by Stacey Lynn
I’d probably never see her again, not in a city the size of New York. And since I didn’t have her name, there was no way to get in contact with her, but fuck if I didn’t want to. She was sexy. A bit sassy. Absolutely perfect.
The idea of some classy woman like her—my assumption based on the way she was dressed—already having judged me for something I didn’t fucking do in the first place made my blood boil.
I at least wanted to set her straight.
“Forget about her, Liam.”
“Done,” I lied. Anne was right. If I needed to set up a new image, some chick off the street —or sprawled on a marble floor—wasn’t the way to go.
The image of her though, brown, wavy hair just below her shoulders, pulled back, and those eyes, the thick long lashes I knew weren’t fake came to mind and I adjusted my hard dick, growling at myself in the mirror.
“Fuck my life,” I muttered.
Anne snorted. “No thanks.”
––––––––––
“Mr. Allistor,” Karen Flores held out her hand to me as soon as Anne and I stepped off the elevator. “So lovely to meet you and have you here at Infidelity. Please, come inside, and have a seat in my office while we talk.”
“Liam, please. And thank you for meeting me,” I said, lying through my teeth and shaking her hand. While Anne and Karen said their hellos and Karen gestured for us to follow her into her office, my gaze caught on something on the receptionist’s desk and my steps stalled.
The brunette.
One simple picture frame sat on the receptionist’s desk. It was of the brunette wrapped in the arms of two adults. They were on a beach and holy shit I hadn’t been wrong earlier. She was wearing a bright, yellow and white striped one-piece suit, cut outs revealing the sides of her waist. Her hair blew in the wind behind her, and her smile almost blinded me.
Gorgeous.
“Liam?”
Anne’s voice grabbed my attention. I swung around to see both women in the doorway to Karen’s office.
“Yeah?”
She arched her perfectly manicured black brows into sharp points. “Meeting. Coming?”
I glanced back at the photo and tapped the top of the empty desk once. “Oh yeah, I’m ready.”
“Okay,” Karen said, once she was settled behind her desk and Anne and I were sitting in two chairs on the opposite side.
I decided to spare her the spiel and sell me on Infidelity. I was in. All in.
“If Anne wants me to do this, I want her.” I pointed my thumb in the direction outside her office.
Karen flinched and then frowned. “I’m sorry. Excuse me?”
“Her. The woman who works at that desk. If I have to do this shit for a year, I want that woman.”
“I’m sorry, Mr. Allistor—”
“Liam.”
From Anne’s chair, the heat of her glare was searing. If she could set me on fire with her eyes alone, I’d already be a pile of ash.
It was rare I was this difficult, but this was also my life they were fucking with, and damn it, I should be able to decide something about this next year of ridiculousness.
“I’m sorry, Liam. Claudia is my assistant, she’s not an employee available for clients. So, if you don’t mind, let’s get started and I’ll explain what Infidelity can do for you.”
And now I had a name. Claudia. I rolled it around on my lips silently. A bit exotic, a bit classic, a bit sassy. It fit her perfectly.
I sat in my seat like the good little boy Karen and Anne expected me to be and pretended to listen. For the next hour, Karen gave the entire spiel of her company. We were only referred by former clients and the only reason Anne knew of the place was much to my jaw-dropping shock, she’d once been an employee. That was how she met her husband, Don.
“You fucking serious?” I said, unable to hide my surprise. “You did this?”
“I’ve been trying to tell you that Infidelity is the best choice for you here, Liam. You just never listen.”
Not true. I listened all the time. To my manager and my band and my songwriter and hell…all I did some days was listen to other people telling me how to live my life.
“I’m sure I would have remembered you telling me you met your husband ten years ago because he paid you twenty grand a month.”
Her shoulders rose and fell with a heave. The only sign she usually gave she was at her limit of patience with me. “And it’s not something I can talk about or would. It was none of your business until now, and…I couldn’t. Like you will do, all employees and clients sign a nondisclosure, limiting how much knowledge we can give until we know someone who can benefit from Infidelity’s prestigious services.”
Other than my own parents’ marriage, I’d never seen anyone make such a perfectly matched couple until I met Anne and Don. Realizing this was how she met him, gave me hope this could work.
For a year. That’s all this was. One very expensive publicity stunt.
“Fine,” I said, turning back to Karen. “I can buy into this. So what happens next?”
She grinned and opened a tablet, tapped a few buttons and slid the screen across her desk. In front of me was what looked like a basic questionnaire, until I realized it was twenty-three pages long.
“Holy shit.”
“At Infidelity, we’re thorough. We match you with a client based on preferences we think will be most successful. So while you complete this, I’ll go grab everyone some water, or a drink of something else if you’d prefer?”
I waved her off. I didn’t need anything and I wasn’t filling this out.
“Fill it out,” Anne said once Karen left the room. “They’ll do a good job, I promise you. They’ll choose someone who won’t care about your status or who you are, and someone who can easily fit into your lifestyle, Liam. I wouldn’t steer you wrong about this.”
