Chapter 3 Signing The Contract

• Date = 18 March
• Place = San Francisco (Enrique’s home)
• POV - Enrique
• “Do you want something to drink before we start?” I ask, getting up from the bed a little too quickly.
• “Coffee, coffee, coffee,” she pleads, holding her hands together as if she’s praying. How can she be so comfortable? I feel as if I can’t breathe.
• I walk behind her to the kitchen. Her hips sway sensually with each step and I take a deep frustrated breath. I’m mantsy as hell.
• ‘Get a grip on those hormones, Blackburn!’ I pep talk myself out of my daze and notice her eyes moving over my body before she plops down on one of the red high chairs standing in a row at the breakfast nook.
• I’ll have to think out some strategy to get the sex thoughts out of my head else I’ll be walking with a hard-on all the time. Maybe we should include sexual rights in the contract, I mean … she must have needs too.
• I turn my back towards her and focus on the red Nespresso, putting a pod inside and pressing the button. Almost immediately the coffee starts pouring into the cup. Think, Blackburn!
• I have to think about her flaws … stuff that would put me off … disgusting features that would make me not want to screw her … I smile, proud of the plan. But now, we first have to settle the contract.
• “Rule one – you will pretend to be my girlfriend and I will pay for all Leyla’s medical and other expenses until she recovers. Do you agree with it so far?” I turn around and hand her the steaming cup of cappuccino.
• “Yes, but remember we’ve agreed that the money is only a loan, I’ll work and pay you back.” I put another capsule in the machine.
• “It’s not necessary, you being my girlfriend is a job and that is your payment … okay, rule 2, after ending this contract a grace period of two months must elapse before either party may officially date again. Just so nobody gets suspicious.” I turn again to look at her and she shrugs her shoulders, nodding her head in confirmation.
• “Great. Next one. Both parties will act as if deeply in love whenever somebody is around.” She doesn’t interrupt so I take it as a ‘yes’.
• “Also, you may not do anything embarrassing in public, no arguing, no fighting, no tantrums, and no other improper behavior of any kind. I know about the airport scene, but we’ll talk about that later. Do you want to add something?”
• “Yes, you may not humiliate me for any reason.” She looks me straight in the eye, her gaze not faltering.
• “Why do you assume I would?”
• “You seem like a cold and heartless person.” Her gaze is still unrelenting challenging me. I pout. She’s right but why do her words hurt more than they should?
• “No, problem, I can do that. Rule 5, you will be provided with a proper wardrobe, shoes, and accessories, so always make sure you look presentable when you leave the complex. I will have the last say on your outfits. My girlfriend will look sexy but never slutty.”
• Her green eyes change into small fires and she takes a deep breath and bites her lip as if to calm herself. Damn, she looks so darn cute and hot at the same time and I can’t hide my smile. This seems to piss her off even more.
• “Slutty sounds like a YOU problem,” she hisses blowing some steam from her cup and suddenly railing her up becomes my most favorite thing to do.
• “And I won’t let you dictate what I wear. But don’t worry, I have some fashion sense at least. I make my most money with my make-up and fashion videos on social media, S.P.O.R.T!” She pulls out the last word as if it’s an insult, but I don’t have a clue what it means. So she’s an influencer and I wonder how many followers she has. Thinking back at the outfit she was wearing previously, I’m not gonna argue.
• “Let’s not dwell on name-calling, Fairy-fly. You can choose the clothes, but I will tell you when I think you’re dressed inappropriately. Can we go on to the next one?” I increase my smile, hoping to irritate her more. It does, but she keeps her cool, her eyes the only thing to reveal her true emotions.
• “Super, next, you will be available whenever I need you, and where ever I need you. Anything you want to add here?”
• “Yes.” I roll my eyes and now it’s my turn to sigh.
• “I’ll be available, but Leyla comes first. If she needs me you won’t insist and drag me away from her.” I frown, does she really think I’m that much of a monster?
