“Twenty five hundred dollars for three days' work?” She did some quick math in her head. That was over a hundred dollars an hour.
He smiled. “I take care of what's mine. Besides, you do provide extra services. I think what I'm paying is fair. Don't you?”
“Y-yes, Sir.” The idea of him paying her for her services was sending an unexpected jolt of pleasure between her legs. Just when she thought he couldn't make something dirtier, he went that little extra mile. “I can't cash this though.”
“Oh? And why is that?”
“I doubt I still have a bank account. They close inactive accounts. And my driver's license is expired.”
“That's not a problem.” Lindsay pulled a card from his coat pocket and handed it to her. “This is from the bank at the end of the block. The president is a very close friend of mine. I've spoken with him, and he understands you have challenges with ID. He's going to set something up for you so you can bank without a problem. Just ask for him and say you have an appointment. He's expecting you. Then I want you to take the afternoon off. Go shopping, buy yourself some pretty things, and I'll meet you back here at nine o'clock.”
She couldn't believe it. She was going to have real money of her own. She was going to get to go shopping in a real store and walk out with bags.
“Wait... how do you know I won't go to the police?”
Lindsay smiled. “Because I'm giving you everything you've ever fantasized about.” Then he winked at her again. “And you kind of like me. Now go.”
She was starting to more than kind of like him, but she wasn't prepared to let him know that.
“Thank you.”
“My pleasure.”
He disappeared back into his office and closed the door behind him.
Did he really trust her not to go to the police? Shouldn't she? He was right, though. He was giving her everything she'd ever fantasized about. It was a kinky dream come true. She wasn't about to ruin it.
It would be wonderful if she could just report Brian. She'd love to see that motherfucker behind bars. But there was no way to put him in prison without implicating the doctor. And she found, much to her chagrin, that she no longer hated Lindsay enough to destroy him.
Riding the elevator down ten floors by herself was strange. She hadn't been alone with this much freedom since she'd first been brought to the house.
She'd been nervous and excited the whole drive. And she kept thinking Lindsay was going to... touch her. But he never did. Not once. Until recently.
The bank at the end of the block was large and local to the city. There were several regional branches, but it wasn't a mega chain. She pushed through the revolving gold-colored door. It emptied out into a swank lobby.
This was where the people with old money banked. She remembered years ago she used to drive past it and think about the kind of people who came here. It seemed more like a country club than a bank. She'd heard people got turned away routinely if they didn't open huge accounts.
Suddenly she felt very self-conscious in what she was wearing and the look the teller at the open window was giving her—that snotty derisive judgment—wasn't helping. The girl behind the counter said, “I think you might be in the wrong place.”
It really wasn't just a rumor. These assholes had no interest in smaller accounts. Shannon looked back down at the card again. “I'm here to see Martin Graysen.”
The girl laughed. “I don't think so.”
“No really. I have an appointment. My name is Shannon Foster.”
The girl still looked skeptical and like she was about to have a great joke to laugh about with her friends over the weekend, but she picked up the phone on her desk and dialed a few numbers. “Mr. Graysen, a woman named Shannon Foster claims she has an appointment with you.”
The girl's eyes grew large. “Yes, Sir.” She disconnected the call. “You can go right up. He's at the end of the hallway on the fourteenth floor.”
“Thank you,” Shannon said, offering her sweetest fake smile. What a bitch.
The fourteenth floor opened out to a reception area, behind which was a very large office with glass for walls allowing her to see inside the president's office from the reception desk. There was an enormous window that stretched from floor to ceiling and went the whole length of the office. Mr. Graysen must not be afraid of heights.
“I'm sorry, are you lost?” the receptionist asked.
“I have an appointment with Martin Graysen.” She expected to have to navigate another rude gauntlet but instead the woman smiled.
“Shannon?”
“Yes.”
“You can go right on in.”
“Thank you.”
Once again, she felt underdressed. She went into the office and sat down. A moment later, the door opened again, and Mr. Graysen sat down behind a large oak desk. He was about Lindsay's age and nearly as good looking. And tall. Very tall.
“All right, Shannon, I've got you set up. Your account is all ready to go. Here is your debit card, as well as a credit card in your name. I'm afraid the limit on the credit card is only twenty-five thousand. If you'll give me your check, I'll get that deposited right away for you, and I'll send you down to HR to get an employee ID card made. They'll think you work at one of the other branches but it will allow you to deposit or cash checks without a hassle in the future. We let our employees bank here. One of the perks.”
“I-I'm sorry, but how is this already set up? How do I already have cards in my name?”
“Doctor Smith called me last week. He's a priority customer and a dear friend.”
“I- Okay, but... I mean, isn't this all a little weird to you?” She couldn't imagine what he must think Lindsay was paying her $2,500 a week to do. Did he think she was his whore? It was sort of true. But it also wasn't.
“Relax, Miss Foster. I know you're his pet.”
Off her surprised expression he said, “I'm not sure I should be telling you this, but I got a girl from the house he helps run. She's absolutely wonderful. I couldn't be happier.”
“Oh. I see.”
“You must be very special. I've teased him for years about not having anyone. It'll be just one moment, and then we can send you down to HR. I've got a little card all filled out so they won't ask any questions. They'll just take a quick photo, make your ID card, and you'll be ready to go.”
Mr. Graysen disappeared out of the room and down a long hallway. This was definitely not how she'd imagined things would go down. She'd thought he might treat her like a whore because in truth, her outfit was definitely too sexy for daytime office wear.
She'd worried he might come on to her, or ask weird questions she wouldn't know how to answer. She stood and walked over to the window to gaze down at the city. The view was pretty terrifying.
A few minutes later he returned. Shannon turned from the window. “I guess you're not afraid of heights.”
He chuckled. “I base jump. So, no. Not afraid of heights. Here's your receipt. Your account is open and ready for use. There are no daily spending limits but our security system will keep an eye on transactions, so if they start breaking whatever pattern you establish we might call Dr. Smith to confirm everything is in order. If you lose either card, just give us a call and we'll take care of it.”