Page 8 of Pursued By My Grumpy Fiancé
“Um, check?” I ask. I don’t know what kind of cash he keeps on him, but I’m not walking into my apartment building with any amount of money in my hand. It’s not that I live in a bad area, but I wouldn’t go waving money around anywhere in this part of San Francisco.
He whips out a checkbook and pen, quickly filling out the check. He passes it to me and nods.
“Thank you, Ms. Dunn. I appreciate your services,” he says.
I mockingly wretch and step out of the Tesla. I head inside as quickly as I can, clutching the folded-up check in my hand.
Once in my building, I turn around and see that Landon is just now pulling off. He waited for me to get inside. That would be sweet if he wasn’t so weird.
I take the stairs up to my eighth-floor apartment, since the elevator is permanently out of order. I sigh and close the door behind me. Then, I drag myself to the small table and sit down, massaging my feet as I remove each heel. I strip off my dress, and grab my pajamas from the other dining chair. After getting comfortable and settled I drag myself to the couch. The events of the day run wild in my mind, like a never-ending Ferris wheel ride. I close my eyes and Landon’s stormy eyes make their way into my mind. My eyes pop open at the thought of him, and that’s when I remember the check. I go and grab it, hoping I’ll be able to electronically deposit it tonight and receive the funds by tomorrow.
I unfold the check and read it. My jaw drops open and I let it fall to the floor in shock.
He’s paid me ten thousand dollars.
Who is this man? I decide that I must find out.
I open my laptop and sit back. As soon as I reach Google, I slowly type in his name.
There’s already a news article from tonight. It’s complete with a picture of the two of us on stage. Oh god, I think I’m going to vomit.
I click on the article and read through.
Esteemed finance-industry billionaire famous for taking over late father’s company has announced a new business venture and engagement on the same night.
He’s a billionaire. Because of course he is.
The last thing I need is some rich guy hanging around, trying to pay for everything. What I really don’t want is to feel indebted to someone financially.
I shut my laptop and lay down on my couch, letting out a groan.
This just keeps getting worse.
Chapter Five
Landon
Thedrivebacktomy apartment is long and agonizing. I’m plagued with thoughts of Hailey—her long red hair falling in loose curls down her back. The way her long emerald green gown sat against her creamy skin and accentuated every last curve on her body.
Thinking about her in this way makes me want to turn right back around and knock on her door so I can ravish her all night. Her eyes are the most mesmerizing shade of green, reminiscent of the jungle—inviting yet dangerous. The minute she sat in my car, I knew I had to have her. No ifs, ands, or buts. But, I didn’t realize exactly how hard it would be to keep my hands to myself when she was around. She was professional about her work. Not batting an eye to anyone who wasn’t deemed important by me, smiling at the right time, and saying the right things. It was as if she was sent from God Himself to me, a gift for good behavior. Smart, determined, and beautiful. Oh, so beautiful. Her beauty was almost sinful, her curves the embodiment of lust itself.
I park the car in the garage of my building and head up to my penthouse. I have to know more about her. How did she become an escort? Correction “date-for-hire.” I can hear her voice saying, “If you’re going to give my profession a name, you could say I’m a “date-for-hire.” A smile forms at the corners of my lips. I have to admire her sense of self-respect. A lot of women would resort to just having sex for money in a job like that, but she sticks to her guns. She has a strong sense of morality.
I reach my penthouse and head in. I pour myself a glass of whiskey before stepping to the window, admiring the view before me. The city lights twinkle all around me, coming to an end far in the distance. I step away and sit on the couch in front of my laptop.
I’ll try Facebook first, I suppose.
I gently type ‘Hailey Dunn’ into the search bar, as if being nice to the keyboard will render more results.
I spot her right away, fourth from the top. The picture is of her and another, less attractive woman with similar features, probably a sister or a cousin. I click on her profile, which is private, but still useful to glean some information from.
She’s studying law at USF. She used to work at a restaurant called Maple’s. I can’t see any of her posts, though, and hardly any of her pictures. Most of them are old, from when she was young. I’m sure they’re great, but they’re not what I’m looking for.
Actually, I don’t know what I’m looking for.
I take a sip of whiskey and open Google. I type Hailey Dunn in the search bar and the results are futile. There are too many Hailey Dunns for me to possibly wade through them all to find any useful information. I try again, typing in her name and USF. Nothing again, although I should have guessed.
I sigh, admitting defeat. I tried to do it myself, but this requires an expert. I pick up my phone and dial a number I know by heart.
