“Yeah…” I muttered as I stuffed my purse back into my satchel and straightened my blouse. “We’ll see. How do I look?”
“Professional,” Sara smiled. “You good to drive?”
“It was one glass, Sara,” I replied. “I’m not five years old.”
“Not with those things, you’re not,” she laughed as she got up and jiggled my boobs through my shirt. I slapped her hand away.
“Stop it!” I laughed. “I’ve got to get my shit together!”
“You’re together, babe. Just go over there, look cute and sign on the dotted line.”
“God, you make it sound so nefarious,” I laughed as I grabbed my satchel and headed for the door.
“Go get ‘em, girl!”
I stepped outside, arms tingling and heart racing like I’d just run a 400-meter dash. As I pulled out of the driveway, I realized I was sweating and grabbed my emergency deodorant from my glove box. But of course the blouse I was wearing made it pretty much impossible to use the thing, so I put it back and kept driving, wondering if I was making the biggest mistake of my life.
Being a professional had been so important to me, and I’d worked hard
to build my reputation that had only taken Melissa a day to destroy.
Maybe Sara was right. Maybe I should just give in and let him be my sugar daddy. But something about doing that sort of thing with Alden felt wrong—
Alden? I thought. Did I just call him Alden and not Mr. McLaren?
But why did it feel wrong?
I pondered that the entire way back to his house. The enormous gate that looked like it belonged on a French chateau swung open for me and I parked my beat-up Camry beside a black Bentley and a white Rolls Royce.
“Jesus,” I muttered as I stepped out and walked towards the house.
I was barely pulling myself together when the front door opened. I expected to find Heather, his assistant, welcoming me inside, but instead, I saw Alden standing there with a panty-melting grin on his perfect face.
Fuck, I thought as I walked towards him.
“Hey, you,” he smiled.
“Where’s Heather?” I asked.
“Oh, I sent her home for the night,” he replied. “We don’t need her.”
Well, at least that means the possibility of him asking me for a threesome is out!
“Come on in,” he said, holding the door for me.
“I’ve got it,” I told him, as I put out a hand to hold it for myself, but Alden wasn’t budging.
“I insist,” he smiled. “I have to at least pretend to be a gentleman, right?”
All I could do was laugh nervously as I brushed past him and stepped into the marbled foyer. He’d dimmed the lights, and even though it didn’t seem possible, my heart rate increased as I heard the door latch behind me.
“I looked over your resume,” he told me. How was his voice so sexy too? Was there anything wrong with this man?
He wasn’t wearing his business casual pants and shirt anymore. Instead, he had a pair of designer jogger sweats on and a t-shirt that was probably Gucci or Louis Vuitton or something equally expensive.
His jawline was so sharp I could probably shave zucchini on it and his designer stubble was so perfect it looked like it’d been photoshopped on. I tried not to look at his biceps bulging out of his sleeves or the vein running down his smooth, tan skin.
“I’ve decided to hire you.”