Me: I am available.
Not even a minute later, all the details come rolling through.
Dates for Hire: Henry will meet you at your door. The dress will be sent to you earlier in the day. You’ll be going to the Martinez and Associates Real Estate building, 12thfloor. Everything else will be inside the box. Should you have any questions, please feel free to reach out. Your payout will be ten thousand dollars after our portion.
I blink my eyes, screaming internally because if I did it out loud, my neighbors would either bang on the floor below me, the wall beside me, my front door, or call the cops, thinking the worst. Instead, I keep it in and go in the next direction, knowing now that sleep will not be happening, especially being worried that I could screw this whole thing up. Plus, if I can make even half of that a few times a month, it won’t be long until my dreams can finally come true. No more Doctor Manning or Leah being weird. I won’t have to be an employee ofDates for Hire. I’ll be my own boss, and I love the sound of that, even if it means a shit ton of sleepless nights.
FIVE
Santiago
The mottoLive to work,not work to livecomes to mind, seeing as how I’m here on a Saturday night much like I am every weekend that requires my attention. I should have left hours ago for the charity event my company puts on yearly. I didn’t, though, because that fucking fool of a brother I have didn’t control the diva, known to the world as Skye Alonzo, an up and coming singer. My associate called me, begging to be relinquished from her, saying she wouldn’t heed his advice, didn’t put up the full asking price, and was adamant she would get the place. I took over. It wasn’t fair that my brother, who refuses to come work for me, instead is in public relations himself. A conundrum of sorts seeing as how he fucks everything he works with or works for. It’s another problem for another day, one that will eventually have him screwing himself. This afternoon, I took it upon myself to personally escort Miss Alonzo to a place I found, within her price range, that would include going full price. She liked it. The offer was placed. The only issue was the timeline in which Skye needed to be living at the residence in order to adhere to her contract. The biggest issue and one I’m trying to smooth over with the seller’s real estate agent. The owners are currently residing in the house and wanted to stay until their house is built. Skye needs the home in two weeks. It’s been a clusterfuck, one I’ve been trying to negotiate all afternoon and well into the evening, missing out on the charity event that’s currently being held across town. Where I should be. Not that I love to deal with the comings and goings of any holiday event, especially Christmas. People thinking they need to buy love spend every fucking minute celebrating, singing bullshit songs, eating till their heart’s content. Then there’s after Christmas, making New Year resolutions you know won’t last but more than a few days. It’s all too much. I’d rather work than deal with any of that.
“Hello,” I answer my desk phone with annoyance. Everyone surrounding me is bright and chipper, excited over Christmas this and Christmas that when all I want is a bit of fucking peace, something this damn phone is not giving me.
“Hello, Mr. Martinez. You have a gift downstairs that was sent by your brother.” Mario sounds hesitant at best. Knowing my brother, he pushed his way through this whole gift giving thing. Did I mention that not only do I loathe this holiday spirit everyone is so delighted over and birthdays, at this age what’s the big fucking deal.
“I don’t want to know, do I?” I ask Mario, taking a deep breath, unsure of how this is going to play out. Knowing my brother, I’m going to want to wring his fucking neck, maybe even break a bone or two. If that were to happen, though, our mother would still grab the nearest thing she could and whip us both up the side of the head. We may be ten years apart in age, but that doesn’t mean we didn’t have our fair share of fights, especially when Alejandro was in his later teen years, full of testosterone, raging hormones, and behaved like a bull in a China shop. My father would stay seated in his recliner, telling Mom to leave the boys be, never getting between the two of us when one of his escapades would come knocking on the door, tears streaming down their face. Then there was the one girl who had me pissed as fuck at my brother. She claimed she was pregnant. The idiot didn’t use a damn condom when he knows our family name comes from money. That’s when I broke his nose. Mom was swearing up and down in our native language, Dad came out of his recliner faster than I’d ever seen, and I’m pretty sure if it weren’t for Alejandro being on the floor, blood gushing from where I punched him, he would have done more damage as well. Thankfully, the girl wasn’t pregnant with Alejandro’s child, or pregnant at all. It was a valuable lesson for my brother, but it didn’t teach him to quit sticking his dick in any woman who would allow it. He did keep his junk wrapped, stopped using his charms on them or dropping the “L” word, and made sure they knew the score before anything happened.
“I’m afraid not.” My brother and I are night and day. We may look a lot alike, but that’s where the similarities end. Our personalities couldn’t be more different. Where I’m a workaholic, Alejandro does the bare minimum. I don’t take just any woman for a ride, choosing to be selective. The same couldn’t be said for him.
“Send whatever it is up, then go on home, too. I won’t be much longer, and there’s no use for the both of us to be here,” I tell Mario, patience wearing thin after dealing with Alejandro and the bullshit that comes along with him. It’s time he and I had a talk. No more of this sending gifts, asking for help for his fuck-them-and-leave-them.
“Only if you’re sure, Mr. Martinez,” he states.
“I am. See you next week.” I hang up the phone and rub my temples, preparing for who the fuck knows what Alejandro has up his sleeve, safe in the knowledge that at least he’s not here to watch when I more than likely trash the present. If only he understood the only gift I need is him not being a reprobate. Too bad that will never happen.
