Contractual Obligation: The Contract (4 page)

“I’ll be honest,” he started, “I don’t even know who my friends are anymore. Once you hit a certain level of success, people want things from you. It’s easy to have a lot of people you know, and not get attached and hurt.”

She was surprised by his painfully honest response. He wasn’t just smoke and mirrors; there was a real man under that tough exterior.

He continued, “I guess I want to thrive in business. I don’t really put a lot of effort into my personal life. It’s easier that way, partying, pretending like it all doesn’t matter, but I guess sometimes it feels empty and gets old. Honestly, I think I’m lonely, but I’m almost afraid to admit it to myself. I’ve watched my father go through
one woman after the other after I lost my mom. I just didn’t want to be him, but I’ve been using them in my own way, refusing to give more of myself than a brief encounter.”

She liked this more vulnerable man before her. There was something attractive about his brutal honesty. They could at least be friends, after all, they were about to share five years together.

“What?” He said, noting the way she was looking at him.

“Nothing, I just saw this sweetness in you, a little boy lost in a grown man’s body.”

“You’re a beautiful woman,” he said, changing the topic, “but I’d love to get to know you better too. I’m thinking there’s more to you than you’ve shared so far.”

It was only fair. He’d shared something personal. She lowered her gaze to her drink, not wanting to look him in the eye as she spoke.

“I’ve always thought I wasn’t good enough. I’ve always come in second place in life. So I have this insane desire to prove I’m worthy enough to be in first place. I’m driven by the stupidest little things.”

“You took first place this time,” he said, reaching across the table, resting his hand on hers. “I chose you.”

There was a moment between them, their eyes connecting. This wasn’t good, they weren’t supposed to get attached, this wasn’t emotional – it needed to stay a business transaction. He was the first to break away, pulling his hand back.

“So, tell me about your family. I’d love to hear about my future in-laws.” Redirecting the conversation felt safer. This sharing personal crap was risky – especially if your heart got involved.

“Ah, Mom and Dad, they’re your standard parents. Happy for me when I succeed, disappointed when I have ideas of my own. They push me to want more, than make me feel guilty when I dream big. You know, conflicted over whether they want me to soar or want me to stay close to home so they can watch over me and tell me what to do.”

Michael laughed, “That’s quite a description. Do you have any brothers or sisters?”

“One older brother, he’s an engineer, married, has one kid, another on the way. What about you?”

“No, only me
,” his voice got quiet. “You know, I looked back through all of my contacts, and there wasn’t a single person I would consider asking to step into the role of my wife. It was eye opening, I don’t have a lot of close connections – I tend to keep people at an arm’s distance.”

Natalie felt the hidden pain in his voice. He was speaking words that he wished weren’t true. “It’s an odd situation, isn’t it?”

“I hope we can become friends through all of this,” he looked sincere.

“That would be nice,” she kept eye contact; trying to read anything he was willing to give away. She wanted to get to know him, and the better they got along the easier it would be, but wh
at did he really want from her, friendship, commitment, or an employee that follows orders? She knew it was a contractual obligation, but if they were going to spend five years together, she hoped he at least treated her well. When it came down to it, there was probably a reason he wasn’t close to anybody – and that came down to him.

As the drinks flowed, more details came out, and sharing bits and pieces of one another, he realized she was a nice girl. Sure she’d signed a contract and was willing to be paid to be his wife, but she was used to being paid for her appearance. At least her personality was better than the empty vessels he often met at the clubs.

Paying the tab, the couple headed outside to catch a cab. Michael looked at Natalie, “I know this is crazy, but could I see you again?”

Natalie laughed, “We’re about to get engaged, and then married. I’d say the answer to that question is yes. Yes, you can see me again.”

Taking her hand, he lifted it to his lips, and kissed it tenderly. “I meant might I be able to go on a date with you, the real you, not the stand-in wife version of you.”

“Aren’t they the same?”

“Are they?”

Natalie blushed. “Do you think that’s a good idea?”

