Chapter Seven
Cassius
Five grand would do me good. It would get Chrissy her meds, but it’s only a band aid.
That’ll last about a month? Then we will be right back where we were.
Besides, we have no idea how long this insurance thing is going to be a problem for, so it’s possible I’ll have to get Chrissy’s meds next month too.
I need to be smart about this, but it feels weird. No, not weird, unreal. How can this man be willing to pay so much to pet me? He has to want something more. There has to be some hidden thing, right?
I sigh, running my hand through my hair. His gaze goes to it, staring at the messy mop on my head long after my hand is back at my side.
“Mr. Stone—”
“Harmon,” he says, his gaze going to mine. “I’d prefer it if you called me Harmon.”
“Okay… Harmon.” I clear my throat. “I appreciate your generosity, and even though five grand right this moment would help me out a lot, this isn’t just about the money for me.”
I am getting way too good at lying. It’s starting to make me sick.
“It’s not?”
“I mean, the money is a big deal. It’s going to help more than you can imagine. I’m sure you have no idea what it’s like to struggle, but it’s what I do every day, and this is… it’s a huge weight off my shoulders. But it’s more than that, too.”
He leans forward, clasping his hands together, his gaze going darker.
“Explain.”
“I guess I’m… curious.” Okay, that is not a lie.
I am curious. He is hot as hell. And though he says sex is off the table, a lot of these things are sex-aligned.
“I didn’t think I would be into any of this stuff.
” I gesture to the packet of papers. “But after reading through it, well, I want to know more. I want to experience this. You said it’s like therapy?
Well, maybe it could be that for me too. ”
“That is one of the best perks of it, I’ll admit.”
I nod in agreement.
“Tell me,” he says, getting to his feet but leaning his hip against the table. He looks like a giant in this position. Powerful. Towering above me as a man in charge and knowing what he wants. It’s kind of hot. “Do you take care of others in your personal life?”
“Yes, my—”
He holds his hand up and I stop speaking. “I’m not saying you can’t talk to me about your personal life, but I have found it better that we don’t get too personal. With that said, I’d like to know about your life and your days, as I think it helps build trust between us.”
“Right, okay…” I think I know what he means. Get personal but not too personal? I guess? “Well, I take care of my two sisters.”
“I assume they’re younger?”
“Yes.”
“That must be a big stresser for you.” He pushes off the table and comes around behind me.
“Yeah, it is. It’s, uh… very stressful.”
His hands land on my shoulders. “Is this okay?”
“Yes,” I say quickly.
“Keep talking,” he says as he starts to massage me, pushing his fingers into my muscles.
I think I’m drooling. My head is fuzzy. And my dick is aching.
“Our mom isn’t helpful. So, I, uh… well, my youngest sister is still in school and has epilepsy. My other sister graduated already and works, so basically she and I pay the bills and stuff.”
He continues to massage me, his fingers moving closer to my neck and digging into the base of it.
“I can see you carry a lot of your stress here.” His fingers move up my neck and rub at the base of my skull.
“Yeah, sure… if you say so.”
His fingers work upwards until he’s massaging my head, his fingers spearing through my hair, then raking it back like he’s brushing it.
“You have very soft hair. I like running my fingers through it.”
“Don’t do anything special to it,” I say.
My eyes have been closed for a long time, and I think I could fall asleep like this. But then his fingers are gone, and he’s in front of me again. I blink lazily at him.
“Just a taste of the praise I’ll give you for listening.” He points to the paper in front of me. “Finish filling it out.”
I go through the rest of it, answering questions about things that don’t quite make sense since he said there isn’t sex involved, but he did mention that he likes to watch in the club, so I’m assuming this has something to do with that.
There are sexual questions asked, like if I’d be okay using butt plugs, anal beads, nipple clamps, and sleeves.
Just thinking about it has my dick hard. I hardly get time to myself anymore. Sharing a room with two girls, my sisters, isn’t good for my dick. And the walls are paper thin so jerking off in the shower isn’t great either.
Going to Abe’s house was the easiest way to get off. Maybe I’ll make a stop there when I leave here…
When I flip the page after answering questions about my size for a uniform, I see information on a schedule. I circle everything, because I’m available whenever he needs me.
