The Fidelity World- Nondisclosure

by Ellie Masters

  “Two years? But you said the contracts are for only a year.”

  “The contracts are renewable annually, and there’s a buyout option for those who want to marry or continue the relationship long-term.”

  “Long-term? That happens?” Then, it hit me. “You’re happy with your client?”

  “Very. Cy’s the best thing that’s happened to me. Most of Infidelity’s contracts are extended, and a large majority are bought out. Did I mention the high client and employee satisfaction rates?”

  Patrick should be a salesman for the company because he had this pitch down.

  “I don’t know,” I admitted. “One year is a pretty long time.”

  “They pay twenty thousand a month.”

  My eyes popped at that number. “Twenty?”

  “That and living expenses. Everything is negotiable, but the client will pay for your living arrangements—for obvious reasons.” He gave a sheepish look. “A monthly stipend is also standard.”

  “Holy crap!” In one year, I’d have more than enough to pay for Freddy’s care and also have time to find a job. Not just a job, but the perfect job.

  This could be life-altering.

  All I had to do was sell my body and lose a little bit of my soul.

  “I don’t know, Patrick. That’s a lot to take in.”

  “Take your time. I took a few months before I took the leap, but, Rowan…”

  “Yes?”

  “It took many more months before I got paired with a client. If you’re running against a time line, please don’t take too long before you decide.”

  Chapter 7: Interview

  Rowan

  It had taken forty-eight hours of soul-agonizing searching before I made the decision about Infidelity. My gut had screamed that I was a fool. My heart had spoken of being able to give Freddy the security he deserved.

  My head had mumbled, It’s not safe. You’ll be ruined for life.

  A conversation with Henry had decided the matter.

  A patient man, he’d sat with me over the phone and gone over my finances. To help out, he’d offered to take over Freddy’s guardianship, but I couldn’t do that. He’d insisted, saying it would be difficult to care for Freddy from such a distance.

  The five thousand for the interview wouldn’t buy a month’s reprieve. Freddy’s bill was twice that amount. I’d have to take a leap of faith and trust in Patrick’s words.

  The argument for and against Infidelity had raged between gut, heart, and mind until all sides had been thoroughly weighed and measured. Twenty thousand a month simply wasn’t something I could walk away from, and it wasn’t like there was an equivalent job waiting for me.

  I’d called Patrick several times, and he’d assured me I would be safe. This would begin and end with a contract, and once released, my time with Infidelity would be as if it had never happened. Nobody would know I’d sold my soul and given my body to a stranger in return for cash.

  Patrick had introduced me to his partner, Cyrus. Their interaction had seemed genuine and honest, nothing like a business arrangement. If Patrick hadn’t been happy, then he never would’ve signed on for an additional year. Right? And, by the looks of things, those two would be a couple for many years to come.

  None of that had made my decision easy. Necessity had driven me.

  Patrick had secured an interview, and my feet brought me to the base of a skyscraper made of curving blue glass. That was where they stopped. I stood outside the entrance while my heart hammered away, and my entire body trembled. Was I actually going to do this? I glanced at my phone, at the picture of my lovable but severely autistic twin, and I sighed.

  “For you, Freddy.”

  It was only an interview. There was no reason to be nervous. Except this wasn’t a normal job interview. I came to sell myself to a man who could afford the privilege of my companionship. Patrick had insisted it wasn’t all about sex, but who were we kidding? Sex drove relationships, and I’d be tied to my client for an entire year. Would I be able to stomach some greasy, bald, overweight man?

  With a deep breath, I forced my feet to move, and I traveled the distance across the lobby without faltering. My finger shook like a leaf as I pressed the elevator call button. Inside, I pushed the button for the thirty-seventh floor. People stepped on and off, joining me for a few floors as we ascended upward. They had jobs. Fancy jobs from a look at their business attire. I felt underdressed in my dress and low heels.

  My anxiety level rose with the ding of each floor passed, and I picked at the seam of my red linen dress. Conservative in cut, it had a fashionable business collar, but the sleeves stopped above my elbows. A black belt cinched tight around my waist, and shiny black buttons decorated the front. The A-line skirt accentuated my figure and flared a little at the knees. My knees shook as the elevator paused at the thirty-fifth floor and took on a pair of businessmen. They both gave me a once-over and then turned to face the doors as they closed, making my discomfort rise even higher.

  I could pretend I wasn’t here for an interview. I could continue to ride past the thirty-seventh floor. I could do any number of things. What I did was step off at my designated floor and into a large lobby with a glass desk and Infidelity stamped in beautiful scrolled letters on the wall behind it. For a company that wasn’t supposed to exist, the bold company name prominently displayed took me aback.

  No going back. I introduced myself to the receptionist at the desk.

  “Hello, my name is Rowan Cartwright.”

  “Yes, Miss Cartwright, Ms. Flores is expecting you. Let me tell her you’re here, and she’ll be right out.”

  “Thank you.”

  I headed to take a seat at one of the expensive leather couches, but a middle-aged woman in a black pin-striped suit emerged from behind a set of doors.