“I don’t know, but I really like you, and I’d like to know you better.”

“Let’s sleep on it,” she said, not wanting to turn away from him. She didn’t want to jump in too quickly, she’d signed a contract and things could get sticky.

“That sounds like a good idea,” he raised his arm, calling a cab. “I’m going to walk,” he smiled, tucking her into the cab and handing the driver her fare.

Natalie caught herself grinning like a school girl. Michael was interesting, attractive, and smart. He was a great catch in a normal circumstance, though he was honest about having major commitment issues. Isn’t it funny, that they’d be committing in a business arrangement, something he feared emotionally, but was okay with without strings attached.

She replayed his words in her mind, his desire to see her again. Only he wasn’t asking for the contract, he was asking for himself. The look in his eyes made that obvious. What happened if they got involved, would they fall in love? What happened if he bored of her like all the others, and she was stuck in that commitment for years, would he be cold, making her pay out of resentment. It was probably best to keep things polite and friendly.

Though, maybe they could be friends with benefits, not getting emotionally attached, but enjoying each other time to time. Natalie’s cheeks
flushed; almost worried the taxi driver could read her thoughts. Maybe she’d be different – maybe she could fix him, change his…she stopped the thought, knowing it was foolish to believe she’d be any different.

Pulling up to her building, she thanked the driver and found her way inside. She’d have to think carefully about this.

She tossed it around all night long, and then finally falling asleep, decided it couldn’t hurt to give it a chance, maybe these five years together would be something special, something loving and warm, and they’d been brought together by fate.

Michael walked down the crowded sidewalk wearing a smile. He liked this woman more than he intended to. She was easy to talk to, beautiful, and willing to go after what she wanted.
He wanted to touch her, hold her, and kiss her sweet lips.

Only, he knew his pattern. He knew he’d bore of her like the others, and then what. They’d still be stuck together, and she’d grow resentful that he’d used her, and then moved on. She could make his life miserable – after all they’d be married.

Sucking in, he realized it was a mistake to want more from the girl. They needed to keep things cordial. Getting involved wouldn’t do – it would only complicate things, and that was the last thing he needed in his personal life. He was doing this for the company, for their business, and he needed to keep it in perspective. If he’d met her at the club any other night, he would have taken her to bed and dumped her a day or two later…this isn’t any different.

Keep your head in the game, Michael
.

He decided he’d tell her it was a mistake, and they’d only maintain a business relationship. She’d probably be relieved anyway. She didn’t sign up for love, she signed up for money.

Waking up, Natalie felt lighter, happier. She’d grown comfortable with the idea of blurring the lines, and letting the chips fall where they may.
Should she call him, send him a text, or wait for him to contact her? She decided she’d wait for him to get in touch with her, and when he asked her again, she would say yes – yes, they could get to know each other more with the possibility of something happening. It was kind of exciting.

Padding over to feed Emily in her pajamas, she filled her water
and food bowl. As she bent down to pet the cat, she didn’t dart away like usual, but cautiously let Natalie pet her. Mrs. Burton would be home soon enough, but at least her cat wasn’t afraid of Natalie any more.

Last night was a surprise. It was so much better than she expected. She thought there’d be stiff conversation, awkward exchange
s, and a bit of anxiety mixed in, having to spend time with Michael, but it was anything but that. Instead, he was open, warm, charismatic, and oh so good to look at.

Humming in the shower, she closed her eyes to picture him again. She could see him vividly, his short, cropped hair, his gorgeous eyes, and that body. Natalie exhaled deeply, letting herself bathe in his details. And that scent, his cologne, a mix of spicy cinnamon, she could drink him up…oh, this is bad. She realized she was way more attracted to the guy then she should be.
Cool your jets, girl, take it slowly
.

Michael woke feeling better that he’d made a final decision. Sure she was gorgeous, easy to be around, warm and friendly, but it would complicate things, and he didn’t need complications. He’d draw the line in the sand early on, apologizing that he asked for more. It was the smart thing to do.