Her bottom line was as much at stake in this as was my career. Not for the first time, irritation exploded inside me, making my skin tight and the roots of my hair burn on my scalp.
“I don’t even get a choice in who I’m shackled with?”
She had to be kidding. Somehow, they’d glossed over this important piece of information.
“Like we said, Liam…”
“No.” I slashed my hand through the air and shoved the tablet aside. “I will not have my life, my girlfriend, dictated to me. I get why this, in general, is a good idea, but I’m not having some stranger thrust into my life and I’m just expected to trust her.”
“The nondisclosure—”
I tugged at my hair and all but shouted, “I don’t give a fuck about the NDA. I didn’t even do anything wrong, Anne, and this is bullshit. If you want me to do this, then I get to choose. And I choose Claudia.”
And why did I fucking care? Why was I so hung up on some pretty girl who crashed into me and looked like she hated me the next second?
Because she didn’t fawn. She was stubborn. She refused me her name. Maybe I was fascinated because she was new and different. Maybe her glossy shine would wear off and she’d end up being just like every other woman I’d been with.
I didn’t care. I wanted something, and damn it, I should be able to get it. One damn thing. I had a life constantly being dictated to me, but no one was going to tell me who I could, or who I could not fucking date for crying out loud. I was paying enough money to be able to have a say.
“Karen said she’s not an employee.”
Anne’s tone turned patronizing. She spoke calmly and slowly, lowering her voice like my mom used to do when I was on the verge of trouble.
I glared at her. “Then do your fucking job and talk her into it.”
The door to the office opened and Karen walked in with three bottles of water and paused. Her gaze darted back and forth between Anne and me. “Everything okay?”
I pushed off the chair and stood. “I need to use the restroom.” Glaring at Anne, I repeated. “Do your damn job.”
CHAPTER
&nbs
p; THREE
CLAUDIA
My sushi settled in my stomach like rotten fish. Nothing could have made it taste good that day as I wandered the streets, taking as long as possible to return to my desk.
Goodness. I’d slammed into Liam Allistor for crying out loud. If I had been a teenager when he hit the scene, I would have wanted to cover my walls in posters of him—shirtless and on stage. Not that my mom would have ever allowed it and I was too old to do it now. All that ink drove me crazy. He had a body that belonged inside a fighting ring and somehow, he stroked and strummed a guitar and wiggled his hips on stage like he’d been gifted with the gracefulness of a dancer.
It was the tattoos on his knuckles that first gave him away. I knew from a magazine spread he’d done about a year ago that he’d gotten Love Loud inked in all caps on the knuckles of both his hands. At the time, he’d been attached to some B-List actress and the ink spawned rumors of an upcoming engagement. Two weeks later, she was gone and the rumor mill spread to something else more exciting.
If I could have ever met a musician or any celebrity and run the risk of fangirling like a lunatic, Liam Allistor would be the one I’d do it for. Instead, I’d run into him like a complete, embarrassing idiot.
How humiliating. First I spent the morning trying to essentially sell my virginity to my Aunt Karen and then I landed on my ass in front of an incredibly sexy rockstar.
My day officially sucked.
Back at my desk, I tossed my purse on the top and turned, intent on using the restroom before getting back to work, when Karen’s voice rang through the intercom on my desk. It was brusque and demanding, just like always.
“Claudia. My office. Now.”
Oh-kay.
I made my way to her office, not bothering to knock before opening the door.
As soon as I was seated in a chair opposite Karen’s desk, she slid a file folder in my direction. “It seems I don’t have much choice in your wishes anymore. I need you to fill out the questionnaire on the tablet. Here are the times for your medical and psychological evaluations scheduled for this afternoon, and here is the contract you need to sign.”
My world spun and the sushi threatened to make a return appearance.
I stared at her, my mouth hanging open as my skin turned to ice. “Excuse me?”
“This is your contract.” She tapped the closed file with a red painted fingernail. “Claudia?”
Three papers. Sign my life away. I asked for this not even two hours ago.
My pulse hit skyrocket levels as I scanned the contract. I’d seen dozens of them in the last month. I knew what it said.
Still, despite my approaching Karen earlier, everything was moving too fast. It was supposed to take up to months for Infidelity to find the perfect companions. Contracts weren’t signed until then.
“Why so quickly?” I asked, tapping my pen on the contract.
Karen’s expression was neutral. Typical of her. “I can’t tell you why.”
“But this means you have someone already lined up for me. Who?”
“You know I can’t tell you that, either.”
My blood raged through my system, flaring everything with the sudden onslaught of fear. Something wasn’t right. “Karen—”
She shook her head once. The quick whip of her hair was an effective slash to silence me.
I was floundering, grappling for a lifeline, something to explain the sudden shift in what had occurred since my lunch hour.
“You know the rules, Claudia.”
“But—”
“And you chose them. You came to me for this.” She was right, but I hadn’t expected everything to happen so quickly. Her voice softened and she continued, “Go do the evaluations. Leave the contract on your desk. When you’re done, if you still want to move forward, sight it and return it. But I will need your answer today.”