“Question…”
“Yes?” he says, giving me his attention.
“I understand if you don’t want to give me your address before I sign whatever needs to be signed, but are there like… bus stops nearby?”
His brow rises. “You don’t have a car?”
“No…”
“Do you have a license?”
“Yes.”
“I’ll provide you with a car.”
“You’ll what?” I gasp.
“It’s no problem. I have a few you can choose from, actually. One moment.” He clicks a few things on his phone.
“Wait, hold on—” He stops what he’s doing and looks at me. “You have cars to spare?”
“They aren’t mine, exactly, but there are plenty of cars here that the company uses for one reason or another. I’m happy to let you use one, and for no extra charge. I will have to add you to the insurance though, as you aren’t an employee here, so I will need a few more details…”
I know I’m staring at him like a complete idiot, but who has cars lying around all willy nilly for someone to use?
With a sigh and a soft smile, he says, “I understand this is difficult for you to grasp, but I assure you, it’s no problem.
” He holds his phone up. “Oliver says we have a Mercedes S-Class, BMW 7 Series, Audi A8, and a Range Rover Autobiography. That one must be new, because I don’t recall it. I’m sure it’s—”
“I live in a trailer park,” I blurt out.
He blinks at me, looking confused.
“Should that matter to me?” he asks.
Silence falls between us before I blurt out, “What if someone breaks into it?”
“That’s what insurance is for.”
“What if someone steals it?”
“Again, that’s what insurance is for.”
“I…” I groan, hiding my face in my hands. BMW? Range Rover? Audi? Mercedes?!
“You can say no to the car. I was only trying to help.”
I take a few deep breaths before dropping my hands. “I’m sorry, this is just a shock. I wasn’t expecting to get so much…”
“I understand.”
“It feels like a lot.”
“I assure you it’s not. It truly is no problem at all. They usually sit here unused. I doubt they have many miles on them. I’d rather them be put to use…”
“Okay, fine. I’ll take whichever one. It doesn’t matter.”
He types on his phone, then puts it down. It dings a moment later. “Oliver will have the keys waiting for you in the front. I chose the Range Rover, I hope that’s okay. I figured it’s spacious and will be helpful to you and your family.”
This man is… too nice. Way too nice. I don’t understand it. People aren’t nice for no reason. He has to be a serial killer.
How can he be this nice and not have a husband or wife or whatever he wants?
He said he wasn’t into dating or relationships, but is that only because of work?
Plenty of busy people have personal lives.
He’s been nothing but nice and understanding to me today, and for no reason, because I’ve been acting like a spazz. Someone deserves this man’s kindness.
I think I’ll be okay to do what he needs. And I don’t need to do it forever. We can feel things out and see how it goes. If it only works out for a couple of months, well that’s still tens of thousands of dollars I’ve made. In a month I can have a whole new life for me and my sisters.
I want to cry.
But I’ll save that for when I leave. I don’t need him thinking I’m some kind of freak who can’t keep his emotions together. He said to keep the emotional stuff away. This is transactional, not intimacy.
Simple enough.
I grab the bottle of iced tea that is condensating all over the table, twist the cap off, and take a sip, then a few more.
“This is good,” I say, looking at the label. “I’ve never had this brand before.”
“I hear good things about it.”
“Thank you for this opportunity,” I say as I cap my drink. “It means a lot to me.”
“Thank you for your openness and willingness to give this a shot.”
I go back to the papers to finish filling everything out. When I’m done, he takes it and flips through the pages, eyeing everything carefully. His expression doesn’t change, so I can’t tell what he’s thinking.
Did I fill out something wrong? Did I do it all right? What is he thinking?
“Your availability is completely open?” is the first question he asks, darting his eyes to me. “You have no other responsibilities?”
“Nothing that I can’t work around whatever schedule you need me for.”
He nods, then goes back to the papers. When he’s done, he places it into the folder and closes it.
“I thought there was another NDA?”
“That comes later. How do you feel about starting on Monday?”
