Fiancé for Hire, page 2
“Aunt Vi, I assumed you were joking. Since you’re not, you need to find someone else. I’m not interested. I’m not some piece of meat that you can put on display, or some man-candy for you to distribute to women.”
“Oh, hush,” she said, chuckling. “I know you’re a catch, which is why you’ll be perfect for this young lady. She’s a few years older than you, but—”
“No,” he said, growing less interested by the minute.
When his aunt had left him a message saying that she needed him to come by the office as soon as possible, he had no idea what to expect. She’d sounded a bit ominous, and on his way there, Drevon had tried calling her cell phone numerous times. The calls had gone straight to voicemail.
Now he knew why.
She wanted to blindside him with this request.
He shook his head. “No way. I’m not letting you pimp me out.”
His aunt and uncle were the CEO and CFO, respectively, of At Your Service, but this was the first time she had tried anything like this.
“Sweetie, it’s not like that. This month we have been slammed with requests for escorts. That is a good thing, but it’s put us in a bind.”
Sighing, she reminded him that successful women were struggling to find men to meet their various needs, such as doing repairs around the house. She saw more of a need when it came to those same women needing a companion for an event or two—which was the case in this situation.
After being successful in matching a few family members, Viola realized she could make a living at doing something that she was a natural in—matchmaking. She was good at pairing women to the company’s escorts. To her credit, his aunt had a ton of success matching her siblings and some of her in-laws—and now perfect strangers.
“I honestly don’t have anyone available at the moment who fits her requirements—except for you. Since you’re in town and taking time off, I thought you’d be perfect for this assignment. You’ve already been vetted. So if you’ll agree, I’ll be able to go ahead and match the two of you.”
The organization was a single woman’s dream. It usually had a man for anything a woman could possibly need, but technically Drevon hadn’t signed on to be one of his aunt’s men. She had roped him into completing the online profile supposedly to test out the company’s software. Drevon assumed she had deleted the information, but apparently not.
Not only had she not deleted it, but it sounded like she had updated it.
“Let’s go to my office. You can meet the woman face-to-face,” his aunt continued. “She’s beautiful, successful, well-connected, and this is the first time that she’s using our services. I couldn’t tell her we didn’t have anyone for her.”
“Fine, I’ll tell her.” Drevon started for the door, but his aunt stopped him with a hand on his arm.
“You will do no such thing.”
“Aunt Vi, I would normally be willing to help you out, but now is not a good time. I came back to Atlanta to regroup. Not to be someone’s paid escort.”
“It wouldn’t be like that. She mainly needs a friend—a male friend who can attend a few events with her, and that’s all. Trust me when I tell you she’s amazing. She’s not the type of woman you usually date. This woman is not only beautiful, but she’s smart, carries herself like a lady, and she has a successful career.”
Drevon chuckled under his breath. He knew there was a dig somewhere in that statement about his dating life, but he didn’t take it personally.
Yes, he’d dated his share of gorgeous yet shallow women. It wasn’t always by choice, but he couldn’t help that those were the types of women who threw themselves at him. And since he hadn’t been looking for anything serious, just a good time, he usually played along.
That was his other reason for taking time off and returning home.
He needed a break—time to evaluate his life and determine whether he was on the right track with his future goals. Mainly, he needed to make some changes in his life.
Specifically, his personal life.
“Aunt Vi, I—”
“Come on, Dre. Don’t say no. I know Kendall did a number on you, but this is your chance to forget about her and have a little fun.”
Drevon gritted his teeth at the mention of his ex. His chest heaved just thinking about Kendall Monroe, an award-winning actress he’d dated for months.
Heat spread through his body as a sudden bout of anger simmered in his chest. Her antics, lies, and blatant disrespect toward him could’ve cost him everything, including his freedom. He would never forgive her.
“I’ve never asked you for a favor before,” his aunt said, “but I need your help on this one.”
Drevon released a long breath and was slow to speak as he struggled to reel in his frustration. There wasn’t much he wouldn’t do for his aunt, but this…
“Why me? Why do you need me to escort this woman? I’m trying to lay low, especially after that mess with Kendall.”
“Honey, I understand,” she said, patting his arm. “But what better way to get over one woman than by helping another one out? Especially one who only wants you for a couple of events.”
Drevon sighed. He couldn’t believe that he was considering doing this.
He glanced down at his attire. He was wearing a designer black-and-white printed zip-placket polo with black walking shorts patterned identically to the shirt. The silver jewelry around his neck and wrist, along with black boat shoes, set off the outfit.
Though the ensemble could be considered casual-dressy to some, he wasn’t dressed to meet a potential client.
“You look perfect,” his aunt said as if reading his mind. She stood and nodded toward the door. “Come on. I’ll introduce you.”
Drevon grumbled under his breath. “Let me make a quick phone call, and I’ll be there shortly.”
Viola narrowed her eyes. “Don’t even think about sneaking out of here, because I’ll find you.” With that she left, closing the door behind her.
What the hell was he doing?
Had his life really come to this—a paid escort?
