5. Deanna
DEANNA
David Sorensen shakes my hand, adjusts his glasses, and gives Prime a drunken smile. “I’ll be in touch, but this—“ He strokes the fancy portfolio I gave him with all the most recent numbers and projections. “This is very impressive.”
“I’m glad you like it.” Prime drapes an arm across David’s shoulders.
David is a slight man, short hair, thin-rimmed lenses, in his early forties with a very serious, no-nonsense reputation.
It’s strange, seeing him a bit glassy eyed and playing grab-ass with my dickweed boss. “Quite the sight, right?”
Prime’s eyes lock on me as he says it.
Heat flushes my cheeks as David thanks him again. The pair stumble toward the waiting Uber. David disappears into the evening, Prime patting the roof of the car happily, waving as it rolls down the narrow Philly street.
“I just saved your ass,” I say as Prime saunters over. He seems miraculously sober, considering the amount of alcohol I watched him and David consume. “I want to be clear about that.”
He glances at his watch and back at me. “Huh, interesting. It’s after midnight and you haven’t turned into a pumpkin.”
“The carriage turns into the pumpkin, jerkoff.”
“Come on, princess. Let’s go celebrate.”
I get out my phone and start summoning a car. “I really can’t, you know that. I should get back home. It’s only my mom and dad back there.”
“The old farts will be fine for a while. Come on, Deanna, have you ever closed on a massive business deal like that before?”
I hesitate, thumb hanging over the order button. He’s got a point there. This Sorensen thing is the first time Prime’s actually let me approach an investor almost entirely on my own.
When I showed up a couple hours ago, David and Prime were having a great time, but I could tell there was a slight strain between them.
I quickly realized David kept trying to talk shop and Prime kept steering him away, and the second I entered into the conversation it was like spraying oil on a rusty hinge. Everything began to work.
Prime entertained. He was charming and funny. While I kept to the numbers. We worked Sorensen from both angles until he all but signed on the dotted line.
“It could still fall apart,” I point out, still not hitting the button.
“But we both know it won’t. Come on, princess. One drink with your handsome boss. Don’t make me order you.”
“Only since you’re buying.” I shove my phone back into my bag, aware that this is a huge mistake. But Prime’s right, this is a good time to celebrate, and I’m still young, right? It’s not the worst thing in the world to sit down with a coworker. People do that sort of thing all the time.
Prime strolls toward a smaller spot a block down, complimenting me the whole way, going on and on about how impressed he was, how I managed all Sorensen’s questions with ease and even preempted several of his objections and worried with hard facts and solid data.
“I swear, when you showed him that price per square foot spreadsheet, my dick was like iron.”
“Please, can we not talk about your dick?”
“Probably, but that’s not fun.”
We step into a dim, much quieter pub, and find two chairs at the far end of the bar. I get wine and he gets bourbon. When our drinks arrive, he holds up his glass.
“To my princess, my assistant, the rock upon which I stand?—“
“Not too far,” I warn, sensing he’s about to cross a line. “That was nice. Don’t make it awful.”
“Cheers.”
We lapse into a comfortable silence, which is unusual with Prime, since mostly he fills any gap in conversation with his favorite sound, which is his own voice.
But maybe I’m being too hard on him. Most of the time I see Prime as a shallow, frustrating, overly flirty meathead, and he’s still all of those things, but I caught a glimpse of what makes him successful.
He was funny and made Sorensen the center of his universe.
Prime’s attention is like a spotlight, like warm sunshine on a cool afternoon.
It’s addicting the way he can treat a person like they’re the most interesting human in the entire world, and he turned the full power of his charm on tonight.
And it made me think. Business relationships are about money and numbers at their core.
Why bother otherwise? But also, nobody wants to be linked to someone they actively despise and don’t want to be around.
For a certain type of person, say a man who already has plenty of investments like David Sorensen, the quality of their partners is as important as the quality of their future return, at least to some extent.
Business relationships are also personal too, or they can be, and that’s why we made such a good team.
“I’ve been thinking,” Prime says, looking at his glass. He sips and I recall the way he kissed me that night. I push back against the idea.
“That’s a new one.”
He ignores my barb. “You’ve done good work lately, and I don’t remember the last time I gave you a raise. Are you satisfied with your salary?”