It’s Thursday. I feel absolutely fine about starting on Monday, the only problem with that is I may not get paid until the following week, and we won’t have enough money for Chrissy’s meds. That leaves her for a while without them. But I’ll have to figure that out…
“Monday is good.”
“Considering I am here most of the day during the week, your schedule will be in the evenings during the week and the morning and afternoon on the weekends. Is this okay?”
“Yes.”
“I can give you Sundays and Fridays off, this way you don’t have to worry about getting home late and waking up early in the morning on Saturday, and I’m usually exhausted by Friday anyway. Plus, it’ll give you the day to shop or pay bills. Whatever you need to do with your check.”
“That sounds great.”
“I will need your bank account information for—”
“I don’t have a bank account.”
He eyes me carefully.
“Any particular reason why?”
My face heats. “I’ve never had enough money for it to stay open.”
He nods as if he understands, though I know he doesn’t. There is no way he understands the way I struggle.
“I will remedy that.” He types something into his phone again. “As for clothing. I will get the uniform required, but I would like you to show up dressed nicely. Think business casual. You can change into the uniform when you get to my place.”
“Uh, sure. I can totally do that, but it will have to wait until after I get my first payment…”
He nods, typing something into his phone again.
“I will also take care of that.” He sounds distracted, then gets up from his seat.
“I’m sorry to rush out, but apparently there is another fire that only I can put out.
I will walk you out, and Oliver will have everything you need.
Call me if you have any questions. Texting is fine too. ”
“Oh, okay. Sure.”
I grab my drink and get up to follow him out of the room and down the hall. He’s walking fast, and I take the opportunity to check him out. What? I’m only human!
His legs are thick and his ass is nice. It looks like he focuses on leg day.
It’s hard to tell what’s going on with his upper half beneath the layers, but I’m sure his whole body is hot as hell.
He’s a man who cares about his looks. He probably drinks protein shakes for breakfast and has salads for lunch.
When we reach the reception area, Harmon turns to me and says, “Again, I am so sorry to rush out. We will be in touch some time tomorrow.” And with that, he leaves me standing there.
Oliver looks up at me from behind his cluttered desk, giving me a smile.
“I have a goody bag for you.”
“A goody bag?” I question.
He smiles and starts to pull things out of the gift bag.
“Keys for the Rover. A cell phone.”
“Cell phone?”
Oliver looks at me, brow pinched. “He said you needed one.”
“And you just have them lying around?”
“This is a large company. We get new employees all the time.”
“So, this is a business phone?”
“Well, yes and no. It was bought to be used as one for the business, but when I set it up, I put that it was personal. They will need you to call and put your address on file though.” He goes back to dig in the bag. “Here is the paperwork for your bank account.”
“What? How did you—”
“You will have to go down there, of course, and give copies of your license and whatever other paperwork they need—best to call and ask first—but it is all set and ready for transactions. A check for two grand. Oh, and this is the business card for Stewart’s.
It’s one of Mr. Stone’s favorite clothing stores. ”
“Check for two grand?” I squeal, pulling it from his hand to look at it closer. “What is this for?”
“I assume a sign-on bonus? Use it to buy some new clothes. That’s what I did.”
I gape at him, then back at the check.
“Am I in the Twilight Zone?”
“Mr. Stone is a very generous boss. He’s kind to all of his employees. You made the right choice coming here.”
He offers me the small bag. There is a logo on both sides, not quite black but a dark grey.
It looks like the hands on a watch, forming the letter T.
It’s clean and polished. Beneath it in a sans serif font is STONE TIMEWORKS.
It’s modern and expensive-looking, though I didn’t need a logo to figure that out. Just look at this place.
“Thank you,” I mutter.
“Do you need me to walk you down or can you find the garage yourself?”
“I think I can manage.”
“You can take the elevator on the left all the way down to the garage. Once you get into the lot, turn left and that’s where the cars are parked. Have a wonderful day, Mr. Carr.”
“You too. Thanks.”
In a daze, I make my way to the elevator and go down to the garage. Once I’m in it, I click the button for the car, and the lights flash, telling me which one it is.
When I get in, I break down completely.
How the hell is this real?