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Wow, her skepticism went deep. Clearly, she had a hard life. The fact that her first instinct was to fight and grab a weapon, she had been through something. “No sex and no shackles. I swear. It would be a written contract signed by the both of us to ensure that we both held up our end of the deal. Just hear me out, please?”
I didn’t need to try so hard with her. I could have just allowed her to leave and went to one of the thousands of women that would have been more than happy to play house with me. The fact that she didn't know who I was and didn’t care was what I wanted. I wanted someone that would act normal, because if we had to live together for the next year, I didn’t want each day to be torture. I didn’t want to be trapped in a house with a woman I would never be able to get rid of. I also had to find a woman that got along with Zoey and could click with her, because she was going to be in Zoey’s life as well for the next year, and if Zoey didn’t like her, then the deal was never going to go through..
She crossed her arms over her chest and leaned back against the door as she spoke, “You have two minutes.”
“It’s a long story, but essentially my grandfather purchased a small town, Rose Falls, seven years ago and didn't tell me. He left it to me, but I have to have a wife. I am proposing that you be my fake wife so I can inherit the town.”
“I’m sorry what?” she was clearly shocked, not that I could blame her. It wasn’t everyday someone asked you to pretend to be their wife so they could get a town. That was the very definition of rich people problems.
“In order for the town to be placed in my name, I have to have a wife, which I don’t have. I need a woman to be my fake wife, and I would like that to be you. You would live with me and my daughter for a year when it would be safe for me to get a divorce. I can pay you so much each month, and after a year, I can pay you out a larger amount. Again, it will all be in the contract so we both know what is expected of the other and what the terms are.”
“Why don’t you just find a wife? Why go through the hassle of trying to fake it?”
“Because I don’t want to be married. I don’t want a wife, and I only have three months to make this happen before the land goes back to the bank to be resold. If it was just myself, I might not care as much. But it would go to my daughter once she was of age. This is her future and a legacy that could be passed down throughout the generations. I can’t simply let that slide. The simplest option is to find a woman that is willing to play my wife for a year. Afterwards we both go our separate ways. A clear-cut business transaction.”
I knew I was trying to make it simpler than it truly was. In my mind I thought this could work. Both parties got something, and there was no reason to turn it into something complicated. Living with someone wouldn’t be easy, but we could both adapt. We could have our own separate bedrooms and live as roommates. Then whenever we needed to make public appearances, we could pretend to be married with minimal PDA. Arranged marriages were still real in parts of the world. They didn’t meet their spouse until they were standing at the altar. There was no reason logically why this couldn’t work.
“Well, good luck with that. It’s a no from me,” she said as she pushed off from the door.
“Look, you are obviously in a difficult place. This could help you. You wouldn't have to live in your car any longer. By the end of the year, you would have enough money to start fresh anywhere you wanted. Buy a house, a car that was created in this decade. You could chase your passions, whatever they might be. This is a once in a lifetime opportunity. How could you possibly turn that down?”
I hadn’t been expecting to have to fight to convince someone to do this with me. Hell, I could go up to almost any guy and they would be all for it, gay or not. This was the type of story that Playboy writes about, not that any guy ever reads the articles.
“By knowing that when something sounds too good to be true is always anything but. I didn’t get to where I am by being stupid and making reckless decisions. Taking unnecessary risks. I’m not about to throw all of that away for a pair of deep brown eyes with a nice smile. I’m sure you won’t have a hard time finding anyone to do this with you. But it ain’t gonna be me,” she reached out, and grabbed the doorknob before she said one last thing to me. “Thanks for the great sex.”
And with that, she was walking out of my life, and I suspected I was never going to be seeing her again.
Maya
“No,no,no,pleasedon’t do this,” I whined as my car sputtered and smoke started to come out of the hood. “Fuck,” I snapped as I slammed my hand down on my steering wheel. This was the last thing I needed.
I pulled over to the side of the road. Thankfully, I wasn’t on a busy highway, just some back road. I wouldn’t have to worry about traffic rear ending me. At the same time though, there was no telling how long it would take before a car drove by that would be willing to stop to help me. I was praying it was just overheating, and I only needed to let it cool down for a bit. I was still in Texas. I had plans of leaving the state, but it was rather large, and it had a bunch of small little towns in it that were great to hide out in and get a cash job for a few days.
