Riya: LOL – I like your attitude.
Joshua: Excellent. What are you up to?
Riya: Organizing my research and working to reach out to the other possible participants in this strange thing I’m doing.
Joshua: I don’t think it’s strange. I think it’s awesome!
Riya: Thanks. You were the first to respond back. You don’t have a problem with the scope of this?
Joshua: I hit reply the second I made it through the first read. Do you mean will I have a problem with you getting with several dudes other than me?
Riya: Something like that…
Joshua: Nope. Guys do that shit all the time and for way less productive reasons than yours. Women have this stupid fucking standard they’re supposed to adhere to…set by who? Don’t let that bullshit guilt or whatever society tries to throw get you down.
Riya: That’s actually something I needed to hear. Thanks.
Joshua: No problem, Riya. I think what you’re doing is damn brave. Even if you don’t pick me, I’ll be rooting for you.
Riya: That’s great of you. I’ll have an answer for sure in the next few weeks. You’ve already given me really great feedback.
Joshua: Yeah?
Riya: Oh yeah. Your age and stage in life offer a unique perspective. You’ve been influenced but not as…worn down? Not sure that’s the right term.
Joshua: I’m not as jaded.
Riya: Exactly. Your views about women and sex are still new for the most part. Not carved by twenty years of relationships (good or bad).
Joshua: I like that. Since you said it, I’m gonna advise you to keep me in this thing. I assume I’m the youngest. All that “refreshing perspective” isn’t going to change in the next couple of months. Just a thought.
Riya: You’re more than likely right…
Joshua: Winning. *fist of victory*
Riya: You make me laugh.
Joshua: You need to laugh. I bet you could use lots of feel good stuff. Come on over to Austin and let me accept the challenge.
Riya: Honestly, that sounds better than it should.
Joshua: Think about it. I’m gonna let you get some sleep since you’re an hour later than me. I’ll have some “me” time, hit the shower, then crash myself.
Riya: You’re not shy at all. I like your honesty.
Joshua: I aim to please. Before I take that way further than I should, I’ll get off here. Later, Riya.
Riya: Goodnight, Joshua.
After printing their chat, she added it to his file and wondered at the easy comradery she had with the college student from Texas.
In the back of her mind, she was fairly certain he’d make the final cut because Joshua Andrews was right.
She did need some laughter in her life.
Prospective Subject: Lance
Chin in her hand, Riya perused Lance Wilkes’ essay. He lived about forty minutes from her and though they’d attended years apart, he was a University of Miami alumni.
From the beginning, she’d gone back and forth about including him due to proximity. His military background and position as a bodyguard would make it fairly simple for him to track her down in the real world.
Despite the risk, she thought he sounded like a great person.
ESSAY
Subject Name: Lance
Subject Age: 36
Subject Career: Personal Security
Marital Status: Single
Children (Y/N): N
Annual Income: 150K
Location: Miami, FL
This will be fairly short. I wanted to get it out to you before I went on assignment. I worried about missing the due date since I’ll be off the grid for a couple of weeks.
I would say the one intangible thing I’m looking for is true love. Sounds corny but I was raised by my grandparents who were married more than forty years.
I want that in my life.
I haven’t dated in a couple of years. I fell hard for a woman I thought loved me just as much. I was wrong. By the time I realized how dysfunctional and selfish she was, I was gone for her.
The day I started looking at rings, my best friend sent me a text pic of her going into a hotel with her ex-boyfriend. He’d followed them from a restaurant.
I never suspected. When I confronted her, she freely admitted the affair.
Even then, I thought I could forgive her. Until she told me I was good enough to fuck but I’d never be able to provide the lifestyle she wanted to live.
It was pretty brutal and I was shredded for almost a year. I’m thankful for my co-workers, my friends, who served with me in the military.
None of my relationships work out and I’m not sure why. Maybe you can help me figure out what I’m doing wrong. Clearly, I’m not making much headway myself.
I have to send this off to you and get on the road. The new client is supposedly “difficult” so I’m not looking forward to babysitting her. I hope this is okay.
A short but telling essay. It made Riya think about her father, which was probably the wrong reaction.
Archer O’Connell had worshipped the ground his beloved Dalia walked on. He grieved hard when she died and developed a severe drinking problem.
Once he dried out, Riya felt as if the years she’d spent watching her parents together were a dream rather than the reality. His endless cycle of women in and out of his house and his bed confused her on so many levels.
Picking up her phone, she sent Lance a quick message on Skype to see if he was online. Then she went for a run and called her BFF.
Tawny answered on the first ring. “S’up, bitch?”
“Hello to you, too.” There was a strange metal on metal sound in the background. “What are you doing?”
“Cleaning my arsenal of weapons. Whatcha up to?”
It was a testament to the growing strangeness of her oldest friend’s personal life that Riya didn’t believe she was kidding.
“I thought we’d grab dinner.”
“Cuban? I’ve got a craving.”
“Sounds good. Want me to pick you up?”
