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I grab the handle and open it without hesitation. I don’t want him to think I’m a scared little girl he can order around or doesn’t know what she’s getting into. I’ve seen lots of men like him, and I have no problem eating them for breakfast.
The office I walk into leaves me almost stunned. The desk is solid wood, imposing, with etching so ornate I wouldn’t be surprised if it came directly from some French castle. The armchair where he sits resembles a dark leather throne, and the mammoth wooden bookcase carved on the wall behind him is loaded with awards won by the broadcaster. The décor in here is so tacky I question for a moment if Evan, with his refined tastes, is really his son.
The smug and slimy smile he flashes as he undresses me with his eyes twists my stomach with disgust, but I wear the detached expression I’ve perfected over the years.
“I see you’re not as stupid as I thought.”
The arrogance of this man leaves me almost breathless. “What made you think I was?” I ask as I sit in the chair across from him without waiting for him to invite me. I don’t want to be intimidated by his presence.
The man shrugs and rests a pair of fingers on his lips, his gaze never leaving my breasts squeezed into the red dress I wore to dinner. The watch, covered in diamonds, appears from under his shirt cuff and I realize the abysmal difference in class between him and Evan. Physically they are very similar, same dark hair and gray eyes, but the similarity ends there.
“Sexy women are usually not equipped with a big brain. But I see you have understood there are opportunities, or you would not be in this room.” He finally looks me in the eyes, and I preferred it when his attention was entirely devoted to my nipples. I don’t think I’ve ever seen such a slimy expression, made even worse by a coldness that makes me believe there’s no heart in that chest.
I doubt this man has ever stopped to value people, especially women. I get the impression he’s someone who takes everything without asking, and always wins. It’s not just a matter of arrogance. From the way he’s looking at me, the way he behaved at the restaurant with Evan, and how he spoke so carelessly of the consequences, I get the feeling he’s never been held accountable for his actions. He has that vein of entitlement and power that makes me uncomfortable because that kind of man stops at nothing until he has obtained it. I wonder how he found a woman willing enough to marry him and have two children by him.
“Maybe if you paid more attention to the people around you, you’d be surprised at how many interesting things they have to say.” I cross my legs and realize that nothing I say attracts his attention like my body. He has no interest in getting to know the women he takes to bed—me or a silent prostitute kneeling under that desk are the same to him, other than the price.
“I don’t have time to listen to people. I pay them to do what I say, not to hear what comes out of their mouths.”
He certainly doesn’t rely on his charm and personality to woo them. “Well, since this is the only topic that seems to interest you, let’s get straight to the point. I’ll give you one night with me on two non-negotiable conditions. First, you sign this paper agreeing to give Evan the trust fund and then to disappear from his life completely.” I present the contract that I drafted and printed at the hotel before coming here. He figured wrong if he thought I was a naïve little girl. “And I want a check in my name for four hundred and ninety thousand dollars. Without these two pieces of paper, I will leave this office.”
The man bursts out laughing and shakes his head. “What makes you think you’re worth all that money? I can get dozens of better fucks than you for free.”
I smile and tilt my head, studying him. “No one you take to bed does it for free, it’s just that my price is higher. You wanted to fuck me the moment I set foot in that restaurant, and you certainly aren’t short on money. At the end of the day, what you’re paying is my fee. You can’t use the rest of the money anyway because it’s Evan’s name on that trust fund. You know he will never come back to you. You’ve been hoping for more than ten years, but he never did. Nor will he now, and I know this because, right now, he’s on a plane to New York. He didn’t even look back when he left the hotel. The real question is, are you up to a night with me, or are you just someone who boasts about being a man but actually needs the help of a little pill?” I see my bluff has an effect because his jaw twitches. The truth is that I have no idea where Evan is right now. I assume he is in his room, but I’m not sure.
He thinks about it for a long moment, and I wonder if I went too far. Questioning the virility of a man like him doesn’t always work.
“You know what? It will be fun to see you begging to be fucked. I accept your proposal, but I also have two conditions.”
If he thinks he has me in the palm of his hand, he’s underestimating me. “Go ahead.”
“The first is that you do everything I demand without protesting or refusing tonight. The second is that you tell me what you need the four hundred and ninety thousand dollars for. It’s an exact figure. You could shoot much higher but chose just that. That intrigues me.”
Accepting to do whatever he wants is very risky. Someone like him might have the most depraved requests, which I could regret for the rest of my life. But if I do it, Evan could free himself from the grip of his family, his father, and this environment that crushes him. My mother could be debt-free, and I would no longer have to sleep with men who leave gifts on the nightstand before I even put my panties back on.
But it’s Evan’s tired and worried face, the memory of seeing him throw up in an alley in Manhattan, the humiliating words he had to swallow to try and solve a problem that has tormented him for so long and is suffocating him, that makes me decide to take a risk. If I have to walk on hot coals, climb Everest, or swim in a tank full of sharks to help him, I will. If the price to pay for Evan’s happiness is to sleep with this man, I will swallow my disgust and pay for it without any regrets.
“I accept your conditions.”
The cold smirk on his face makes my stomach turn, but I swallow the acidic taste in my throat and let the detached calm I use in these moments fill my chest.
“Tell me the reason for that figure.”
“I need it to pay off my student loans and the mortgage on my mother’s house.”
“Why didn’t you ask for something extra? I would have paid so much more.”
“Because I’m not a prostitute. I don’t have sex as a profession. It’s just a way to get what I need. Once I’ve got it, I’ll go back to my life.”
The man gets up and walks around the desk and behind my chair. He puts his hands on the backrest and lowers himself until I feel his warm breath on my neck.
“All women are whores. It’s just that some are honest, while others pretend to be holy.”
I wonder if anyone has ever punched him in the face. How do the people who work for him maintain his decent public façade, given his deranged character? He is so repugnant I’m beginning to believe my choice has far more implications than I counted on. I’ve always been someone who knows how to make decisions on the fly, seizing opportunities as they come by assessing the benefits. In this case, something much deeper and more perverse that I hadn’t noticed is at play, and the realization creeps into my stomach along with fear. If I pull back now, I’ll lose the only advantage I have over this man, but if I continue, I’m afraid of losing much more.
***
We arrive at the entrance to the private pier after sharing a limousine from his office. He summons the two security men guarding his yacht to go for a ride. The men study me for endless moments—either to assess if I am a threat to their boss or out of pity toward me. One of them is entirely unreadable, but the other seems unable to hide the pain he feels as he glances from Aaron, who is getting on the boat, to me. It’s a look that makes my skin crawl, and I struggle to swallow.