Chapter Three
Antika paced the length of Mrs. Ross’s office, an average-sized space that was beautifully decorated. With the calming gray wall color, and the comfortable looking sofa and reading chair in the far corner, Antika should’ve been soaking up the peacefulness of the space.
Instead, she couldn’t stop asking herself: What the hell was I thinking signing up for At Your Service?
She huffed out a weary breath and shook her head. Her footsteps might’ve been quiet against the plush carpet, but her heart was pounding loud enough to be heard down the hall. She wasn’t a hasty person. Hell, she overthought everything in her life—but she had been too quick to jump on the idea of hiring a man to be her date.
I’m paying someone to go out with me.
“How pathetic is that?” she mumbled, then growled aloud into the quietness of the room.
She had completed the questionnaire the night before, and it had been a simple process. The questions centered around basic details like her age, height, gender preference, annual income, and level of education.
The last part of the questionnaire contained questions that made her think long and hard before responding. They delved deeper into her personality, asking questions that she never thought about, such as: How did you handle your last failure? What is your first memory of yourself as a child? What would your last meal be?
She assumed the responses would determine who in their database might be compatible with her. But the unfortunate thing about her responses to the questions was, if she was asked the same questions on a different day, her answers would probably be different. They were subjective questions about her feelings on a topic, or her attitude regarding a subject.
Despite all the time it took to complete the questionnaire, Antika was having second thoughts about it all.
“I can’t do it. I can’t go through with it,” she admitted to herself, then moved to the sofa where’d she’d been sitting, and grabbed her handbag.
Unfortunately, she’d always been one of those people who cared what others thought of her. What would people think if they found out that she hired someone to be her plus-one?
Yet, here she was, hiring a man to escort her to a few events. All because she didn’t want family, friends, and her stupid ex-boyfriend—Edward—to think that she was too pathetic to get a date.
“So much for living on my own terms,” she murmured.
Before Antika could leave the office, the door flew open, startling her.
“I am so sorry for the delay,” Mrs. Ross said as she blew into the room and moved around to the other side of her desk. “Please forgive me. I needed to handle a situation that couldn’t wait. Now, where were we?”
“Actually, I changed my mind,” Antika said as she slipped her purse strap onto her shoulder. “I’m sorry for any inconvenience this might cause, but I no longer need your services.”
“Oh, there you are,” Mrs. Ross interrupted while glancing around Antika.
Antika turned to find a tall, handsome man standing in the doorway. He was all matchy-matchy in an ugly outfit, but it looked as if it had been tailored specifically for his physique. Considering how well-groomed and put together he was, he looked as if he had just finished a photo shoot for a men’s fashion magazine.
She hoped this wasn’t the guy Mrs. Ross was trying to set her up with. He was good-looking with skin the color of honey, and a five o’clock shadow covering his cheeks and chin. Actually, he looked familiar, but he was everything she didn’t want in a man. Preppy. Tidy. A slave to fashion, and he was too damn pretty.
Antika preferred her men thick, dark, and rugged. This guy might’ve been a little muscular, but he was too nerdy-looking for her. Well, maybe not nerdy. He did kind of give off Drake—the singer—vibes with his swag, dark eyes, and facial hair. Still, he was too…polished.
Nope. Not my type.
He did have one thing going for him—he was tall. At five-eleven in her bare feet, she preferred men who were at least six-three or taller, and this guy fit the bill.
But that was it.
“He’s not my type,” Antika blurted before she could pull the words back.
“What the hell?” the man barked, and a shiver skittered over Annika’s skin.
Good Lord. That voice.
That deep, sexy, make-you-want-to-drop-your-panties voice surged through her, sending shock waves to every nerve in her body.
Mentally, Antika shook herself. I’m not interested. I’m not interested.
So what if his voice should be used to read sex scenes aloud in every romance novel…
It didn’t matter.
She wasn’t interested.
At least that’s what she kept telling herself.
“I’m sorry, but you’re not what I asked for,” Antika continued and waved her hand up and down, gesturing at his body. “You’re tall, but that’s it. Nothing else matches my criteria.”
“Well, excuse the hell out of me, lady. Do you know who I am?” he asked, his voice going even deeper as he scowled at her.
Mrs. Ross leaped from her chair and moved around to the front of the desk. “Ms. Wilcox,” she said, her tone soothing. “May I call you Antika?”
Antika nodded, wondering again why she had let Tamera talk her into this foolishness. No—it was actually because of Edward. Antika had let his silly words get to her. So this was all on her.
“I know Drevon might not be exactly what you requested, but I assure you that he is perfect for you,” Mrs. Ross said, then raised her hands in a placating gesture. “I mean, he’s the perfect escort for what you’re looking for. Trust me, dear. The men that work with our agency are the most eligible bachelors in Atlanta; perhaps in the entire country. In addition to that, I’ve been credited with matching couples since before you were born. I assure you that I’m very good at what I do, and my success rate is stellar.”
“Hey, if she doesn’t need a man, cool. I’m out of here,” the guy said, and once again his voice—deep and raspy—rocked Antika from the top of her head to the soles of her feet.
Goodness. When it came to distinct, soul-stirring voices like Barry White, James Earl Jones, and even Morgan Freeman, this man was absolutely in their league.
