The Arrangement 3
Page 9

The air is crisp and cold. My breath makes little white clouds the moment I walk outside. I tug my ratty sweater over my head, carefully not to mess up my hair. I think about the way I felt earlier today, the way Sean called me on torturing myself with the weather. Maybe I should stop doing that. I don’t know. It’s one of the few comforts I have. How fucked up is that? Freezing myself is comforting. Damn, I need a shrink.
I spray the can of ether and slam the hood shut. Jumping in, I start the car. It warbles to life sounding like a spastic birdsong. I rev the engine and back out. The car doesn’t stall once on my way to Miss Black’s. Tonight might not suck so much after all.
Holy hell, was I wrong.
CHAPTER 10
I strip and weigh in, again. It seems redundant since I was here last night, but since Sean let me leave for the middle of the day, Miss Black does everything again. I’m wearing the same dress as yesterday. I didn’t have anything else.
Miss Black holds it out and shakes her head. “This is a major infraction.” She takes the dress and tosses it onto her chair. It sits behind her desk getting wrinkled. I’m standing in front of her in my freshly laundered lingerie from the other night. She’s not happy about that either.
“I haven’t been paid, yet. I took this job because I’m broke. This is all I have.”
“Yes, well. Be glad that we have some wardrobe for photo shoots.” She plucks something from her closet. “Put this on.” It’s a tiny black piece of fabric that looks way too small to be a dress.
I eye it and do what she says. As I’m wiggling into the dress, Black takes a box from the bottom drawer of her desk and unlocks it. She removes cash and the book I saw the first night that I was here with Mel. I barely have the dress on when she says, “Leave it. It’s supposed to sit high on the thigh, but this—” she tugs the neckline, straightening it. The dress is form fitting. I feel like a sausage shoved into a balloon. There’s no way I look hot, but I don’t comment. The black dress clings to me. There’s a keyhole opening that reveals my cleavage. The skirt hugs my hips tightly and barely covers my panties.
“There, that’s better. Now turn.” I do as she says. Miss Black grabs my shoulders and I stop. I feel her gaze on my back. She thrusts her hand forward. “Give them to me. You can’t wear that kind of panty with this dress. Panty lines are ungodly.”
I freeze. I am not going commando in this tiny skirt. “I don’t think—” I start to say, but she cuts me off.
Snapping her fingers, Miss Black huffs, “No one cares that you were prude, Avery. Hand over the panties so we can get on with things.” Reluctantly, I shimmy them down and fork them over. I tug at the hem of the dress, but Miss Black slaps my hands away. “Leave it. Oh, and before I forget, here’s an advance on your paycheck. Spend it wisely.” She hands me several large bills. I reach for the money and stuff it in my purse.
Miss Black continues, “You can pick up your clothes tomorrow when you check in. One more thing before you leave. Here is your next client.” She turns the big book toward me and points to a page. “I need you to update your preferences sheet and sign.”
I glance at the papers. The man is a little older, but still attractive. He’s not Sean. With every fiber of my being, I don’t want to do this, but I have no choice. I lift the pen and sign the contract. There. Done. I start to walk away.
Miss Black stops me, “Avery, your preference sheet?” She pushes it toward me and sits down behind her desk. I look back at the paper.
“I don’t care. Whatever he wants.”
Black looks at me like I don’t understand what I’ve said. “Avery, dear, I think you’ll—”
“I don’t care,” I say more poignantly this time. “Whatever he wants. It’s all the same to me.”
Black smiles like she won the lottery. “I’m pleased to hear it. You’ll fetch a higher price with that attitude.”
I smile back at her like I’m excited, but I’m not. I leave the building and duck into the limo waiting at the curb. I slip back into my seat and slouch. I pick at my nails for a moment and then stop so that I won’t ruin the polish.
How quickly things change. A few nights ago I was so nervous that I nearly puked. Now, I just want to go and get it over with. Staring out the window, I remind myself that this isn’t real. It doesn’t matter what Sean says or does, this isn’t love.
CHAPTER 11
I hate how short my dress is, but I walk with confidence the way Miss Black told me to and step into the elevator. When I emerge, the hotel restaurant is in front of me. I pass the hostess at the podium and wave at her, like I’m here every day. Lately, I’ve been here too much. She nods and I walk into the restaurant, past poshly decorated tables to find Sean seated in the same location in the back. He has that look on his face, and the same dark intensity lurks behind his eyes that was there the first night.
