“Of course. Filing some paperwork, helping the boss stay organized. No funny business. You’re just here to work.” Ryder takes his hand off the wheel to lay it on his heart, then puts three fingers up in the air. “Scout’s honor.”
The car veers a bit, and I grip the dashboard for dear life.
“Any way you can put your ‘scout’s honor’ on getting us to the office without crashing the car?”
Ryder returns his grip to the wheel, and my blood pressure returns to normal. “We’re not gonna crash,” he says as he makes one last sharp turn down what looks more like an extra-long residential driveway than an office entrance. “Besides, we’re already here.”
As we cruise down the driveway, an enormous white stucco-and-glass home emerges from behind the sycamore trees. Ryder swings the car into a miniature parking lot off to the side of the house, parking next to a small collection of luxury cars.
“Quite the office,” I say in a hushed voice, taking in the gorgeous landscaping.
“The office is the entire first floor. Otherwise, it’s the boss’s house.” Ryder unbuckles his seat belt and hops out.
“More like the boss’s mansion,” I mutter, following Ryder’s lead out of the car and up the limestone walkway. I’m wobbling a bit in my black heels but keep my chin high, repeating my brother’s promise over and over in my head. No funny business. You’re just here to work.
Ryder punches in a pass code at the door, and with a whir and a click, we’re in. “It’s 1022,” he says over his shoulder. “Case’s mom’s birthday. But I’ll pretty much always be here with you, so you probably don’t have to memorize the code.”
I smile, knowing that I’ll commit it to memory anyway. I’m not one to let the details slide.
My heels clack along the white marble floor as I follow closely behind Ryder, avoiding eye contact as he greets a tall, toned man who walks by, and then another and another.
“Do I need to know them?” I whisper.
Ryder laughs. “Not if you don’t want to. They’re just the other escorts. The only one you really need to know is Case.”
Past the kitchen and then a conference room, Ryder leads us to a big wooden door and knocks twice. A low, gravelly voice comes from the other side, telling us to come in. And we do.
“Hey, Case, this is Sienna. Sienna, this is the big man, Case.”
I step out of Ryder’s shadow and lock eyes with Case’s ultra-serious stare. Big is the correct adjective to describe this man. He’s sitting so I can’t properly gauge his height, but he’s got to be six and half feet tall. Dressed in jeans and a white T-shirt that his biceps are trying to escape from, he makes me feel overdressed. His coffee-colored hair is short and neat, just like the scruff hugging the angle of his jaw.
He’s handsome, there’s no denying it. I guess his profession suits him. But it’s the stare that catches me the most off guard. So serious and unwavering. His hands are folded neatly on his wooden writing desk next to an overwhelming stack of paperwork, which I can only assume will become my responsibility.
“Sienna. Welcome.”
Welcome? That’s it? Not a “nice to meet you” or anything? I pause, expecting him to stand up, shake my hand or something, but he doesn’t move an inch. Neither does his stare, which is pointed at me with laser-like intensity.
“Happy to be here,” I say quickly to fill the silence, although I’m not sure that I mean it. In this moment, I’d rather be anywhere but here. My insides feel like they’ve been twisted with a fork.
“There’s a lot for you to do,” he says, nodding towards the paperwork without letting his stare falter. As his attention turns from me to my brother, he relaxes a bit, his tone going from aggressive to friendly. “Ryder, have you checked your email? There’s a client for you today. One of your regulars from across town, I think.”
Ryder pulls out his cell and nods, scrolling through his in-box. “Shit, this is in like an hour. I gotta head out.” He glances up at me. “You all good here? I gotta bounce.”
“She’s fine,” Case says sharply. “I’ll get her set up. You go ahead.”
I want to beg Ryder not to leave me just yet, but he’s the reason I’m getting a paycheck, so I can’t stand in the way of him getting his. “Just don’t forget you’re my ride home, okay?”
Ryder nods. “Of course. I’ll for sure be back before the end of the day. Later, guys.”
“Later,” Case says, the last bit of his casualness fading with Ryder’s exit. His eyes move back into that intense stare as he turns back to me. “I guess we should get you started,” he says flatly, as if giving me work is a chore for him.
How can he be so friendly with my brother and so icy with me?
Case gets up from his desk, revealing a well-fitted pair of jeans that encase one of the nicest backsides I’ve ever seen on a man. He’s just as tall as I expected. Well over six feet, for sure, which ups the intimidation factor.
Scooping up the pile of paperwork, Case struts over to a smaller desk on the other side of the room. “You’ll work here,” he says matter-of-factly and plops the paperwork on the desk, sending a few pages flying off the stack. “And this will be your first project. Digitizing these old client files. There’s a laptop in the drawer you can use to type them into a spreadsheet. Your brother says you’re smart, so I’m guessing you can figure it out.”
In a matter of moments, he returns to his desk and is right back to work. And back to ignoring me.
Nice to meet you too. I take my place at my new desk. As the laptop boots up, I pick up the file folders and flip through the paperwork he’s given me. Guess it’s time to get to work. Only, I can’t focus.
For some strange reason, I’m hyperaware of this man sitting just feet from me. Shouldn’t we talk? Discuss our goals? What we each want to get out of my employment here?
The longer I sit here inputting customer files, the more agitated I become. I mean, seriously, the guy couldn’t even take two seconds out of his day to properly train me? I don’t even know where the freaking bathroom is. I have no idea what I’m supposed to do for lunch.
After I’ve input the twelfth customer file, I pause and take a deep breath. I can feel Case’s presence looming like a shadow across the room.
“So . . .” I pause, my attempt at small talk already crashing and burning. “You sleep with women for a living.”
Shit. Real smooth, Sienna.
Case doesn’t even look up from his computer screen, clearly not thrown by my question. “Sometimes,” he says, his deep voice rumbling.
Sometimes? What the hell is that supposed to mean? Isn’t that his job?
“How long have you been doing this?”
He thinks about it for a second, still not looking at me. “Eight years, give or take.”
“Do you have a girlfriend?”
“No girlfriend.”
“Have you ever been in a serious relationship?”
Something like wounded pride or anger flashes through his dark gaze as it briefly meets mine; I’m not sure which. “Not answering that.”
Case doesn’t want to talk, that much is obvious, but I’m on a roll now.