Signed, Sealed, Baby

As I sat at the grand conference table in the office, my eyes were pinned to the documents that were laid on the table.

What was I doing?

Was I mad for agreeing to this?

I lifted my eyes for a second to see him standing at the end of the table, his brown eyes ablaze as they locked with my stormy greys.

“Sign the document,” his voice was a low grumble sending shockwaves to my core.

My eyes fell back to the dotted line, my name printed in block capitals.

SKYLAR MARIE REYNOLDS

And next to my name was his.

PRESTON WILLIAM SAUVAGE

I scoffed.

What a pretentious name.

A pretentious name, for a pretentious prick.

“Skylar,” he snapped, my eyes meeting with his again. “Just sign the damn contract.”

I inhaled deeply.

This was going to be fine.

I sign the paper.

I deliver the goods.

I get the money.

All ties cut.

Forever.

I won’t get attached, I’ll do what needs to be done and then once that money hits my account, I’m gone.

Five hundred thousand pounds.

Straight in my bank.

It’s just nine months…

Nine months.

One contract.

Don’t fall in love.

Before I could think myself out of this situation, I grabbed the pen, signed the contract then pushed myself away from the table and stormed out of the conference room, barging into him as I did.

SKYLAR

One Month Ago

Running out of my box bathroom, I clung to the towel that was wrapped around my body and headed for my room. My apartment was cold, the heating had gone wrong again, and I couldn’t afford to call another engineer out to fix it.

For now, it was layers and gloves for bed. I could always shower at my clients once we’re finished, but normally I want to get up and out as soon as I can.

I shudder at the thought.

It’s fine, I will save some more pennies before I call yet another person out to fix it. I need a new boiler, I know that. They keep telling me every time someone new comes out to fix it but I can’t afford that right now.

The annoying thing is, I have a good job. Not what my parents would want me to do, but it pays well.

I am a high-end escort to a handful of powerful men.

I wanted to be an interior designer, but I had to drop out of university a lot sooner than I wanted so never got to finish the course. But the student debt that I took out unfortunately followed me.

Then on top of my debt, I have my mortgage and my bills, plus I need to feed myself so by the end of the month I have very little left. Sure, I get wonderful tips but again, most of it goes on my debt, the rest I put into my savings until the time I am ready to stop my job, find a man and am ready to settle down. After what happened to me in my late teens, I never want to be without again. Saving is everything to me. It’s more important than the luxuries and much more important than eating.

I turn to look at my small closet of extras that I get gifted, I have shoes and bags that all girls would die for, plus a closet full of designer clothes that I get to wear whenever I want, but what are they when you live month to month on a pay cheque. Yes, I could dip into my savings but I don’t want to. So, I shall layer up for a few more months (more like years) until I have my deposit for a dream house. The boiler can wait.

Sighing heavily, I towel dry my hair before getting dressed for the day.

Checking my phone before I leave, I have a message from Harriet asking if we’re still meeting for lunch. I debated replying no, but I couldn’t cancel on her again.

I tapped a quick reply letting her know I would see her at one at our local bistro.

Grabbing my keys and pulling on my light trench coat, I set off for my day.

Little did I know how much my life was going to change after today.

But hey, I’m getting ahead of myself.

Let’s start at the beginning, shall we?