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“They had no idea the show would be such a hit. That’s why it
was a one-season deal with the option to renew, the five-year clause tacked on just as a guarantee. Nobody—I mean nobody—thought you would actually go five years and still be a virgin. Hell, they thought it would be done in one season. If you even made it that long. I mean, who goes a whole year with the hottest women in the world begging to fuck them and still remains a virgin?”
Me. That’s fucking who.
“Okay. But I did. For five years. Now it’s time to pay up.” I sneer at Lola. “There’s nothing that could make me walk away from two billion dollars with only ten weeks to go.”
Chase grimaces. “That’s the problem. The network never had any idea this would happen. That it was even a possibility. That clause was just thrown in there to get you to sign. The truth is, they just don’t have that kind of money to pay up.”
I smirk. Too fucking bad. I earned that money and I’ll fucking get it. I look at Chase for another second, and then I turn back to Lola.
“Well, I guess I’m about to own myself a network then.”
And I push the button to end the call.
Ashley
As I sit in the limo cruising through Times Square, I barely notice anything going on around me. I’m too busy trying to figure out where the driver is taking me and whom I’m going to see. My assistant didn’t tell me anything more than that I was supposed to get into the limo.
I have no clue whom I’m about to meet. All I know is that if it weren’t lucrative, I wouldn’t be on my way to this mystery meeting.
When the limo stops in front of the ABN—the American Broadcasting Network—I pause. A TV network? This is new. I normally get hired to seduce businessmen and politicians. Do they want me to do a job for one of their celebrities? I’m not opposed to it. It’s just not something I’ve done before.
Someone pulls the limo door open and extends a hand to me, and I take it and climb out. A security guard dressed in a black suit, complete with dark glasses and an earpiece is standing there ready to escort me. What is this, the fucking Matrix?
I laugh a little to myself, but follow the burly guy inside. Once we’re in the elevator, I watch in silence as he pushes the button for the top floor. I want to ask him where we’re going and whom I’m meeting, but I have a feeling he wouldn’t say anything in response. That’s how it works with these hired goons, right?
When the elevator doors whoosh open, Security Steve leads me down the hall to two huge double doors at the end of the hall. The nameplate on the wooden doors reads Lola Anders.
Shit. I know who she is. She’s in charge of the whole ABN network. This must be a big deal. And apparently super secret for us to be meeting so late at night like this. It’s not uncommon for me to have these clandestine meetings considering the sensitive nature of my work and the clients I take on, but this feels different. Huge.
The security goon speaks into his earpiece, and then the door clicks and he pushes it open, holding it for me to enter. I go in and he shuts it silently behind me. Okay then.
I glance around, taking in the ornate office, my eye coming to rest on a woman sitting at a huge desk with a smile on her face. A smile that feels as fake as the blonde hair framing her face.
“Ms. Taylor,” she begins.
“Call me Ashley,” I interrupt.
She nods curtly. “Ashley. Please, come forward.”
I arch a brow. She’s acting like she’s the fucking queen or something. Like, does she want me to curtsy or some shit?
Smiling at my train of thought, I take a few steps forward.
Lola dives right in.
“Ashley, I just got off the phone with Carter Blaine. Do you know who he is?”
A shiver races down my spine, settling in between my legs with a little tingle. I feel my pussy clench just at the mention of his name, and as I picture his gorgeous body, I know I’m getting wet.
Because what woman doesn’t know Carter Blaine? He’s only been the object of my late night fantasies for I don’t even know how long. I swallow against the desire that’s coursing through my body just at the memory of me touching myself at my job earlier. A mental image of Carter Blaine was what got me through that god-awful encounter with the senator.
I clear my throat when I realize Lola is watching me carefully. Shit, can she tell how turned on I am right now? My voice comes out surprisingly cool and collected when I say, “Yes, I know who he is.”
Lola steeples her fingers and continues to scrutinize me. “Good. I have a job offer for you.”
Holy fucking hell. Is her target Carter? Please God let it be Carter. Because who doesn’t want a shot at Carter Blaine? He’s the most handsome man in America—probably the world. Women go after him week after week, wanting to be the one to break him. Or, more accurately, wanting to be his true love. Because his pure strength of will in keeping his virginity has led many to believe that he’s holding out for The One.