SIX
Cadence
My nerves are a mess.The dress Rachel sent over is tight, revealing, and did I mention tight? I mean, sure, it’s pretty, but Jesus, how do people breathe in this get-up? After Mario announced my presence, I was escorted to the elevator, where the nice, older man pressed the button to open the doors, using a card to slide over the pad inside the square box I stood inside alone. The whooshing noise of it carrying me up to what I now realize is the top of the building has my stomach doing somersaults. This should be easy. Go inside to meet my date, spend the obligated time with him, and then go home. Easy-peasy. Yet it has my nerves completely on edge.
The dinging of the elevator and the the doors sliding open do not help in the least. I guess it’s a good thing no one is at the dark mahogany wood table. It screams wealth. The sign above it in what I’m assuming is metal, etched like the one downstairs, has the logoMartinez and Associateson it, in a design that is timeless and classic while still being edgy. My hand goes to my stomach, attempting to calm myself down, while the other pulls at the hem of my dress, which so happens to make my breasts pop out more. I’m damned if I do and damned if I don’t. Maybe I should call Hendrix, let her talk me out of this. I heard her apprehension on the phone, but after talking to my cousin again, it seemed like an easy thing to do then. Now, not so much.
“You can do this, Cadence. Think about your future, your jewelry business. No more weirdo Leah and Doctor Manning. A few dates, and you’ll be set up for success,” I tell myself, knowing I have a few more steps until I’ll be at my date’s door, knocking like the older gentlemen downstairs told me to do. The pep talk must do me some good because before I can overthink and process what to do next, my feet are carrying me to the large double doors. There’s no insignia on it. Heck, I don’t even know the guy’s name I’m supposed to go on a date with. How is that for details? Though, I shouldn’t be surprised. There’s a reason for the anonymity when usingDates for Hire.
I take one last deep breath and blow it out, wishing there were a mirror handy to make sure my hair didn’t decide to double in volume with the light mist that came out of nowhere this evening. It made for a tricky time getting in and out of the car while wearing four-inch stiletto heels. I’ll be honest. I practiced all afternoon so I wouldn’t fall flat on my face. Instead, I smooth my long hair down, using the oil from my sweat-slicked hands to help any frizz that may have popped up. There’s nothing else holding me up. It’s now or never. My hand rises in a fist, the knuckles knocking on the door, and the voice on the other end sends a shiver up my spine.
“Enter.” It’s deep, an ebb of darkness filtering through the mammoth of what I’m sure is a thick piece of wood judging by the rest of the place, so how he heard my knock, I’m unsure. My hand twists the knob. The heaviness has me taking my time, unprepared that it would take this much muscle to open a door. My head is downward, watching myself as I take a tentative step, not knowing what’s to come or where my feet will lead me, and once I’m inside, I’m in a state of shock. My eyes are unsure of where to land. The timeless design of the place, mixed with a new- and old-world, feel has me in awe. It isn’t until the man of the hour clears his throat that I know I’m completely in over my head because he’s none other than the most eligible, untouchable bachelor and also wealthiest realtor of LA, Santiago Martinez. One would think that the lightbulb would go off, seeing as how this is his building. Even I know that. It was the unknown that threw me off. Why would a man as beautiful as Santiago be here on a Saturday night? And why would he need a date when he could have anyone at his beck and call?
“Are you going to stand there all evening, or are you going to enter?” Okay, so maybe there is a reason he’s hired a date. It takes me a few moments to get my beating heart under control before doing as he asked. Tonight is definitely going to be different, that’s for sure.
SEVEN
Santiago
“Alejandro,what do you fucking want now?” My phone rang just as the woman steps inside my office, the door still left ajar, which I’m pissed about as well. I don’t know what the fuck is going on, but the woman before me looks like a deer in the headlights on a lonely two-lane road. Not that there’s a lot of that around here in a busy and crowded street.
“I heard your present made it. Tell me, big brother, what do you think?” I have no idea what he’s talking about.
“There’s a woman in my office. I guess I should be glad she isn’t jumping out of a cake singingHappy Birthday.” Never in my life have I seen a beauty like hers. She’s the epitome of looking innocent with her pouty lips that you can tell are either natural, or maybe she’s bitten them until they’ve achieved their plumpness. She’s got dark hair, high cheekbones, and skin that’s unmarred, tan in color. My fists clench, wanting to run them along her body. The tight dress is plastered against her body, showing off her hourglass figure, breasts spilling out of the strapless dress, hips made for gripping while you’re fucking her tight cunt, legs that you want wrapped around your hips or head while you eat what you’re hoping is the tastiest pussy ever.
“Well, since you haven’t gotten laid in over two years, I figured I’d help you out,” Alejandro says like this isn’t a big deal.
“You fucking did what?” I’m going to fucking kill my little brother. The woman looks upset. Not that any of this is her fault. Oh no, this has Alejandro Martinez written all over it. I shake my head, annoyed with the thoughts of taking her when he’s just admitted to his wrongdoing. I’m no better than him. When she first appeared, I assumed it was to hand-deliver some kind of gag gift. Not this, never fucking this.
“Since you’re not going to get pussy on your own, I’m bringing pussy to you. Happy fortieth, big brother. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”