Lifting his gaze, Sean runs his eyes over me, taking in every curve. His lips don’t move. There’s no expression on his face. I don’t sit. Instead, I stand there, waiting for him to say something. Sean’s cold again. This feels like a business transaction and nothing more. Now I understand why he does it. It’s because he has to. There’s no way to be both warm and contained at the same time.
Sean lifts his steely gaze. I step forward and press my finger to the monogram on his plate. His eyes lock with mine. My heart tries to race faster when he looks at me, but I forbid it. I can be cold, too. I shut everyone else out. What’s one more person? I’m not sure why I let him into my messed up life in the first place.
Sean arches a brow at me, but my meaning is clear. Whatever happened this morning is gone. Things are back to the status quo now. Sean nods and extends his arm, waving me to sit. “Avery,” he says my name like we’re strangers.
My stomach feels like I ate a window—wood, glass, and all—and churns uncomfortably. The waiter appears from nowhere when I take my seat. He pulls back the chair for me and I sit down. Sean orders wine and the waiter disappears.
“Nice dress,” he says, carelessly.
“Nice tie,” I say, leaning to the side, like I don’t care. Sean looks stunning. He’s wearing a black suit with a black shirt. His silk tie is midnight blue which makes his eyes look bluer than I would have thought possible.
Sean smirks. “I wouldn’t have thought you’d wear something like that.” Sean is mirroring me. I pretend not to notice. I sit up and tilt my head, making my hair fall over my shoulder.
“Yeah, well, it turns out that I do.” I lean closer to him and give him a lazy smile. “Before I left, Black stripped me and stole my panties, so half the work’s done for you.” I wink and sit back.
Sean is still leaning forward. His cool façade cracks a little. “You’re not wearing panties under that?” I shake my head slowly and smile at him. It seems to do something to him, but he tries to hide it. Sean’s voice sounds a little too breathy when he speaks. “Well then, it’s only fair to tell you that…” he leans closer. I lean in to hear him whisper, taking a sip of wine as he speaks. “I’m not wearing any panties either.”
I try so hard not to react to him, but I can’t help it. I snort laugh and choke on the wine. It’s so embarrassing. I keep coughing and I can’t stop. Sean smiles at first and then looks concerned. He moves his chair closer to me, leaning in and placing his hand on my back. “Are you okay?”
I punch his arm and he sits back and smiles. Everyone is looking at us. “You’re such an ass,” I hiss.
Sean scoots back to his place. The grin on his face lights him up. I can’t picture him looking more perfect than he does right now. “You started it, Miss Smith. I suggest you only step up to the net if you intend to play hard.”
“Tennis euphemisms? Really? Nothing says highbrow like tennis,” I lift the glass and make snobby face. I suck at not letting him affect me. Within minutes of arriving, Sean cracked my shell and is pulling me out, but I can’t have it.
“Well, the balls are the right size…” he opens his hands like he’s explaining something that would be rational.
I laugh. I can’t help it. “Not for you, they’re not.”
“Flattery will not get you anywhere, Miss Smith.”
“I already have a free pass into your panties after dinner, Mr. Jones. I expect my flattery to get me everywhere and then some.” I sip my wine again with a smug look on my face.
Sean’s expression shifts from neutral to that lazy sultry look that’s so damn hot. “Where exactly is the and then some. It sounds titillating.” He strokes his chin, drawing my eye to his lips as he does it.
“Check my preference sheet. It’s recently been updated.”
Sean’s smirk falters, but he puts it back. The movement is so fast that I’m not sure I saw it. Maybe I just hope that I did. “Is that so?”
I nod and tap my finger nail once against my wine glass. “You can titillate anything you want. No restrictions. No hang ups.”
Sean just stares at me. After a moment, he asks, “Why the change in pace?”
I avert my gaze and trace my finger around the curve of the glass. “Why not? I mean, that is if you’re willing to. Unless, you’re only into fake relationship kind of sex…” Sean stares at my lips like he wants to devour them. He doesn’t speak.
“Oh, come on,” I say, leaning closer to him. I take his tie between my fingers and feel the silky fabric with my thumb. Sean looks at my hand and slowly returns his gaze to my face. “You’ve got to have some fetish or kinky desire, something that you need.” I say the last word slowly, wrapping my lips around the syllables.
Sean sits perfectly still, like he’s under a spell. It breaks when the waiter comes back and puts our food down on the table. Sean lifts his fork. He doesn’t talk about my offer. Instead, he points at me with a fork and says, “Eat.”