Something wasn’t right. We were so far outside standard protocol, but all she said was true. I’d gone to her for this and despite my nerves, I didn’t have another option. Besides, Karen’s secrets were as deep as the ocean and she was a vault. If she didn’t want to share, I couldn’t pry them out of her.
“Okay,” I mumbled, pushing the contract into a neat pile. “I’ll let you know in a few hours.”
I stood and headed toward my desk outside her office. When I reached her doorway, she called my name and I turned back, losing my breath.
Karen was curvier and older than my mom. She didn’t smile as much, but occasionally, in moments like then, their similarities were a punch to my chest.
“What, Karen?”
“If I felt this client was unsafe for you, I wouldn’t suggest it.”
I gave her a nod and closed her door behind me. Then, after a trip to the restroom, I gathered my purse and left to take care of all the evaluations.
Three hours later, after being poked and prodded, both physically and mentally, I was back in Karen’s office.
Less uncertain; more determined.
My job with Karen was temporary. My life was in upheaval. This decision gave me a year and financial freedom afterward to figure out what to do with my life.
She glanced at me once, pen poised over the contract to sign her name next to mine. “Are you sure?”
“I’m sure. What do I need to do now?”
She slid my file to the side and handed me a folded sheet of paper. “Be there tomorrow by ten o’clock in the morning. All your clothes will be provided for you. Bring nothing except a small bag of essentials.”
“Tomorrow?”
“Tomorrow. I suggest you finish up for the day and take off. I’m assuming you’ll want some time at home to get things settled.”
I hadn’t had a home in months. My apartment was barely furnished, not at all decorated. I had nothing to do before leaving, but was I ready?
This was insane.
Still, I gave my thanks to Karen, took the paper, and did what I was told.
I should get used to it, for the next year, my life would be determined by someone else.
I prayed the guy she was giving me to would be patient when it came to sex—and understanding when he realized he’d just bought a virgin.
CHAPTER
FOUR
LIAM
I moved back to the windows in my living room in Greenwich Village overlooking Washington Square Park.
I bought the four-story townhome because one, I had the money to buy whatever I wanted, and two, because Greenwich Village was the only part of New York City I could stand for more than an hour. You’d think being in Los Angeles and touring for the last several years would have me used to the constant crowds and people and traffic. Holy fuck the traffic in L.A. sucked. I liked the feel of the NYU Campus and the view of the park outside my window. It made everything feel less cramped and uptight like so much of New York always seemed to be. Plus, both my entrances had gates to keep out the crazies who occasionally followed me home.
I lived in a fortress in New York City, and I was getting so damn tired of all of it.
The longer I was on the road, the less I could remember about home. Small town life was simpler in Carlton, Kansas, which was almost an hour outside Kansas City. It moved slower, people were quieter, children were happier.
At least that was how I remembered it. Based on how my sister and her family, and my mom still talked about life there, it hadn’t changed a bit. Sure, a new strip center occasionally went up. Urban sprawl crept into the edges of town and new developments were constantly being built. Commuters to Kansas City were willing to drive the hour in order to give their families a safe place to live.
I couldn’t wait to get out of there. Instead of heading to the University of Kansas like the majority of my graduating class, I packed up my eight-year-old Buick, a hand-me-down from my mom, and hit the road for Los Angeles.
And I’d made it. I fucking made it. I worked my ass off, spent half my life sleeping on busses, my only friends being the backup band and roadies
and my opening acts. Some of them were pains in the ass. Some were pretty cool. Few of them I actually trusted.
Which is exactly how I found myself in this fucked up mess to begin with. A mark on my record I doubted would ever be erased.
I knew it. Anne knew it. So why she was trying so hard when I was always going to be the guy accused of raping a twenty-year-old Yale college student was beyond me.
Fuck that chick and the roadie she bribed to allow her access on my bus where she then took photos to be able to confirm we had met.
We had. For about twenty-two seconds before I grabbed her arm and yanked her off my bus. Touching her alone caused enough damage, and maybe I’d gripped her harder than necessary, or maybe she’d paid someone else to leave bruises on her arm. Those marks that had been splashed all over the paper, despite my team’s efforts to keep them suppressed raised enough questions.
But I didn’t rape her. Only assholes with egos the size of Texas and dicks the size of Rhode Island were that despicable.
Now I was staring out the window of my living room, pausing between the laps I was pacing around my home, waiting for some damn brunette to give me her answer through the intake coordinator at the most expensive brothel I’d ever heard of.
What was it about this woman? This Claudia, that kept getting to me?
I shouldn’t have been fascinated with her. Besides her perky tits and tight ass, I was still thinking about the firm set of her jaw when I asked her name. I was still grinning at her refusal to give it to me, despite her obvious recognition of me.
Yeah. It was all of that. If I had to show a cleaned up version of myself, I wanted it with someone who wouldn’t fawn at my feet.
I wanted someone who could hold her own, be just as stubborn as me to ensure that when a year was up, we went our separate ways.
It’d been eight hours since I demanded an answer. And I was getting pissed. I hadn’t expected the brunette to jump at the chance to spend a year with me, but putting it off this long was ticking me off.