by Elsa Kurt
Sandy opened her mouth, trying to understand what Clint was saying.
Clint went to the sliding glass door and opened it. A cool breeze entered the room. He gestured Sandy to go out on the deck with him. She went outside and felt the cool air.
He went to the edge and pointed to the Space Needle. “Amazing that we spun around twice in the Needle.”
“I know. It was incredible.” She still could tell Clint was nervous.
He moved to face Sandy and held both her hands. “I’ll repeat a comment I made a few weeks ago. I fell in love with you the moment I ran into you. Actually, the first time I saw you throwing away trash, the way you glanced at me fast so I might not notice you looking at me.”
“But when you ran into me, the feel of your body made mine melt. I love you, Sandy, and I want to share my house with you, to make it your house too. I want you to be my wife.”
Sandy got emotional. “If you asked me then and there, I’d say yes like I’m saying now. Yes. I want to be yours. All yours.” They kissed and ended the night in their bed to make the mark of a new life.
The engagement was short to include the people Sandy loved. Laura and Bob were moving to Washington, D.C. the end of September. Sandy and Clint set their marriage on the twenty-fourth of August.
C.C. Construction’s boat was professionally decorated Friday morning for the night nuptials. The top floor was decorated for the wedding using the colors of white and teal. The main floor of the boat was set for a dinner and dancing after the wedding. Sandy asked Bob to give her away. Heather was her maid of honor and Laura stood by Sandy as her mom.
It was a gorgeous night with a close to clear sky. The wedding was priceless and the night was fun with dancing, eating, and socializing. Clint set up a castaway boat for him and Sandy to leave the party before it was over.
Clint, being full of surprises, had the rescue boat cruise up to the San Juan Islands to a privately rented house by the coast. The next four days the couple got to know each other better and had fun hiking, digging for oysters, geoducks, and finding shells.
They returned to Seattle for more changes to take place. Sandy bought Sandy Beach Café from her aunt and soon-to-be uncle. She hired more workers and a new manager to help run the place. Clint’s schedule was busy, but he stayed home more, doing paperwork and contracts.
As planned, Sandy signed up for a couple classes at the university. She ran into Aaron once in the bookstore but turned the other way.
Life can have its troubles, but in the long run, you can live happily ever after.
About the Author
J.S. Andersen lives in Boise, Id. She always has a passion to write and create stories of all kinds. With a list of plots for her future books, her genre varies from Y.A., Mystery, New Adult, Mafia/Gang, Historical/Fiction, Chick Novella, and on.
In her spare time if she has any, J likes to hike, sew, crafts, photography and of course writing.
Social Media Sites:
Facebook:
https://www.facebook.com/jsmithandersen/
https://www.facebook.com/melissamackadventure/
Blog:
http://www.jeanetteandersen.blogspot.com/
http://jsandersen.allauthor.com/
http://www.jsandersen.net/
Twitter:
https://twitter.com/snapgrowl
LinkedIn:
https://www.linkedin.com/in/jsmithandersen
Whatever You Want
By Chevoque
Me To Be
Amahle Peters’ perfectly manicured fingers were meshed together on her lap and she still wasn’t quite used to not biting her nails, as she feared choking on the acrylic. She spotted a nearly invisible crease in her pencil skirt and worked on trying to flatten it out, only to find herself being watched. In her nervous moment of thought, she eyed the secretary staring at her with utter confusion, and she truly began to feel like an escort. Explaining what she truly did, or even the purpose of her visit, would come off sounding like just that; a lady of the night.
Focusing on her surroundings of glass walls and crystal chandeliers that weren’t what most would consider suited to a civil rights law firm, the building with its black marble floors and gold finishes brought an odd sense of comfort with its opulence. Yet Amahle’s only reason for being there had nothing to do with what they could do for her, but rather the other way around.
Simeon Breitenbach was her reason for being there, the third heir to the law firm that brought forth the biggest changes in civil rights for everyone in South Africa. They were legends, known to take care of the people, despite themselves.
She finally broke eye contact with the secretary and looked at Mr. Breitenbach’s office door. Desperately hoping it would open so she could get this over with, a heavy sigh left her. Looking at the elevator, she considered leaving, in order to stop the torture of needing to be approved—which made her realise how desperate she was. She even heard her mother’s disapproving tone in her head.
Looking down at her feet in the new heels she had bought specially for this meeting, she quickly regretted not breaking them in beforehand, as the chaffing already showed on her skin. Her time to choose a sneaky escape ended as she heard chatter that turned into laughter coming from inside the office before the door opened to reveal three men stepping out. Americans, she realised as they continued to speak, but she noted the man with a plastered on smile behind them was only half-heartedly listening, which she was certain made him Simeon Breitenbach.
Closed off, he showed his reasoning for her being there before she was even introduced. His mesmerising central heterochromia eyes of blue and hazel held her attention, and she immediately wanted to know more about him. She knew the basics and why he applied to Salexis, but in person, and not just being a file of information to read through, made a big difference, as seeing the hurt he was hiding had her more invested than before.