I popped my hood before I got out to try and check out what went wrong. I could fix cars. I’ve always enjoyed working with my hands. Had my life been different, I might have owned a garage or something. Maybe a woodworking shop or something. I don’t know. I hadn’t really figured that part out yet, but I foolishly thought I had all the time in the world.
Now I just did the odd job when I could get someone to hire a woman. Most garages or labor jobs didn’t think a woman could handle the work. Sometimes I could get around the stereotype, but for the most part, I was stuck working as a waitress. Something you would think I would be good at, but even after five years of working in the odd diner, I seriously sucked. I couldn’t even begin to figure out how many trays of food or drinks that I’ve ended up wearing.
The second I opened the hood I was hit with a bunch of smoke, not white smoke that would indicate it was overheated, but black smoke. Which meant something was seriously wrong with it. Fuck. Keeping this car running had always been a battle. It was old, but it was cheap, so I bought it. Just like the cars before it and now the car after it, I had no money for repairs. No money for a tow. I was gonna have to find a job in the closest town and make the money. I had no idea what I was gonna do with my car until then though. Maybe push it off into the woods on the other side of the street. If I kept it hidden enough, I could walk into town for work and still sleep in my car. It wouldn’t be ideal, but it was a hell of a lot better than sleeping on the street. The problem was I think the closest town was Houston, and I tended to avoid big cities, but this time around it was looking like I had no choice.
To most this would be a simple problem, but to me it was making me want to break down and cry, because it was one more thing. It was one more nail in my coffin. One more problem that I was going to have to figure out because there was no one else that could help me. I was on my own and sometimes that was great. But other times I wished someone else could carry the load. That I didn't have to be the strong one all the damn fucking time.
There were no days where I could hide under the covers and let someone else handle life for me. I always had to be the one to carry the burden and to keep moving because if I stopped for too long, I could be dead. It was exhausting and some days I didn't think I was going to make it through.
Before I could get lost too deep down the depression rabbit hole, a black truck slowed down and pulled up in front of me. It was sweet of them to stop, but with no money, the best I could hope for was a ride into town. Maybe there was a small diner or something on the outskirts that I could work at. I made my way towards the driver’s side door. My body tensed; I was always ready to react should something surprising happen. The hum of the window’s engine hit my ears before I saw it moving down. I looked in to see the one person I never thought I would ever see again. Charlie Beaumont.
Son of a bitch.
It had been a month since two things had happened. I had the best sex of my life and quite possibly for the rest of my life. I was also called a prostitute and offered money to pretend to be his wife for a year. I still couldn’t believe that conversation had even happened. It sounded like something out of some cheesy romance movie. The kind that only goes straight to TV because even the executives knew they wouldn’t make money in a theater off it. I couldn’t stand those types of movies or novels. The kind of romance where this man swoops in to save the damsel. I didn’t need a man to save me. I didn’t need a man to complete me. I would much prefer to do my own saving. It’s why I had taught myself how to change my tires or my oil when I was just sixteen.
“Fancy meeting you here,” he said with a smirk as he went and got out of his truck. “I would have thought you were long out of the state by now. Though, with your car, it’s not surprising that you didn't.”
“I like my car,” I said in its defense.
It was a complete lie. I hated the fucking thing. It ate gas like it was trying to win a hot dog eating contest. The AC didn’t work, and by didn't work, I meant didn’t come with that option. It’s why I tended to stick to the more milder temperature states. The problem with that though was winter, because running the heat all night ate gas, and that brought me back my first point. But the parts were cheap should I need to make repairs and the backseat was large enough that I could lay down without having to deal with an armrest or a seatbelt up my ass. It was also only five hundred bucks and really what could I expect from something that cheap?
“I’m sorry,” he said as he held his hands up in a mock surrender, but I could still see a hint of a smirk, and I wanted to punch him for it. Or kiss him. It was all very confusing. “Why don't I take a look at it and see what the problem is?”
“I didn’t know you were a mechanic,” I said as he was already making his way towards my car without me giving him permission to.