• “Agreed, when Leyla is sick, in the hospital, or having tests done, you will be by her side, and I’ve already arranged the best possible babysitters for her when you need to accompany me. Okay?” I can see I surprised her. Get used to it, baby.
• “Okay … please continue.” The fires in her eyes change to a feeling I’m not capable to understand. Feeling a bit uncomfortable I start playing with my empty cup.
• “Where are we … oh yes, rule 7 … you will stay here for the duration of the contract and I will give you a credit card to buy everything and anything you and Leyla need. You will also use it to buy groceries and so on.”
• “I agree to buy what you need, but I will find a job and buy my own personal stuff. I don’t want your money for anything else than Leyla’s medical expenses. And this is not debatable.” Stubborn freaking girl.
• “And where will you find time to do this job?” I look down into that pretty little face, trying to make notes of any imperfections, like her slightly crooked mouth, the muddy brown spots in her eyes, the uneven dimples in her cheeks, and the soft freckles on her nose. Why doesn’t it turn me off, but instead make me even want her more? She looks back and for a while, we have another stare-down contest.
• “Don’t worry, I’m used to long hours, I’ll make time. I can waitress somewhere as I’ve done before.” Over my dead body is my girlfriend going to waitress at some cheap coffee shop or overcrowded bar. Then a bright idea hits me.
• “Okay, you can work at the club.” Hesitation runs over her face.
• “No special treatment or anything like that,” she says, her eyes a bit weary.
• “You’ll get the same salary as the other workers,” I lie for the sake of peace.
• “I accept, you can go on to the next clause.” She breaks our eye connection and I walk up to the window and stare out at the ocean. It’s windy today and the waves run unpleasantly onto the beach, giving the scene a somber atmosphere.
• I love the ocean; its unpredictability, its stormy wild waves crashing ferociously against the rocks, over and over again, as if it can’t get rid of its anger and frustration. It’s how I feel deep inside, uncontrollable, as if I’m slowly drowning, just to wake up and drown all over again. I take a deep breath and let it out slowly. What would I not give for one day of peace and calmness, a day without waves - tranquility, happiness?
• “Enrique, are you alright?” She’s standing right behind me. “I mean, you don’t look too good … not that you look bad, cause you don’t … look bad that is … you’re kinda hot … ya, neh … that’s if you were my type … which your not …“
• She gets flustered and stops talking, her cheeks flooding red and her eyes looking down to the ground. She knocks her temple a few times with her fist, probably reprimanding herself, but I loved the whole scenario. This girl is way different from the ones I usually hang out with - but in a good way.
• “Yes, I was just a bit lost in the view.” And I’m not talking about the one outside, more like the one right in front of me.
• “It’s amazing. I love the ocean.” My now girlfriend is standing right beside me, her face shining with awe, her hand on my arm. I notice the porcelain skin, and the fullness of her lips, and my dick decides to make a move. Fuck, suddenly I wish she looked more like Noah, you know large and big-boned. Flaws, find the flaws. Okay, her legs are too short … well, obviously since she barely reaches my shoulder. Her hips … fuck … the only thing I can find wrong with her hips is that they are not linked to mine.
• I clear my throat, “Let’s finish this … I guess you don’t have another boyfriend I have to worry about?” This is not part of the contract, but I suddenly just felt like finding out. I mean, I don’t want some random guy to sucker punch me in the street or something.
• “Nope, there’s no one special in my life, but while we’re at this point, I would like to add another rule to this contract. Rule 8, no flirting, kissing, or any sexual encounters with other people for the duration of this fake relationship. I don’t want to be the girl that gets pitied by everybody because her playboy boyfriend can’t keep his dick in his pants. After all this, I need to go away from here with at least my dignity still intact.”
• Wow. I’m dumbstruck. Although I’m not the sex-manic everybody thinks me to be, a few months of celibacy is also not my forte. But I understand her point and damn if I’m going to let her be with another man for that matter. Just thinking about it revs up my anger.