He’d send a text, short and to the point. That way she couldn’t read into it. With his gut twisting, he knew it was the right thing to do. Hitting send, he closed his eyes for a moment while picturing her. Keep it cordial, polite, and business-like – it’s the only way.

Natalie’s phone
buzzed. She hoped it was from Michael.

“
Changed mind - let’s keep it business-friendly
.”

No emotion, no anything tied to it. It felt empty, and staring at the words she didn’t know what to say. She sent back a simple, “
Okay
,” but wanted to say so much more.

She wanted to tell him to take a chance, that it might be worth it, and that she was attracted to him, and she knew he was attracted to her, and not to be afraid, and to take the leap, after all they’d be spending years together – and yet, all she could send was an “okay”.

Frustrated, she sat on her bed staring at the message. What had changed? Shaking her head, “That’s fine,” she said to nobody in particular. “It’s a job, foolish girl.” Why did it hurt? She was so silly to have started falling for him last night over drinks. He’s just a smooth talker, knowing what buttons to push to get a reaction out of a woman…he was obviously a player.

With a quick reminder of how much she was getting paid, the pain vanished. It’s a job, and a damn good one, there’s no reason to be upset.

Michael wanted to set up a photo-op, showing up at a highly photographed restaurant patio, and asked her to dress to the nines. He’d had so many drunken photos splashed in the papers with women hanging all over him, so an attentive shot of him looking to be in love with a woman over dinner would be perfect. Of course, they would probably overlook him, since he wouldn’t be making a buffoon of himself.

He never used to be news. Who cares what some business guy does, but he was hanging with the beautiful people, and was cast as a socialite of sort.
After being seen with enough models and important people at the big clubs, he slid into VIP status. He had the money, looked the part, and the ladies loved him. Next thing he knew his picture was showing up in the papers, and once they grabbed onto him, he didn’t disappoint, always giving them another photo moment.

It was time for him to manipulate the media, and change the image he was sending out. Hopefully they’d grow bored with him, and after a shot or two of who is the eligible bachelor dating, they’d move on, and he could live his lie in the shadows, and build his business career.

He’d need to call her, tell her to be available this weekend, and what she should wear. He wondered how she’d feel about that, him dictating bits and pieces of her life. She was obviously willing to sign the contract, so he guessed she’d adjust.

Work kept Michael busy, but as the day moved on, he found himself thinking back on their conversation over drinks. There was something in her eyes, her soft, sweet face. And that gorgeous hair, he wanted to run his fingers through it. She had depth, there was realness to her – she didn’t feel phony, and yet, she signed that damn contract.

If he’d met her under different circumstances, would he still be thinking about her this way? Was it that he wasn’t going to touch her, did it make him want her more?

Picking up the phone, he dialed her number. When she didn’t answer, he left a message. “We should do dinner around eight on Saturday
for a photo opportunity. I’d like you to wear a soft, feminine dress, something elegant and classy. I’ll send a car for you,” he said, trying to keep his tone flat, not showing interest. He was interested, and this was going to be a problem.

Natalie saw the call come in, but didn’t answer it
on seeing his name on the caller ID. She wasn’t ready to talk to him. If she heard his voice, she might get sucked in, and needed to remain as detached as possible. And what would she say? Would she give away that she was hoping for more, getting excited by the possibility of something happening?

She waited for the call to finish, and then listened to the voicemail. Dinner at eight on Saturday - that was simple enough, though it felt weird to be told what to wear.
You’re being paid, this is a job, she reminded herself once again – get it through your thick head – this is a job
.

Sifting through her closet, she couldn’t find anything that caught her eye. One thing she’d need to do once those payments hit her account was update her wardrobe. She did the best she could, but money was tight.

And what about her parents, should she tell them she met someone? It would seem strange to hear she was getting engaged in a few months. Oh god, they’d want to meet him. This was bigger than it seemed, when she realized it wouldn’t just involve her. She’d be living a lie, and have to sell that lie to others. Her stomach churned.