Still, it wasn’t enough for Antika to change her mind.
He turned for the door, but Mrs. Ross rushed to block his path.
“Don’t leave the building,” she told him. “Wait for me in the other room.”
He stared at the woman for the longest time, then dropped his shoulders and gave a slight nod.
Antika sensed a silent conversation going on between them, but couldn’t be sure. Maybe he had worked for the woman long enough to where they could communicate without words.
It didn’t matter. She was no longer interested in being matched.
“Antika, you wouldn’t have come here if you didn’t want a handsome man on your arm to attend a few events with you,” Mrs. Ross said after the man left. “You’ve already done the hard part—completing the personal profile. Why not give me a chance to show you how good I am at what I do?”
Antika shook her head, willing herself not to fall for this woman’s persuasiveness and charm. “I can’t. I have never been so uncomfortable in all my life. I don’t do this—I don’t buy or hire guys to go out with me.”
“Honey, don’t look at it like that. You’re hiring me to provide a service for you. That’s all it is. Granted, on the surface, Drevon doesn’t look like the man you had in mind, but I assure you he’s a perfect fit. Give him a chance.”
Antika released a shaky sigh. “I don’t know. This is so not like me. I—”
“Give me a chance. If you don’t enjoy Drevon’s company, I’ll refund your money one hundred percent.”
After a long hesitation, Antika started to say no thanks.
Instead, for some reason, she said, “Let me think about it.”
Chapter Four
The moment Tamera opened her apartment door, Antika shoved past her and headed to the living room. She plopped down on the black cushiony sofa and huffed out a sigh.
Who hires a man to go out with her? This wasn’t her style. She had too much integrity to stoop to this level, and no way could she lie about having a boyfriend or a date—or whatever the heck the guy was going to be to her.
But now she had another problem.
Her possible fake date was dominating her thoughts. Despite telling him and Mrs. Ross that he wasn’t her type, Antika was shamelessly curious about him…and that voice.
“Well, come on in and make yourself comfortable,” Tamera cracked, and Antika glanced over her shoulder at her friend, who was still standing at the door with a hand on her hip. She slammed it shut. “To what do I owe the pleasure of this unexpected, yet wonderful surprise visit?”
“Have you ever decided to do something and then later think—What the hell was I thinking?” Antika asked. “You realize that you didn’t think the situation through, and then you start imagining how your decision can backfire in so many ways. Well, I did it. I went to that man-for-sale agency that you recommended, and I’m asking myself—why do I always let you talk me into crap like this?”
“Wait.” Tamera rushed to the sofa and plopped down. “You went to At Your Service? I can’t believe it. How was it? Did you see any cute men? Tell me everything, and please tell me you have a picture of the guy who’ll be your temporary man.”
Antika dug through the side pocket of her purse for her cell phone. “He is so not my type. I requested a dark chocolate, tall, rugged man, and I ended up with this guy.”
Tamera studied the photo. “What are you talking about? This guy is a cutie. He actually looks like that model—Drevon Ross.”
Antika stared at her friend. “Hold up. You know that guy?”
“No, I said he looks like—”
“His name is Drevon Ross!” Antika shrieked, then leaped to her feet and started pacing in front of the sofa. “No way it can be the same guy, but… he’s the model? Like—like the famous model? Why didn’t they tell me? I assumed he was some regular Joe Blow in their database.”
“Wait, I’m confused.” Tamera stood and shuffled through the magazines on the cocktail table before lifting one and turning the front cover to Antika.
Antika stared at it, and her heart slammed against her chest. The exquisite human being on the cover wearing a black suit with a black turtleneck and silver jewelry was mouthwatering gorgeous.
“Are you telling me that cutie-pie Drevon Ross is the person they hooked you up with? The person who’ll be your date for my birthday party next weekend? The person you’ll be taking to your company’s gala?”
Antika covered her face with her hands and growled. “Oh. My. God. This just keeps getting worse. Why did I let you talk me into this? I can’t go out with a famous model.” She dropped her hands and looked at her friend. “I especially can’t take him to the company’s event. They’ll never believe someone like him would be involved with someone like me.”
Tamera was still standing in front of her with wide eyes and her mouth hanging open. “How in the world did you get hooked up with him? Is he as gorgeous in person as he is on magazines and television?”
“He looks like some…some pretty boy. You know I don’t do pretty boys. I prefer tall, dark, and rugged. Not cute, conservative, and…fine.”
“Whoa! My best friend is hooked up with Drevon Frickin’ Ross! Wait until I tell everybody!” She squealed and did a happy dance, rolling her shoulders and rocking her hips to some silent beat playing inside her head.
“I’ll have a celebrity at my party, and it is going to be lit! Oh, I know. See if he’ll bring a couple of his famous peeps. I heard he was good friends with Michael B. Jordan and—”
“Stop!” Antika screamed before she got Tamera’s attention. “You are not to say a word to anyone about this. I’m not sure I’m going through with this arrangement. I was a nervous wreck by the time I left the place. There’s no way I’ll be able to go through with this.”
