Chapter 13: Chapter Thirteen - What Is In It For Him?

Everly

I sigh as I reach my room door. I wanted to stay out longer, but it was getting cooler, and I didn’t want to get lost. The few hours I have had away from him have been great. It’s a shame I’ll be stuck with him for the rest of the night. I groan before I open the door and step in.

I am met with Orson on the sofa, a scotch in hand. He has a sly look on his face, one I don’t like. “Hello, Emily.”

I freeze on the spot. Did he call me Emily? Surely not. How would he know that name?

“W-w-what did you call me?”

I want to confirm I heard right before I say another word. He downs his scotch, smirks and jumps to his feet. He saunters confidently over to me.

“You heard me, Emily.”

“Don’t call me that.” I snap.

He steps closer, only inches between us. “What is wrong? Am I now allowed to call you that unless I pay you for your services?”

Who does this fucker think he is? My hand automatically lifts to slap him, but he grabs my wrist before I can connect it with his face. I try with the other, but he grabs that too.

He chuckles. “Nice try, but you are too slow.”

“Don’t you ever talk to me like that again. You have no idea!” I hiss, fighting the urge to lift my knee and hit him right in the balls.

I don’t understand how he found out.

“I will talk to you however I please. Do you know the damage that could be done to my company if it got out that one of my employees is a call girl?”

“Oh, poor rich boy, he would lose a little money and get a slap on the wrist. It must be so difficult to be you.”

I yank my wrists from his hold. I know he could fire me, but I refuse to back down and let him think he can treat me how he pleases because of what I do.

“I can fire you for this, you know that, right?”

I would rather not get fired because it would mean I would need to take on more clients until I found another job, but he doesn’t need to know that.

“Then fire me! I am not playing whatever this stupid little game is, and I sure as hell am not going to have you looking down on me, especially since I know the shit you get up to.” I yell, pushing at his chest.

Anger and worry are not a great mix.

Orson swiftly grips my hips and pulls me against his chest. He holds me tightly to him and smirks down at me.

“I never said I was an angel. Why do you do it?”

“It is none of your business. You don’t know me, and what I do away from the office has nothing to do with you.”

“It does. I assume you are doing it for the money, meaning you need more than I pay. You aren’t doing it just for sex because a woman like you can get that any time you want. If it is none of them, then you must have some sort of kink, and the whole things get you off. I want the truth, Everly. This can end in one of two ways. One, I fire you, and your secret is not mine to keep. Two, you are honest with me, and I may be able to make life a little easier for you.”

The smug look has disappeared, and his voice is softer. He is after something.

“If you are thinking of asking me for my services, there is no chance in hell that is happening, no matter how much you offer to pay.”

“As tempting as that is, it isn’t what I am after.”

I eye him suspiciously. “Then what are you after?”

“Let’s have a drink and talk.”

I am confused. Why isn’t he firing me? I thought he was worried about his reputation and business. The fact that he hasn’t fired me on the spot has made me more anxious.

I nod. I would rather he get straight to it, but he won’t tell me until I do what he asks. He pours us both a scotch, and we sit on the sofa. I take a long swig.

“Get to the point. I need to know if you will fire me or not.”

“If you do what I ask and need, your job is safe. But you need to answer my question, why are you doing it?”

“I don’t do it because I want to. I do it because I need to. I owe a significant amount of money, including student loans and medical bills, among other debts. I started about eight months ago. I tried other second jobs first, but none paid what I needed. A friend introduced me to the right people, and that is how I became a call girl. I don’t always have sex with them. Some of them only want dates or company because they are lonely.”

“How much debt?”

“Do I really need to answer that? Let’s just say it is a lot.”

He doesn’t need to know every detail because that will lead to more questions. Questions I don’t want to answer.

“What if I can give you a way out? I will clear all your debt, plus extra, so you don’t have to return to being a call girl.”

“What is the catch?”

There is obviously a catch to it, something that benefits him because there would be no other reason for him to do such a thing.

“There is more than one.” He smirks.

Great, his smugness is back.

“Tell me already because your withholding of information is pissing me off.” I snarl, trying not to lose my shit too much.

“I need you to pretend to like me. No, I need you to pretend to love me. I need you to act like my fiancée. It won’t be for long - just a few months. You will also have to move in with me, or at least make it appear as though you live with me. My father is threatening to cut me out of a massive multi million-dollar deal and give it to my jackass of a brother because he has a wife and needs it more than me. He has his life together, apparently, I don’t. I told my father I was engaged, which made him reconsider his stance. He said he needs proof before he can change his mind.”

I stare at him wide-eyed. “Are you for real right now?”

“Yes. You either agree, or I fire you. The choice is yours…”