“Honestly? You pay me really well, but more money is always good.” I shift in my seat, pulse beating between my legs. “Why are you bringing this up now?”
“I want to make sure you’re happy, that’s all.
I want to make sure I’m taking care of you.
” He looks up from his bourbon and his expression is dark and tinged with hunger, like a pale shadow of his hooded, thirsty need from that night.
It sends a shiver of recognition into my core and I unconsciously spread my knees.
“You’re not… doing this because of… you know.” I stammer awkwardly, not sure why I’m even mentioning it. Obviously this is about the deal we just closed! Except a part of me can’t let go of the suspicion that everything goes back to that night.
Prime grips his glass tight. “What are you talking about?”
“I’m just saying, we haven’t even mentioned that night, and now you’re offering to give me more money? Like you’re trying to keep me happy… and quiet.”
I think I finally crossed a line for a brief moment. He seems hurt. It’s an expression I’ve never seen on Prime’s face. But he quickly wipes it away, laughing to himself as he takes another sip.
“That’s deeply fucked up, Deanna. I’m insulted you think so little of me.”
“I shouldn’t have?—“
“It’s fine.” He holds up a hand to stop my excuses. “You have every right to wonder.”
I roll my wine uneasily. “So is that what this is about?”
“No. It isn’t.” He faces me, oozing attractive charming. “I don’t regret what we did, but we were two consenting adults indulging in each other and nothing more.”
“Right. Nothing more.” Indulging in each other sends a thrill of desire down my spine. I have to resist that feeling. I don’t care how appealing I find Prime—he’s not my type and never, ever will be.
“This is about your performance tonight, but it’s also about… something else.” He clears his throat and hunches as he gestures for another drink.
“Something else?” I prod, but he doesn’t answer until he’s got a fresh bourbon in his hand.
“I need your help. Call it a second job. Something I can’t ask anyone else to do for me.
You’re the most organized and serious person I’ve ever met, and I wouldn’t trust another living soul with this task.
I’ll double your salary for the time it takes to get it done, and once it’s finished, I’ll continue to pay you twenty percent more than you’re making now. ”
I almost gag on my wine. Double my salary?! Even for a few months, that could change my life. I’d be able to hire more help, afford better groceries, buy my dad clothes that actually fit, hell I could even put some away in savings?—
But I force myself to calm down. God knows I need it, but warning lights are flashing all over. If Prime’s offering this much, whatever job he’s got for me won’t be easy.
“I’m interested,” I say as carefully as I can while my heart hammers into my throat. “What do you need me to do?”
“You won’t believe it.”
“Don’t tell me it’s illegal? I’m not breaking any laws for you.”
“No, nothing like that.” A smile plays at his lips like I made some sort of hilarious joke. “I’m being serious, alright? This isn’t a game.”
“Okay, just tell me.”
He turns so his knees are touching mine.
“Deanna… I need you to find me a wife.”
I gape at him.
This has to be a trick, but he looks about as serious as Prime ever does.
“You want… a wife?!”
“Calm down. I don’t want to marry you. I just need you to find me a woman willing to play the role of my lawfully wedded partner.
There will be money for her, a comfortable lifestyle, whatever she wants really, so long as she understands it’s only business.
” He frowns, touching his thumb to his lips.
“Although I’m open to other physical arrangements. ”
“Prime!”
He shrugs, amused eyes meeting mine and holding me there. Prime wants a wife? A woman he’ll pay? In money… and maybe in something else…
“Can you help me?”
“This is bizarre. Why in the world do you need to marry someone?”
“I’ll tell you more, but trust me for now. I’m not messing with you. I’m not kidding around. I need a wife, and I think you’re the perfect woman to find her. Help me, Deanna.”
Ah, shit.
God damn Prime. This is the craziest thing he’s ever asked me to do, but it’s too tempting, and I can sense the slightest bit of vulnerability.
Besides, I need the money badly, and it’s not like I’m the one who will walk down the aisle with him, right?
“You’re a psychopath.”
“I’ve been tested. It was inconclusive.”
I hold out my hand. “Double my salary forever. So long as I’m your assistant.”
He considers for only a second before shaking. “You have a deal.”
I almost moan at the thought. Double! Forever! This is going to change my life. It’s going to make my father’s illness so much more manageable.
And all I have to do is find the city’s most notorious asshole playboy a woman willing to be his fake wife.
Should be easy money.