by Daphne Dawn
See, here’s how this goes down at Thebadboys.net, and this isn’t something a lot of people know. These busy as fuck billionaires with no time to date actually outsource the screening process. Yeah, you heard me right. I’m paid to pretend to be this rich as fuck dude and find his “perfect match.” In essence, I’m a professional cat-fisher.
But I like money, you see. Yep, I’m a big fucking fan of money and I want to make fucking loads of it. Who doesn’t, right? So enough of this and let’s go back to schmoozing these unsuspecting ladies.
So here I am, chatting with a couple of girls, getting really into the conversations, when my bedroom door swings open.
“Holy fuck!” I heave a dramatic sigh to try and calm my racing heart as I slam my laptop closed.
I’m sitting on my bed, comfortable in sweat pants and a t-shirt while I conduct my online business. I lose track of time on a regular basis, especially when I get into the zone with a customer, so I don’t particularly relish distractions.
But hey, it’s Cassie.
My gorgeous twin sister—who has the same level of gorgeousness as me, of course—walks in nonchalantly, like she’s not disrupting anything important and plops down beside me.
Cassie is four minutes older than me, and she never fails to rub it in my face any chance she gets.
She loves to say things like, “I’m your older, wiser sister.” Like duh, how much wiser could you get in a few more infantile minutes of exposure to your surroundings? Total bullshit.
Oh, there’s also my all-time favorite when she says stuff like, “When I was your age…” I gotta hand it to her. Only my dear sister could make a tiny slice of an hour seem like ages—without being a complete bitch.
I know she’s only teasing me. We have an amazing relationship. You know, that special bond everyone assumes all twins have.
We’re fraternal twins, not identical. Lucky for us, we didn’t have that ‘cute when you’re young, but awkward when you’re older’ moment when people would be confused which is which. We look alike just enough that people can tell we’re twins.
We both have long, straight black hair and brown eyes. Kind of like a signature look. When we were little, Dad used to sing us that song, you know…“Brown Eyed Girl.”
I know, you’ll probably get that song stuck in your head now.
You’re welcome.
“You and that damn computer.” Cassie rolls her eyes and stares at me as if I’m losing my damn mind.
“What?” I chuckle and glance at her.
“Who the hell are you talking to?” she quizzes me.
“It’s for work.” I toss a pillow at her.
“You are aware that it’s Friday night, right?”
“I’m aware.” I glance at my laptop, wondering when she’ll leave so I can get back to Mr. BadBoy. I can’t lose this client. Besides, I already know what’s coming. At some point of this exchange, she’s bound to drop her older sister act on me. Or maybe one of her wise-ass lines. You’ll see.
“So that means you must also realize that every other twenty-five-year-old on this melting pot island of ours is out having fun and mingling with real people at a club?” Cassie raises an eyebrow at me.
“I’m new at this job, I’m just trying to get ahead,” I say defensively. It’s true. I have yet to reach a stable position in this company. I’m sure my boss won’t promote me based on how hard I party during my free time. He’ll promote me based on the quality of pussy I secure for him.
This is also a good strategy for me. The women I can attract right now will be devoting their time to me since they apparently don’t go out much. This should create a higher chance of converting them into profits. Welcome to market research 101.
“I’m sure your boss doesn’t expect you to work weekends,” Cassie retorts.
Cassie doesn’t get it. She’s already at the top of her field, an executive at a young age for a marketing firm, so she doesn’t have to worry about proving her worth anymore. This is my second real job out of college after my quick stint at the magazine, and I aim to succeed at all costs.
“I’m trying to snag a date,” I joke and laugh, because Cassie doesn’t know much about my job description and the crazy tasks it entails. We’re thick as thieves. But some things I need to keep from my all-knowing sister. Who knows what she’d say if she really know what I got up to in my job?
“Why don’t we go out in real life and score some real dudes instead?” she teases.
I shut my laptop and give her an annoyed stare. It’s no use. She won’t stop until I give in.
“You’re a real pain in my ass, you know that Cassie Colburn?”
“I’m the growth you can’t get rid of.” She winks at me. “That’s what twins are for.”
I take my last ounce of resistance, push open the screen again and decide to tell Mr. Badboy I’ll have to continue this later. Cassie’s going to keep pushing until I agree to go out.
“You don’t understand, this person I’m talking to is special.”
Cassie scoffs.
“They can’t be special enough to hinder your Friday night plans.”
“I don’t have any Friday night plans,” I remind her dryly. Oh wait. This is my Friday night plan. Lovely.
“Well, you do now.” Cassie narrows her eyes as I read what just popped up on my screen.
Come over, let’s play a naughty game.
“Who buys that kind of shit?” I scoff and Cassie raises an eyebrow at me.
“What? Let me see.” She angles her head to see my screen but I yank it away.
“What are you actually doing here, Chloe?” Cassie asks, confused.
“Nothing. Don’t worry about it.”
I review some of what Ms.Winters and I have been talking about back and forth through the chat box. We’ve been talking for several days now, and I’m getting excited about reeling her in. She responds positively to all my plays and I might just snag her. This is some big fish, if ever.