• “It’s not that I care where you choose to stick your dick in … well, I do care … that is for while we’re dating … not that we’re dating-dating … but still, everybody thinks we’re dating-dating … ug … you know what I mean.”
• “Okay, I accept. But I must warn you not to fall in love with me,” I lean forward and can’t help the big smile on my face. Fuck this girl is cute. But I can’t have her catch feelings I won’t be able to reciprocate.
• “No problem there, but the same goes for you then,” she says, her eyes holding mine. It’s the first time ever a girl doesn’t swoon over me, hell, she doesn’t even seem to be slightly impressed at all. It bothers me more than I want to admit.
• “Can’t fall in love when you don’t have a heart.”
• “Great, but you’ll keep your word on not cheating?” I make a cross-my-heart motion. I don’t think she totally believes me, and her next words confirm this suspicion.
• “And just to make things a little more interesting, let’s put in clause 9 stating that in case any of the above rules are violated, the guilty party may receive some kind of punishment from the other party.”
• I like this, I like it a lot. And I’m already thinking of great ways to pleasurably discipline her and a sly smile forms on my lips. She rolls her eyes and points her index finger at me, the tip just touching my chest.
• “Scratch those dirty thoughts, playboy, these punishments may not include physical abuse, public humiliation, or sexual favors.”
• “Thanks for taking the fun out of it.” I snort disappointed, but I’m still going to deliberately make her break the rules, just to have some fun disciplining her.
• “So, let’s get to point 10, the last point will be that this contract will stay between you and me, and no talking to the press or anybody about personal or sensitive information.” She agrees.
• “And while we’re at this point, what happened at the airport? Are you out looking for fame?”
• Dean called while she was in the shower, telling me that my new girlfriend already made the headlines due to some or another incident at the airport. I am a bit disappointed that she was just like the rest, a fame-seeker. I mean, why else would she tell everybody that she’s my girlfriend?
• She moves a step closer and we get caught in yet another face-down. This time I can see she’s eagerly pissed off.
• “Fame?” We are eyeball-to-eyeball. Her face seems flushed and her hands clench in tight fists.
• “So you think I would coax my sick little sister to go around telling people that I’m your girlfriend just to get in the spotlight? Are you serious right now?”
• Leyla told the people? Okay, I might have been a bit judgmental, being used to girls that only want fame and fortune. Shit.
• “Um, I’m sorry, I didn’t know Leyla was the one that told everybody.” I put my hand on her shoulder but she shakes it off. I blink twice, knowing I was wrong, and regret spills over me in warm layers.
• “So you thought I told people … to get attention? Unfuckingbelievable! Let’s get one thing straight, I’m not in this for the fame or the fortune, I’m only doing it for my sister cause I don’t have any other fucking choice! So next time, make sure of your facts beforehand,” she snaps, pointing an accusing finger at me.
• “And you made me swear … shit! On the contrary, I hated what happened at the airport. I don’t like people invading my privacy,” she freezes for a moment and stares into space, clearly thinking of something, and then her eyes meet mine again.
• “You know, if your personality was just half the goodness of your looks, you would be almost a perfect man … now your just a handsome prick.”
• “So you think I’m handsome?” My new hobby, remember – teasing Aria.
• “Ug …”
• “Okay, okay, I’ll leave it at that. Does the contract fit the bill?”
• “Yes, I’m satisfied.”
• “Great, I’ll print it so we can sign it.”
• “I’ll check on Leyla,” she says walking away, me staring at that perfect ass, and it feels as if I’m suffocating. What am I going to do? My brothers are like fucking praying mantises, feeding off the slightest hint of insecurity. The worst thing to do in this scenario is to show uncertainty about my feelings for Aria. So I have to stay cool even if I feel like I’m stuck on the spinning cycle of a washing machine.
• Looking through the window again, I push the bottom part of my palm hard against my brow. Please let this work, please, please, please … I’m not sure if it’s a prayer or a chant.