  She made a beeline directly for me. “Miss Cartwright,” she said, eyes beaming. “Welcome to Infidelity!”

  My smile came easily, thanks to years of Southern manners drilled into me since birth. “Ms. Flores?”

  “Yes!” She greeted me with a handshake, and I awkwardly took it.

  In the South, we greeted strangers with a hug. A kiss if you knew them well. Never a handshake.

  “It’s nice to meet you, Ms. Flores.”

  I don’t want to be here.

  “Please, call me Karen,” she said with a nod. “Follow me, if you would.”

  What choice do I have?

  It would be foolish to run. Besides, that would only take me to the bank of elevators where I’d have to wait for a car. I held the smile on my face and followed Karen Flores as she took me through a maze of cubicles and offices. We wound up at a private elevator with a key card for access.

  Am I really doing this?

  My feet moved on autopilot, and I stepped in and stood beside Ms. Flores. The doors whooshed closed, sealing me in.

  “Don’t be nervous, dear,” she said.

  But I jerked as the elevator surged upward. I had no idea how far up we traveled. There were only two buttons inside—O and I.

  After a short ride and complete silence between us, the elevator doors opened to another lobby with a large glass desk, another receptionist, and yet another large Infidelity sign. One door exited the room, and Ms. Flores marched straight toward it. After punching in a security code, she led me into her office.

  The sun shone through a full wall of windows overlooking the Financial District. Two chairs faced the desk.

  “Please, make yourself comfortable,” she said. “Would you like anything to drink? Tea, water, coffee?”

  I could use something a whole lot stronger than any of those, but I sensed I would need a clear head for what would come next.

  “No, thank you, Ms. Flores.”

  “Please, call me Karen. So much less formal than last names. Don’t you agree, Rowan?”

  I did, but it didn’t make me feel any less self-conscious. I kept my hands clasped and tried desperately not to fidget.

/>   Karen lowered herself into her seat and gave a flick of her computer mouse, lighting up the screen to her computer. “Patrick has told me many good things about you.”

  “He did?” What kind of good things? That I’m broke? That my father lost everything? That I would soon be bankrupt? That I came here, more desperate than was wise? What kinds of things had he mentioned to Karen?

  “Rowan Cartwright.” She glanced up. “That’s such a pretty name.”

  “Thank you.”

  “You’re in your second year at Pratt, a little bit older than most sophomores.”

  “I took a few years off to travel abroad.” Years I sincerely regretted. If not for taking that time to play, I would have been a graduate of Pratt and wouldn’t be in my current predicament.

  “You’re majoring in architecture and interior design?” A look of confusion filled her face. “An odd combination.”

  “I was accepted into the architecture program, but I love interior design. I still have time before I have to pick one.”

  “Smart, talented, and an artist. Amazing qualities to have in a partner.”

  Did that make me more marketable?

  “I see your grades are in the top of your class, and I assume you’ll want to continue your studies?”

  “Patrick said that wouldn’t be a problem.”

  “Of course not.”

  If I sat any stiffer, I was going to tip forward and fall right on my face. My ankles ached from pressing them together. My legs slanted to the side, perfectly poised, and I held my back ramrod straight. I wanted to jump out of my skin with all the nervous energy I had swirling beneath my skin.

  “Ms. Flor—Karen,” I corrected, “did Patrick tell you about my circumstances?”

  “He did,” she said with a nod, “but even if he hadn’t, I have all the information at my disposal. Infidelity does extensive background investigations before we even get to this point.”

  All my dirty secrets were out. The Southern belle fallen on hard times. Could I become even more of a cliché?

  She leaned back and regarded me for a moment. “Are you willing to humor me for a moment, Rowan?”

  This woman held my future in her hands; there was very little I wouldn’t do.

  “Yes?”

  “I want you to close your eyes and take three deep breaths. Don’t think. Don’t worry. Just breathe. Breathe out all your anxiety and unease.”

  “I’m not—”

  “Humor me,” she insisted.

  My gaze darted to the windows behind her, to the blue sky outside and to the skyline of New York. I bit my lower lip and walked to the windows while she watched. I loved my father, but I hated what he’d done to me and to Freddy. I hated how his greed had forced me to this place. I abhorred how his selfishness had ripped him from us.

  A slow inhale filled my lungs while I stared out the window and fought my tears. Closing my eyes, I counted slowly until my lungs burned. I wasn’t getting rid of stress but rather gathering my anger and expelling it with each forceful breath. After five of these, my eyes opened, and I took in the scene outside. Somewhere out there, a man was waiting for me.

  “Feel better?” she said, coming to place a hand between my shoulder blades.

  “I’m not sure about better. Is it like this with everyone?”

  “That depends on what you mean.”

  “Why do people come to you? Is everyone like me?” Are they desperate and looking for relief from the tragedies of their lives? I couldn’t ask that, not without a flooding of tears.

  “Potential employees come to us for any number of reasons. Their reasons, like yours, belong to nobody but themselves. We will maintain your confidentiality, as we do theirs, and even the client we pair you with will only know what you choose to share.”

  “Is that so?”