“I appreciate all you’ve done to help me build here fairly,” the man with the dark hair said and she pinned him down as an Italian.
“And for helping me expand my family’s construction network here in South Africa has definitely paid off,” the other man, who was clearly no stranger to physical labour, added before extending his hand toward Simeon.
“Development and job creation is what we always work toward,” Simeon said in his South African accent that nearly seemed like the foreign one in the conversation, but it was at that moment he seemed to notice her sitting there.
She could only manage a half smile, before redirecting her eyes away from the group of men as they headed toward the elevators. They exchanged their goodbyes and she saw the secretary rise from her seat as Mr. Breitenbach returned. Doing the same, she turned to him, standing in his fitted suit, polished from top to bottom with not even a hair out of place. This is when she realised that everything about him was a façade.
“Ms. Peters?” he kindly asked, but she noted he wore the same false smile he used with his business partners and it upset her.
“Y—” she began, but needed to clear her throat, as the long wait had her rather parched.
“Come, I have water in the office.” He gestured that she was to walk in ahead of him. “Thandi, please send the contract out for Mr. Scala and Mr. Jackson,” he added, as he handed his secretary a thick manila folder.
“On it, and yeah…” She paused, likely waiting for Amahle to be out of earshot before adding, “your private meeting is here.” Thandi had said it with clear confusion in her tone.
“I saw,” he said with soft chuckle.
When she stood in his office she was impressed by a rather stunning view of Cape Town’s CBD. The white furniture contrasted the black marble floor, and the Ndebele art—she was almost dead certain were Esther Mahlangu originals—around the office were the only colour additions. Near his desk was a small lounge and she was certain the set alone cost more than all her furniture combined, but the lounger called her name with its sleek design and she could only sigh
.
She heard the door click and turned around. Noticing he was heading to the small kitchen, adding ice to a glass and pouring water from a pitcher, she stepped closer. When he was done, he came walking toward her, his light brown hair catching a glare from another building’s window. She saw the slightest hint of red in it as he handed her the glass.
After taking a long pull of water, it felt like she could finally breathe again. “Thank you,” she said, while he showed her to his desk and she followed behind him.
“Better?” he asked, suddenly looking as nervous as she felt when he undid his jacket’s button and took his seat.
“Uhm…” She cleared her throat again while sitting across from him. “Yes, I’m good now. Thank you.” She fiddled with the glass in her hands.
“You can put it down,” he said, acknowledging her uncertainty.
She placed the glass down on the table and the glass on glass knock echoed in the office space. “It’s refreshing to see you take your environmental policy seriously,” she said with contentment.
He allowed a real smile to cross his lips and his eyes finally sparkled. “I nearly caused your dehydration with the lack of easy refreshments, so I don’t imagine you being a fan of it.”
She smiled. “It just goes to show how used to grabbing a bottle of water we are, but no, it’s refreshing in its own right.” He was about to speak when she realised she hadn’t even introduced herself. “Oh right, Amahle Peter from The Salexis Agency.” She reached over the desk to shake his hand.
He politely shook it. “Simeon Breitenbach, nice to officially meet you.”
“Sorry, I’m quite nervous and this is my first…job for Salexis. I’m not quite into it yet.” It sounded horrible, and anyone who would listen in at that moment would think it was about sex.
“It’s why I chose to meet you,” he said, sounding uncomfortable.
“Uh, right, Jody mentioned that,” she quickly countered, nodding her head and trying her best to keep the conversation going.
“Jody? I thought a woman named Alexa owned Salexis?” he said, and it seemed he only then fully saw the wordplay on the owner’s name.
“Oh, no, Jody is my handler…which sounds odd, but she drives me to where I need to be, babysits me in the lesser sense, and also ensures nothing nasty goes down. I think she’ll also deal with debriefing and NDAs for certain situations.” She was frowning to herself, as it kept sounding worse. “Anyway, this is meant to be an interview to see if we connect. So do you have any questions?” she asked, looking him head on and sitting upright to be more professional while realising if they were to fake a relationship, looking professional was the last thing she needed in order to convince the people they were trying to fool.
“Right, okay,” he said, sitting forward and thinking it over. “I first want to know why do you do this? And why do you think we matched?” he blatantly asked.
She looked at him and noted the back of the photo frame on his desk. Recalling what Alexa said about him losing his fiancée and reaching out to Salexis to help clear his media image, she formulated an answer.
“I was told of your loss and I’m so sorry about that,” she said, sounding far too insincere.
His demeanour became completely closed off again and it was confirmed to be the core reason to why she was there.
“I suppose knowing that about you and knowing you aren’t just some guy using the service to appear more appealing to the media, made you seem less false than the others I have seen match up,” she added to try and save herself.
He didn’t quite believe it.
She shook her head, realising that she wasn’t even selling it to herself, so she did what she told her patients to do—she was going with the truth. “To be honest, I need the money, and I’m not dating, nor do I plan to anytime soon. With a fake relationship, should you choose me, I can appease everyone grinding me down with questions I have no answers for. And while I’ll be faking it with you, both of us will have peace and I can focus on getting my own practise, while you get to deal with whatever you’re still going through.” The last part came off harsher than she had intended to, but at least it was out there.