I read the latest line she submits my way, careful to keep Cassie from seeing.
My mouth can do amazing things, you have no idea.
Tell me more, baby, I write back.
Come over and I’ll show you just how erotic your Friday night can be.
Hot. If she only knew…My fingers do more amazing things to women on a daily basis—figuratively, that is. Apparently, they’re working their magic on her now, too.
Meanwhile, I watch as Cassie stands up and walks over to my closet, pulling dresses and sexy boots out left and right.
“Um, excuse me?” I call out to her.
She spins and glances at me, holding one particularly revealing red sexy dress up to see how it looks held up in a mirror. Which reminds me, I haven’t worn that in a while…
“What?”
“Why are you raiding my closet?”
Cassie ignores me and throws a black leather mini skirt at me.
“You’re wearing this.”
“To a biker chick rally?”
“No!” Cassie rolls her eyes. “To meet men. Tonight.”
She drawls sarcastically as if I’m thick in the head and can’t understand how this fact is important.
“You’re fucking relentless.” I grab the skirt and stand up, knowing the battle with Cassie is uphill and I’m out of ammunition. Sometimes, there’s no arguing with my twin. She just doesn’t take no for an answer.
I get dressed while Ms. Winters takes her time responding.
“There you go, much better.” Cassie winks at me as she makes me strut in a little twirl to show off my figure in the skirt. She even claps her hands in approval.
She’s living with me, although temporarily. I know I give her a hard time about being my annoying sidekick but honestly, I can’t imagine life without her. Life is just a bit better with your sister.
Cassie just finished graduate school and thinks its economical for us to live together, though she could definitely pay for her own place. I don’t mind, wit
hout a roommate I’d probably have to sell a kidney just to be able to pay rent. Another good motivation to reel in those women.
I finished school before Cassie, but we’re right on par with each other when it comes to being in our respective fields. I’m not much into further studies, since I felt I had a good start with my career after college. Cassie used to work for an international fashion magazine called ‘Posh,’ but now she’s moved on to bigger and better things.
The same way I did with my previous job, moving on to bigger and better things—which I’m hoping will be bigger and better soon. We do miss the bad ass perks like getting into the trendiest bars, restaurants and fashion boutiques. But I have a good vision of what I want, and I know I’m inching my way closer to it with this career shift.
I intend to make it big someday; I can almost imagine own plush penthouse office, a sharp secretary to take care of my schedule and mundane tasks, several executive-level business meetings, writing a few important pieces—all the works of a lucrative career. Nice. I could really use a fast-forward button now to get there.
Cassie works hard as shit too, balls to the wall Monday through Friday, having the beauty of enjoying an 8-hour all weekday job. She occasionally extends hours, but not as much as I do. My job is more of a twenty-four-hour business venture.
I have to be on my A-game at all times and be willing to be on call at all hours of the night for the women who need a man to talk to. Being a woman myself has its advantages since I already know what I’d want to hear if I was on the other end of the screen.
I’m proud of Cassie for her accomplishments in the marketing industry. Likewise, I know she’s proud of me for what I’m doing in the media field, whether it be writing magazine articles or writing flirty responses to women—even though she’s still in the dark on that part.
“Here, let me help you.”
Cassie walks swiftly towards me with her arms held out.
“What?” I spin around, thinking I have a thong stuck to my clothing or something equally embarrassing.
“You need to be zipped up all the way.” She finishes the job and jogs back to the closet with an eager frenzy drive.
“Wear these with it—you’ll look totally hot.”
“I look just like you,” I remind her.
“Congratulations,” she teases.
“Just put them on the floor. I’ll put them on when we’re ready to go,” I instruct her.
“We are ready to go Chloe,” Cassie belts out with frustration.
“I know…” I trail off as I stare at the screen. I can’t just leave a woman hanging. That’s not what playboy billionaires do. Or do they?
Ms. Winters is definitely appealing, but in a different type of way than you think. For the first time in a while, I notice that she’s the most intellectually stimulating conversationalist I’ve had at Thebadboys.net in a while, although I haven’t worked here that long yet.
That either speaks multitudes about her, or speaks a lot about the type of women that hang out around the site.
“Ms. Winters is going to make for a very interesting subject,” I murmur out loud.
“Huh?” Cassie eyes me with confusion.
Oh shit, didn’t mean to say that out loud.
I look at her and see from her expression that she has zero interest in this conversation. I could talk about it all day and I won’t get a single word in. But that’s good. Can’t have her knowing too much. I have a weird job, let’s just leave it at that.
“Do you ever listen to a fucking word I say?” I roll my eyes.
“Only if it’s interesting,” she quips back.
“This is interesting,” I protest, even though I shouldn’t.
Cassie quickly walks over to where I sit on the edge of the bed and slams my laptop shut assertively.
“Hey!” I cry out. “Why the hell did you do that?”
“We’re going out now, Chloe,” she states firmly. “You have the rest of your life to chat with whoever the fuck that is.”
“Seriously, this is a big deal,” I state.