  “Of course.”

  I breathed a little easier, but my chest still ached.

  “Patrick shared a little of your story and reasons this job would suit your current needs. I’m certain he explained what we do here at Infidelity.”

  “He did, but I have questions.”

  “Questions are good. Let’s begin with the obvious one—the one he said you might have the most difficult time with.”

  “Okay,” I said, not sure how I felt about Patrick’s openness with this woman about such intimate details of my life. But what kind of life was I living if I had to resort to a company like this and barter away my freedom for cash?

  “We do not sell sex. First and foremost, get that out of your head. What we sell is companionship. Our clients come to us, looking for a partner with poise and class. They’re looking for someone who can go out into the world with them, stand by their side, and be a companion. Someone they honestly enjoy spending time with. We sell compatibility, not sex.”

  “And yet I’m assuming most relationships wind up there.”

  “Any good pairing of two individuals has that potential. Compatibility and attraction are potent forces. Our clients trust our track record to find a partner they can share all aspects of their lives with, not just their public face. Intimacy is our specialty, but it’s not required.”

  “Patrick mentioned that.”

  “We have well over a hundred employees in extremely successful relationships. Our employees are happy. They don’t regret their decisions, and you won’t either. And we guarantee nothing will ever be disclosed, not about you and not about the nature of the agreement between you and our client.”

  “I see,” I said, understanding a little bit more about Infidelity.

  I still had more questions—like, Why one year?—and we spent well over an hour talking. Karen answered honestly, never shying away from delicate topics, until I suddenly realized the tension in my shoulders had evaporated, and I was no longer twisting my fingers with unease.

  “We broker relationships, Rowan, and relationships take time.”

  “But are they real?”

  “They’re as real and enduring as you choose to make them. Have you met Patrick’s partner?”

  “I have.”

  “Then, you already know the answer to that question.” She leaned back and crossed her arms. “Infidelity reimburses our employees well. The average salary is twenty thousand a month for living expenses, but you’ll find our clients’ generosity extends beyond that. I understand this would meet your current needs.”

  More than meet. “Yes. And no one will know how we met? That I’m being paid…”

  “No one will know those details, except you, me, your client, your sponsor, and your client’s sponsor. No one comes to us without a sponsor, and all sign nondisclosure agreements.”

  “I assume I’ll be tested for STDs, but what about condoms and monogamy?” Or pregnancy? I needed to ask about that.

  “Not all of our clients are monogamous. You will have a chance to list your preferences, your limits, and more. Some of our clients insist on condoms, and others insist on not using them. In that case, we provide ongoing monthly testing of both parties. For the duration of the contract, you agree to remain monogamous. No dating. No sexual relations with anyone other than our client. Anything like that can cause a media scandal—exactly the bad press and exposure we’re trying to avoid.”

  Our conversation continued, touching on everything and anything, until I’d exhausted every thought in my head. She reiterated what Patrick had said about being introduced to one client and one client only. Finally, Karen withdrew a folder from her desk and slid it across the table. It was an agreement, one with my name and today’s date on it.

  “Rowan, once you sign this agreement, you’re consenting to a full medical examination and extensive psychological testing. There’s one other thing…”

  “Yes?”

  “Until our intake exams are completed and especially after the physical exams, we ask for abstinence.”

  “Abstinence?”

  Patrick had mentioned it could take months to be paired with a client. Do the
y really expect me not to date until then? With a glance at the expression on Karen’s face, I realized that was the case.

  “And if I do…date, that is?”

  “We strongly advise against it and require that relationship to end. Signing this agreement signals your intent to make yourself available for an immediate pairing once we match you with our client. Being involved in a relationship complicates things.”

  “Okay.” I glanced at the agreement and reached for a pen.

  A watery veil rippled across my vision. My palms sweat each time Karen pointed to a line requiring my initials. Three pages. Such a short document to sell my soul, but I made it to that final line. With elegant script, I sealed my fate.

  No dating.

  It wasn’t a hard and fast rule, but Karen had stressed the importance of not getting involved in an outside relationship while the team at Infidelity worked their magic.

  I left her office and was ushered into a string of appointments and exams, both physical and psychological.

  “To ensure a perfect match,” she said along with another reminder about keeping Infidelity up to date on any romantic entanglements I might find myself in until the call came to meet my match.

  Now, all there was to do was wait.

  That didn’t mean I couldn’t go out, and the need to blow off a little steam boiled inside me. I’d sold my soul, and in a week, a month, maybe up to a year, I would have to fulfill the whole of that contract. I needed to disappear, lose myself within the crowd, and become something else for a night.

  My evening began alone, which was how I planned on ending it. I had every intention of honoring my contract with Infidelity. Without much of a thought for where I might wind up, I ate dinner at a small deli close to home, knowing perhaps it was wise to keep my stomach light. Then, I wandered, letting my subconscious guide me through the city as it came alive for the night. I shouldn’t have been surprised when my feet took me straight to Club Infinity. Here, nobody knew me, and I could lose myself and forget.

  I wanted to disappear. I needed to breathe. I couldn’t believe what I’d done.