He softly nodded his head. “How did Salexis…get you? I’m a bit concerned over how they obtain their daters.”
“They’re really not dodgy, I also worried at first, but I saw an ad in the newspaper, oddly enough,” she said recalling how completely illegal she thought it must have been when she saw the countless beautiful people in one place, during her first interview. “It was definitely discreet, but I was meant to psych eval new daters and also profile clients for them,” she said, letting out a long sigh.
“How did you become a dater then?” He seemed confused, and she noted a tiny scar at the side of his lip that crinkled whenever he spoke.
“Money-wise, it’s not the best move, but I overheard when they spoke about you. How they weren’t sure who to match with you, and I added my name.” She checked his reaction, but he showed nothing. “I kind of need the fake relationship cover as much as the money.”
“I’m glad you’re more forthcoming than the others,” he said, sounding more disappointed than she would’ve expected, as he sat back in his chair.
“I didn’t know they sent others.” She honestly thought she was the first.
“Two, but I couldn’t believe their sincerity, so it wouldn’t have lasted long enough for the media to accept the relationship I’m aiming for is real,” he answered with what seemed reassurance.
“Because you’re an aimless soul,” she whispered to herself, as that was why she was sitting there. He only nodded, clearly agreeing with her statement.
It turned quiet for a few seconds and she stared into his eyes, only to find the broken shell of herself in him. In the silence, she believed, he found the same. It was like looking in the mirror and seeing the nothing stare back that made her realise her suspicion that his loss had as much impact on him, as her own. The fact that she lost her husband and him his fiancée to the same disease held its power, but there was so much more beneath the surface.
“Anyway,” he snapped her out of her thoughts as he began speaking, “I’ll let Alexa know my decision by the end of the day. I heard what I needed, thank you,” he said in a clipped tone, rising from his seat. She did the same, then they began heading toward the door.
Midway there, she turned on her heel to face him. “I just wanted to say before I leave that I saw information leaflets for the Machi Foundation, that you and your fiancée began.”
He seemed stunned in that second.
“You’re doing her a great honour by continuing it and helping so many in the process, it’s truly inspiring.” She meant every word and needed it to be said, in case she didn’t see him again.
“Thanks,” he said, staying put, while she made her way to the door.
Reaching it, she turned back. “It was nice to meet you. Goodbye, Mr. Breitenbach.”
“Bye, Ms. Peters,” was all he said, as she exited the office and closed the door.
“So, should I schedule another appointment?” Thandi asked with a teenage-like tone.
“Uhm, no, I don’t think so. Goodbye and have a lovely day.” Amahle headed toward the elevator and let out a heavy sigh. She was left in limbo, as one moment it felt like all went well, and the other she was certain Alexa was going to terminate her employment the moment she stepped back into the headquarters.
The amount of people weaving through the lobby had her hoping most of them were there seeking justice for the right reasons, while she handed in her pass at the security desk. Stepping outside, the Cape Doctor winds ripped past her and she finally felt like she was back in her hometown, but before she could fully appreciate the moment, a car hooter was blaring a few metres away.
She looked at it and saw the last person at Salexis she wanted to be her handler, waving at her. It wasn’t that Jody was a bad person or that she wasn’t a good match for her, but her motherly ins
tinct seeped into her work, and that was the last thing Amahle wanted to add to her list of issues. Heading to the car, she got in and kicked off the heels that had thoroughly dug themselves into her skin, leaving blisters.
“Well, you sure made an impression,” Jody commented with her Capetonian accent.
“Excuse me?” She frowned at her while rubbing at her feet.
“He accepted you,” Jody said far too enthusiastically.
Her mind went numb.
“Alexa just called that we need to go sign your contract, and by next week you’ll be his official dater,” she added with excitement Amahle wasn’t quite ready to share.
“But…I swore I lost him at the end,” she admitted.
“No. Your first assignment is that ischaemic stroke awareness and research fundraiser next week. You’re officially in, so welcome to Salexis and prepare to have your life taken over,” Jody said with a smile, clearly pleased, as she would also earn commission from this.
Amahle sat back in her seat, staring up at the building as Jody started the car. It had to be her compliment at the end, showing she cared for the cause, or simply acknowledging his charity work that had changed his mind, but before her thoughts could continue running amok, Jody’s motherly instinct saved her.
“Safety belt,” Jody said, and as Amahle pulled the belt over her shoulder, she wondered if she hadn’t been approved, as what Mr. Breitenbach saw in her was, in fact, the same as what she saw in him.
Themselves.
One Week Later…
Two hours before the fundraiser, Amahle found herself in Mr. Breitenbach’s office once more. He was pacing along the glass wall, the sunset over the city playing as his backdrop. In a tux that emphasised his lean build, he looked ready, but she still needed to be briefed, and at this stage, they were far from convincing others, let alone his family, that they were an actual couple, and she barely knew a single truth about him.
