The Two Week Arrangement (Penthouse Affair, #1) novel Chapter 14

Presley

Poking her brush at the paper, Bianca mutters, “This looks like ass.”

I glance at her perfectly decent watercolor landscape. “Hey, you’re doing better than me. My trees clearly have some kind of disease.”

She’s always been the more artistic one. It was her idea to spend our lazy Saturday afternoon sipping cheap wine at a nearby painting studio that offers classes. Not that I objected—after the week I’ve had, the instructor’s hypnotically calm voice is more than welcome, and the act of painting is also soothing, despite how much I suck at it. Plus, Bianca’s mother bought her a gift card here last Christmas, and so this little excursion doesn’t hurt my pocketbook.

We mix and dab in comfortable silence for a while before Bianca asks, “So how’d your first week at the new job go?”

I hesitate, the tip of my brush hovering over a lumpy cloud. “Actually . . . something weird happened last night.”

“Why were you working so late? I thought you were going out for a drink.”

“I wasn’t working. Well, I sort of was, just not at work.”

“You can start making sense whenever, y’know.” Her brush drips paint on the carpet, but no one seems to notice.

I take a deep breath. “I saw Dominic at the bar, and he said . . . he needed somebody to go to a business dinner with him. The person he invited ditched him.” I probably don’t need to mention the detail about how he hires women for sex. “He offered me five-hundred dollars, so I went.”

Now it’s Bianca’s turn to pause. She stares at her painting, her brow furrowing deeper and deeper, then she looks at me. “Your boss paid you to be his date.” Her tone is dead flat.

I pause to listen to the instructor’s next instructions before replying. “O-okay, I get how that sounds bad, but it wasn’t really a date, per se, he just—”

“Asked you to dinner?” she says icily.

“It’s not like we were alone together. There was an investor—the point of everything was to try to impress him. Strictly business. I would have done it for free, the money was just because it was such short notice.”

She purses her lips, then makes a low, grudging noise. “Well . . . as long as this isn’t some gross sexual harassment thing, I guess I don’t have to kill him.”

“I’m pretty sure it’s not.” No matter how much I sometimes wish it were, except there’s nothing gross about Dominic Aspen. “Anyway, I think it went well. The investor seemed happy. I hope it was enough to convince him that Aspen is a worthwhile bet.”

“Great, but I’m still skeptical about whether this was the best idea,” Bianca says.

“I know it’s . . . unorthodox. But I figured, hey, I can make a little extra money for Michael’s school stuff, learn more about business, and get extra access to the CEO. I’m competing with three other highly qualified interns, so why not take advantage of a chance to push ahead?”

“Those are all good points.” Bianca smirks. “And I’m sure that you having the hots for Dominic has nothing to do with your decision.”

I almost knock over my cup of paint water. “W-what? Of course it didn’t.” Then I realize what I just admitted to. “I mean, I don’t.”

“Bullshit, honey, you talk about him nonstop. And now you’re gunning for—how did you put it—extra access?” She bounces her eyebrows.

“Please shut up,” I say on a groan.

But she plows ahead with her teasing anyway. “I guess I should be glad you’re dating. I think you’d be more relaxed about work and money if you got laid once in a while.”

“I told you it wasn’t dating, and nobody is getting laid!”

As she cackles at my pain, my phone rescues me with a chime. It’s a text from Austin.

Hey, I’ve been thinking about you. Still want to get drinks soon?