“In that piece of shit Corolla? Uh, no. I’ll get you in an hour. Be dressed and ready to tear some shit up.”
Oh shit. “No, Tawny. I’m not going out.”
“Only you are though so you might as well cave now because you know I always win. I found a new club and the music is fucking awesome. Skank up or you go naked.”
Gathering her composure and mentally preparing for an evening spent with a woman who constantly courted the law, she sighed. Tawny was right. She did always win.
“You’re an extremely bossy and unbalanced person.”
“Your point? Gotta go wash off the gun oil. See you soon and don’t make me get ugly.”
The line went dead as her notification for Skype popped up on her screen. It was Lance.
Lance: Riya, I need to talk to you.
Riya: Sure!
Lance: I need to withdraw. I can’t give you any details. Something happened on this side.
Riya: Are you alright?
Lance: I am. I think your research is important. Had all of this happened even six weeks ago, I could continue. From day one, I’ve been proud (and more than a little awed) to be involved. As it stands, I have a conflict of interest.
Riya: A conflict of interest regarding my dissertation?
Lance: Yes. Please don’t ask me questions. I don’t want to lie to you. I don’t want to muddy your data and if I stay in this thing, I absolutely will.
Riya: Alright. Thank you for letting me know, Lance.
Lance: I’m truly sorry, Riya. I’d hoped to take this journey with you until the very end. I wish you all the success in the world.
Riya: Same to you. Be safe.
Lance: Guard yourself. A woman is always at higher risk to be victimized and the nature of your research raises your chances. If you ever need me, if you need help, I’m here. That’s not an empty offer. I have the skills and resources if something happens.
Riya: You’re a good man. Thank you for all you’ve done.
Lance: It was my pleasure. I mean that.
Sitting back in her chair, Riya stared at the screen in confusion. How on earth could they have a conflict of interest?
She printed the conversation, added it to his file, and removed all his information from her board. As she stored it in a box, questions ricocheted through her mind.
Glancing at the time, she rushed into the shower. She needed to be dressed before Tawny arrived or her friend would dictate her clothes.
As she dried her hair afterwards, she replayed the chat with Lance. Lowering the dryer, she frowned.
“A conflict of interest. He knows someone in my real life…”
“Talking to yourself is a sign of insanity,” Tawny said behind her. Her eye twitched at Riya’s scream. “Key. I have one.”
Her hand shot out and popped Riya’s bare ass. “Glad you’re not dressed yet. I brought you an outfit.” Then she was gone, humming as she walked into her small bedroom at the back of the house. “Fuck. This room is so damn boring.”
Lance knew someone in her real life.
She followed her friend and barely registered the scraps of clothing laid out on her bed. She pulled on a bra and panties before turning to Tawny.
“Do you know a man named Lance Wilkes?”
There was the slightest flinch in her freckled cheek. “Nope. Get dressed. I’m starving.”
It wasn’t the first lie Tawny told her. Over the past two years, she’d caught her in several without calling the woman who was more like a sister to her on them.
She didn’t move or speak, simply stared at Tawny. When her green eyes came up, the silence drew out between them.
Riya wasn’t going to let it go this time and she saw the moment her best friend realized that simple truth.
“Yes. I know him. I was at a…business meeting. He saw the photo of us on my phone. It’s my screensaver.”
“He left phase three of my research.”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t ask him any questions and he barely said another word to me after that.”
Riya crossed her arms, letting the information process. Finally, she murmured, “Business meeting, huh?”
“Yeah.”
“Alright.” She nodded and bent to pick up the slinky top that still had a price tag on it. “You bought me clothes again?”
Relieved at the topic change, the redhead grinned. “If I don’t buy you ho clothes, you won’t have them when I need you to wear them.” One green eye winked. “Besides, you know I enjoy dressing us like twins. Cracks me up.”
Sighing, she wore the assigned clothing and spent several hours laughing and dancing with the only person left who could make her do it. Without the perpetual happiness that seemed to vibrate off Tawny in waves, she knew she wouldn’t have survived the past decade since losing her mom.
A fear lived inside her that she’d lose Tawny. Too many things didn’t add up. She worried almost constantly.
With her connection to Lance, more pieces fell into place.
Prospective Subject: Lucas
When Riya started her research, there were men who stood out to her instantly. Some participants branded themselves on her psyche from the first interaction.
Lucas Simon was one of them. She felt a visceral reaction every time she read his words. The pain in them was clear. A lonely rancher from rural Montana, she felt as if they could help one another.
Both of them had been affected by grief in ways many wouldn’t understand. Pulling his well-worn file toward her, she opened it to his unassuming photo. He wasn’t looking at the camera.
Moving through the pages, she stopped at his essay.
ESSAY
Subject Name: Lucas
Subject Age: 42
Subject Career: Rancher
Marital Status: Widowed
Children (Y/N): Y
Annual Income: Around 140K
Location: Billings, MT
I’m not used to talking about emotion. I don’t know how much of it I have to give. That’s the truth.
If I could find peace, I think I could breathe again.
