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And every article used his first name.
Nathan.
Nathan Locke: real estate genius.
Nathan Locke: brilliant mind.
Nathan Locke: eligible bachelor.
Somehow, no matter what the articles said, I couldn’t quite come to terms with the fact that he had a real, legitimate name. I always just thought of him as Locke, or Mr. Locke. Maybe it was better that way.
At one point, I looked at pictures of him and his family. His dad, before he died, had always been smiling. Locke’s sister, Rebecca, always had a grin on her face, too. They seemed so very happy together that it was kind of sad to see how everything had changed for them.
And no matter how deep or how far I looked, I could never quite find anything about Locke’s mom.
There was a story there, but it was probably one I didn’t really want to know. Wasn’t that how things always worked out? Sometimes there was some sort of dark, wicked secret, but it was the kind of problem that made you feel sick when you discovered it. I stopped looking before I discovered anything that could make me feel really sick or upset.
I stopped because if I kept digging, I was eventually going to decide not to go over on Saturday, and that wasn’t really an option for me.
I wanted to go.
Correction: I needed to go.
There was no real way to spin things except for the fact that if I didn’t, I would always wonder what could have been. I would forever question why I hadn’t been brave enough to just give it a chance.
After all, I’d been bold enough to make out with the richest guy in Ruby City. That had been scary as fuck. If I could do that, I could handle this. I could handle a day of being his assistant, or whatever it was that he wanted from me.
When my big morning arrived, I chose to wear a pink sundress with a matching bra and black panties. The dress was dark enough that the panties didn’t show through the back, so I didn’t need a slip or anything else underneath. I wore plain black ballet flats, which were both comfortable and practical. They were cute, though, and I felt like I looked good.
Professional.
Decent.
I curled my dark hair and pinned it up into a loose bun, and then I put on some makeup, but only just a little. Locke might like dating girls who loved to cake on their makeup, but I didn’t know how to do that. Besides, we weren’t actually dating. He was just using me for some reason, for a little while. Then, when he was finished with me, he’d tell me the truth.
Or maybe he wouldn’t.
I had to accept the fact that he might not allow me to know the information he’d promised me. Maybe he didn’t actually know who my dad was.
Then again, maybe he did.
I was willing to take a gamble.
Just as I was about to head out of the door, I got a text.
LOOKING FORWARD TO SEEING YOU. LEAVE THE PANTIES AT HOME AND TELL AMBER YOU’RE HERE TO SEE ME. SHE’LL LET YOU UP.
I stared at the message from an unknown number. Of course, it was him. It had to be from him. Nobody else would even think about sending something like that, and unfortunately, I knew it was another sort of weird test.
Or maybe it was just part of a game.
Staring at my phone, I had to make a quick decision because it was almost time to leave. Was I actually going to take off my panties before I went? Was I really going to help him out without anything on under my sundress?
On a whim, I pulled them off and tossed them onto my bed. Then I left my bedroom, left the house, and went down to where I’d parked my car in front of the house. Before I could talk myself out of it, I got inside and drove toward Locke’s office.
I was probably making a huge mistake.
Parking was easy, but I was wildly aware of the fact that I didn’t have anything on under my dress. I rode in the elevator with a man in a suit who looked over at me and smiled.
