible. What happened to the driver?”

  “Dead. My sister really fought to keep me alive. Just as they pulled the plug, I came back…”

  Oh damn, every piece of resentment I had for him churning in my gut began to simmer down and die out. Six months… they were even unplugging him so he could die?

  “Good old Willow,” I said. She had always been so nice to her brother, even when he hadn’t always deserved it. And then, I asked, “Has your recovery been better than they expected?”

  I winced, yelling at myself for asking him so many questions. Still, I couldn’t help but be curious.

  “I guess so.” Sam shifted in his seat, getting more comfortable. “Doctors said I wouldn’t walk again. But intensive therapy proved otherwise.”

  A small light beamed on his face with a quaint smile. Age had done Sam some good. Real good. He was cute before, in an immature youthful way. But now, this wasn’t a cute boy sitting in front of me; this was a handsome man that was mature… and a bit broken.

  “I’m glad you’re up and walking,” I said, fiddling with my wine glass.

  “Thank you. I’ve been doing well ever since. I even own my own business. Which brings me here.”

  Okay, it was time to get down to business. Sam’s face shifted to that of a serious look—

  his eyes tinted and his eyebrows furrowed. It sent chills straight to my core, buzzing me with a tease of arousal.

  “About that…” I trailed off, lost in the scent of his cologne. Damn, it was spicy, expensive and low key at the same time.

  “Yes, I need a fiancé. A woman to marry. A wife.”

  I leaned back in my chair, “W-what?” I stammered. Time to drink the rest of this champagne down with one gulp.

  Sam chuckled. “A temporary wife though. There’s a business engagement I need to get over with. Once that is done, we can part ways… if you like.”

  If you like? Those last words echoed in my head and I was lost for a moment.

  “So, I need to marry you and play the good wife for some business thing you have going on?”

  “Ever heard of Reign Corp?” he asked me, sipping his drink.

  His eyes were glued to mine, and I didn’t know how to take it. Well, my pussy did, and it was clenching its appreciation, trying to get my attention, as if I didn’t already know what it thought it needed: to be taken for the very first time by this hot billionaire I used to be smitten with. But, other than that… my feelings were as mixed as a bag of apples and oranges.

  “Reign Corp? That’s you?!” I held onto the table as if I were going to be flung across the room.

  “Yes.”

  I folded my arms and thought about it for a moment. He was wanting to fake marry me. Talk about life getting weird.

  “What’s the payment?” I asked, snapping into business mode myself.

  Eliza waltzed over: the money mention was her cue.

  “About that,” she began, “the payment for you is one point two million.”

  “What?!” I shrieked, clasping my hands over my mouth in embarrassment. The other couples that were being set up looked over at our table and my face grew hot from being so loud.

  “But, darling, it’s only paid after the agreement ends,” Eliza added. “However,” she pulled out an envelope, “should you accept, there is a small bonus of eight grand in here to help tide you over.” She looked on to Sam. “I’m sure if there’s anything outstanding you should need, Sam will take care of it.”

  “Indeed, Ms. Rousseau. Nothing but the best for her.”

  Sam locked his eyes on me again, and I felt butt naked. His eyes… the way they undressed me, made me wet and twitchy. Dirty thoughts filled my head.

  “Deal,” I said. My pussy clenched its anticipation once again, this time even more eagerly.

  Eliza gave me the envelope and sat some papers down for us both to sign. The rules were straight, and protected both of us.

  Over one million dollars would be mine. The eight grand alone was phenomenal, but the one point two million? That was what would bring happiness back to Dad and me. Finally, an opening at the end of the tunnel.


  ***

  Sam escorted me out to the front of the building. We exchanged numbers and I opened up my Uber App.

  “Do you need a ride home, Wendy?” he asked.

  The valet drove up in a silver matte Ferrari, and my jaw just about hit the ground. I was always a car person; so was Sam. That was one of the most outstanding things that we had had in common. But back then, we would only look at cars and talk about which ones we wanted to buy one day. He was the only one of us who had managed to make that happen.

  “Come, I’ll drive you.” He limped over to open the passenger door for me.

  “Well,” I stuttered, looking at my Uber app.

  Come on, it’s a Ferrari! I told myself. You’ve always wanted to ride in one. Plus, he’s going to be your fake husband. Might as well enjoy the real perks of a fake marriage, right?

  “Sure!”

  I slid in and he shut the door. Once he was inside, he drove off. He wasn’t speeding, but the way the car performed felt fantastic. I gave him my address and he popped it into the GPS. Now we were ready to roll.

  “Wow. So, you got your dream car after all,” I said, looking around the car. We were so close to the ground. And the way the engine hummed like an angry beast behind us was exhilarating. “Bet turn ins scare the hell out of you.”

  “Lift system fixes a lot of that,” he explained. “Plus, as soon as I knew I was able to, I rushed out to get this… in your favorite color.”

  I smiled, choosing not to say anything. Then I kept my focus out the window.

  People whipped out their phones and gave Sam a thumbs up. An attention catcher, he was always the one people liked.

  And the only one I had ever liked…

  “Here we are,” he said, pulling up to my shabby apartment building.

  “Thanks. Call me tomorrow? I don’t know how all of this is supposed to go down.”

  “Me neither,” he said, with a shy grin. He peered at me and then made a small move forward as if he wanted to kiss me. I would have let him, despite my better instincts. But then he stopped. “But, yeah, that sounds like a good next step. I’ll call you tomorrow.”