I feel hollowed out on the inside, sick with dread. Not much left to do before I think things might be done.
From the beginning, I haven’t understood why I’m going on with this research of yours. Last thing a woman needs is to haul herself out to the middle of nowhere to deal with me.
My wife died a while back. I feel like the energy I had to do anything that doesn’t involve my grown boys or the ranch evaporated. I keep going for them anyway. Gotta keep this place up for them to inherit one day.
To be honest, I hope they sell it and make a life somewhere else. This place is haunted. All the dead dreams thrive here.
Part of me knows I lost control over everything that matters a long time ago. That part tells me to let it all go.
There’s the fighter in me who can’t quite give all the way up. Maybe the time has come to figure myself out. To decide what I want and all.
Not really sure where I fit. Not sure my will is strong enough to keep breathing.
Things sure turned out different than I thought they would when I was a boy. I’m trying to adjust but damn, you’d think I’d have figured it out over twenty years.
As always, the words brought tears and she closed her eyes in sadness, missing her mother. Reading Lucas’s words were always cathartic for her and she didn’t know why.
She reached out to him on Skype and after almost an hour, he responded. She knew he’d type slowly and didn’t mind.
Riya: Lucas, are you there?
Lucas: Yeah. Haven’t had this phone long. My overseer got it for me, hooked up the app and whatnot.
Riya: You didn’t have to go to so much trouble. I’d have continued talking by email.
Lucas: This is fast. Didn’t expect you to write back so quick.
Riya: The latest apps are excellent. How are you?
Lucas: Uncertain, I guess. I never thought you’d take this thing into a face to face sort of deal.
Riya: Is there anything I can do to put your mind at ease?
Lucas: Be patient, I guess. I need to come around to it. Decide what it all means. See if I fit.
Riya: I think you’re an ideal participant. Your story is unique. I think you and I could help one another.
Lucas: Think so?
Riya: I do.
Lucas: Alright then. I need to get back in the field. Service isn’t so good out here but it was nice talking to you, Riya.
Riya: It was my pleasure. Have a great day.
After the printed conversation was stored in his file, Riya made a few notes to do more research on grief and suicide. If Lucas ended up being part of her chosen six, she wanted to be prepared to help him.
Relaxed but full of energy, she went for a run. She was stretching an hour later when her phone beeped. There was a notification from Lucas.
Lucas: You got me curious. If you choose me, I’ll go the distance within reason. I’m not going to use you.
Riya: I appreciate that, Lucas. I know you won’t.
Lucas: Alright then. Goodnight.
Riya glanced out on the ocean with a smile. During most of his initial questionnaires, she could tell Lucas was hesitant with many aspects of her research.
She’d never doubted he’d come around.
Prospective Subject: Max
Of all the men she’d catalogued throughout the process of gathering data for her research, none had taken her by surprise as much as two lifelong friends who submitted all their surveys together from day one. Their dynamic made her curious.
When she received their essays separately, she was more than a little shocked. Then she read them and understood their reasoning. She also thought it was unlikely they showed the essays to one another.
The photos they included were of them together. Based on some of their answers, she assumed they naturally spent a l
ot of time together.
In one, they were hiking in a stunning forest wearing sunglasses and bandannas. In the other, they were poised to ski over the side of a considerable mountain and paused to smile for the camera. The winter wear and snow goggles didn’t detract from their appearance in the slightest.
It was impossible to miss how good-looking they were, even with the outdoor gear. Their smiles were brilliant. They looked like the kind of people who embraced everything in life.
Considering she lived like a hermit in the middle of one of the most bustling metropolises in the country, she envied their attitude and wondered if it was contagious.
Hoped it was contagious.
ESSAY
Subject Name(s): Max
Subject Age(s): 34
Subject Career(s): Stockbroker
Marital Status: Single
Children (Y/N): N
Annual Income(s): $1M plus
Location: Manhattan
Allow me to express how impressed I am with the scope and detail of your research. I look forward to your correspondence to see what you come up with next.
When writing a freeform essay, sometimes the struggle is knowing where to begin. There’s much I desire to say.
I wish to put your mind at ease about our lifestyle, Riya. I don’t want you to be afraid, to feel confused, or think we’re in this to use you in some manner.
Nothing could be further from our minds.
You have a natural curiosity about the world that comes through in everything you’ve communicated so far. I’d like to present us as the men who can walk you through many aspects of sexuality with which you might not be familiar.
While keeping you safe, we can show you all you wish to know, answer your questions, and treat you in the manner you deserve.
Micah and I grew up together in an orphanage in London. It was a horrible place but we lived through it. The fact is, when you worry about sharing a piece of bread or a single blanket, petty jealousy isn’t given a chance to develop.
We built our fortunes together, we share space, and we support one another in everything. Each of us compliments the other in a way uncommon for most men.
We bring that to ménage…the familiarity, the teamwork, the ability to focus on one goal. The goal is always – always – the pleasure of the woman.
Choice of Subjects: The Barter System Series Page 3