“Whatever. Come on.” Cassie waves a hand at me, beckoning me to follow her out of the room.
I sigh, officially giving up and throwing in the towel. There’s no arguing with Cassie. Moments like this give me a glimpse of how good she must be at her job. This girl is just relentless.
I only hope that Ms. Winters won’t be offended that I’m leaving in such a hasty rush, without even saying goodbye. Maybe I can charm my way back into her good graces later. I don’t want to disappoint or offend a potential client for my boss, especially when I’m this new at the game.
For now, there’s nothing I can do about it because Cassie’s probably already downstairs hailing a cab. If I know her, she’d even drag me out kicking and screaming if she needed to, just to get me into that cab.
I oblige my older-by-four-minutes sister and head out the door, ready for the same kind of adventure that I enticingly talk about with the women on the website. Hmm, maybe this will be fun after all.
I’ll call it research.
Yeah. I smile. Research.
Chapter 3
Chloe
Our Uber driver drops us off directly in front of one of the hottest, trendiest bars in the whole floating island of Manhattan.
To say it’s notoriously crowded is an understatement. The place is fucking swamped seven nights a week.
Cassie and I frequent this bar fairly often because we have little to no trouble at all getting inside. Every bouncer loves a hot pair of twins, and Cassie and I are of course no exception to that rule.
Cassie blows him a kiss as he unchains the velvet rope, strutting our hips and batting our eyes at him as we breezily swoop past the bouncer. He doesn’t even attempt to act subtle as he ogles at how fucking sexy we look.
“I love your job!” Cassie shrieks as we walk inside.
I toss her a funny look, and she has to correct herself, remembering I’m at a new job now.
The perks of my previous media venture job were great, don’t get me wrong. But I was just an intern there, and I feel like I have more wiggle room and potential to grow at Thebadboys.net, at least financially, because that shit’s lucrative.
Cassie tries to be supportive of me trying new things, and don’t get me wrong…she is, but I know she misses the perks of my old—though looks like they’re still holding up by the way we’re ushered right into the club.
“There’s a booth over there.” Cassie points to the back, and I make a point to scope out the packed area, on the prowl for hot guys who might be glancing my direction.
As we walk to the back, my brain seems to think this is the perfect time to question my own life choices.
I don’t really know why I moved to BadBoys other than the money. I can’t place an accurate finger on it, but I am desperate for change.
I need to constantly be adventurous, never wanting to settle or plateau in a job.
I’m impulsive, always craving the idea of a new conquest or experiencing something new.
I hate the fact that satisfaction doesn’t come cheap for me, but that’s the name of the game, and I’m sure it gets on Cassie’s nerves, although she doesn’t mention it.
Cassie pushes herself inside the booth first, and I scoot in beside her.
“What are you doing?” She tucks her long straight black hair behind her ear and stares at me through her smoky eye shadow.
“What?” I place my clutch bag on the table and pull out my lip gloss to reapply it.
“Ethan is meeting us here,” she mentions.
I sigh dramatically and roll my eyes, set for a tantrum. “Really? We can’t do one thing together as sisters without him butting in?”
“Come on,” she elbows me. “Don’t be mean.”
“You’re the one who’s dragging me out tonight, remember?” I give her a sarcastic grin.
“It won’t be that bad, he’ll blend in.”
“If third wheels can
do that sort of thing,” I tease her.
Ethan Ford is the flashy, sometimes overly cocky, owner of an event production company that holds his namesake, Ford Productions.
Oh, and he’s also Cassie’s current boyfriend.
My opinion on the subject is that he’s a little too old for Cassie, but what business is it of mine to dictate who she does or doesn’t date?
He’s a nice enough guy and all, but he’s really not my type.
He has red hair, though it’s more of a dark auburn color, so if he tries to claim himself as a certified ‘ginger,’ well, that shit just isn’t going to happen. He doesn’t fall into that category.
Cassie first met him when she stepped in as a marketing consultant for his company, and the rest was history.
I’m not saying I’m going to peg them as getting married tomorrow or anything, but I can totally picture Cassie one day toting his future kids around in a Suburban to soccer practice.
Let’s just say I have the sneaking suspicion that Cassie is investing more into this relationship than Ethan.
A bar server walks past us, but Cassie swipes him in the nick of time, calling out to him with a snap of her fingers.
I give her a lecturing look. “Stop,” I murmur under my breath.
I mean, she could at least be fucking civil to the guy so he doesn’t spit in our drinks.
I order a cosmopolitan, my signature drink. Cassie orders a mojito and gives me a funny look.
“What?” I shrug.
“You and those damn cosmos. Who the fuck are you, Carrie Bradshaw?”
“I wish,” I snort, chuckling at my ability to quip back at my sister.
Cassie takes a deep breath and scrolls through her news feed on her phone.
“So, how is your work going these days?” I quiz her.
Cassie folds her arms across the table and grins at me with a twinkle gleaming in her eyes. “It’s going fantastic.”
“Yeah?” I ask.
“I’m getting ready to seal a new deal with a construction company, and I’m totally psyched about the whole process. If I land this, I may be up for a huge bonus.”