Page 45 of Twisted Truth

“So, we both just go without sex for what, six months? A year? The only thing that wasn’t firm in that contract was the actual end date.”

“We can’t predict the length of time. We’ll cut it off when it’s served its purpose.”

“Yes, and in the meantime, we live in this penthouse like we’re an old married couple with no interest in sex. Except that we’re not an old married couple. How is that supposed to work?”

I take a long drink, a little off kilter, and a lot turned on, by the direction of Ella’s questions. I’ve tried very hard all day to keep my thoughts about her clean, and here she is, asking about sex. Fuck.

But I can’t go there with her.

I choose my words carefully as I answer her question. “I have a contact that could be of help to us. If we reach a point where either of us is in . . . need, this contact can provide for that need.”

She furrows her brows and sets down her glass. “Explain.”

“It’s exactly as I said. I have a contact that works with highly sought after professionals to meet the needs of wealthy men and women. It’s not as strange as it may seem, at least not in my world.”

She’s silent for a moment. Then she looks disgusted. “So, if I haveneeds,I, what? Just let you know so you can contact some sort of pimp or call service to send someone over?”

“It’s not some dirty operation.” My tone is tight and defensive.

“And how do we make sure my good-time-lay doesn’t talk? More NDAs?”

“The men and women who work there are very professional and are aware they have to sign NDAs. They do it regularly.”

“Lovely. So I can get an STI from a high-class call boy because he’s used to signing NDAs.”

“You wouldn’t get an STI.” I take another drink of wine, annoyed.

She rolls her eyes. “I’m so glad you feel confident enough to guarantee that. Unlike you, I’m not used to sleeping with whoever comes along.”

A flash of anger burns through me. “I may have slept around, but it’s not like I just fuck anyone, anytime. I do have boundaries.”

“Well I’m certainly not going to pay someone to fuck me.”

“You wouldn’t,” I sneer. “I’d be paying them.”

Her eyes could cut with the glare she sends my way.

“I’m doing everything to make this as easy as I can for you,” I grit out. “But if you think you can have some side boyfriend, you’re very, very wrong. It would ruin everything. Plus, I don’t share what’s mine.”

“I’m not yours,” she hisses. “This is not a relationship. This is a contract—a job—only.”

She stands up from the table and tosses her napkin down.

“You don’t want to stay for dessert?” I say in a scathing tone.

“Oh, no. I have work to do, remember? And I’m going to make sure it’s perfect. Because the better the strategy, the faster this façade will do its job. Which means the faster it will end. I’ll give you your media frenzy, and then I’m getting out of here.” She turns and climbs the staircase without a backward glance.

Fuck.

Fuck, almighty.

It’s the first night, and we’re already in a fight. Five minutes ago we were laughing and teasing—flirting. And now this. This is the second biggest reason I don’t do relationships. They’re too much drama and too much hassle. And now I’m contractually obligated to stay in it.

But right now, I can’t help but agree with Ella. The faster we make this work, the faster we can both be free.

14

ELLA