Chapter two

Siren sent me the money before I left, and she also handed me a bag containing a red dress and matching heels. I sighed as I checked my phone time. I was supposed to meet him, the man willing to pay a fortune for a fake wife, this afternoon, in about twenty minutes.

The dress was knee-length with spaghetti straps and a deep, vibrant red that resembled a full-blooming rose. It hugged my curves in just the right places, and the fabric felt silky against my skin. I could not deny that it was stunning. But the colour seemed to call attention to me in a way that made me uncomfortable. I couldn't help but feel like I was being offered up like a prize. I pulled my black hair into a ponytail and decided not to apply makeup as I felt it was too much. I hoped the man who wanted to marry me saw me as more than a pretty face. But I was not sure.

The taxi pulled up in front of the address sent to me which is a cabin, and I took a deep breath before stepping out. I could feel the warmth of the Florida sun on my skin, and the sound of the waves crashing against the shore in the distance.  I took a moment to look around, taking in the lush greenery and the rustic charm of the cabin. It was a far cry from my usual surroundings.

I stepped through the door of the cabin, and I was immediately hit by the warm, earthy smell of cedar and pine. The cabin was rustic and cosy, with a large fireplace in the centre of the room. 

Two young ladies stood before me, smiling warmly. They looked alike, with the same hairstyles and outfits. But one had a small mole beside her right eye, making her a little different. 

"Welcome, we've been expecting you."  They said.

"Would you like anything?"

I hesitated, not sure what to say. I felt out of my element, like a fish out of water. I wasn't used to this kind of treatment, and it was making me uncomfortable.

"I'm fine, thank you," I finally said and they showed me to a chair by the fireplace. 

The one with a mole left, while the other stood there, staring into the air. I think she's here to make sure I don't ruin anything or maybe she's just there in case I needed something.

I closed my eyes, trying to take a few deep breaths. The stillness of the cabin was a welcome respite from the hustle and bustle of the outside world. But I knew that I couldn't get too comfortable.

I was struck by the height and powerful presence of a man who walked into the room.  

He's about 6'3", with a trim, athletic build. He was wearing a dark suit, and his hair was short and dark brown, coiffed. Piercing azure blue eyes, same as my father's. He seemed confident and sure of himself, almost to the point of arrogance. There's a faint scent of cedar and sandalwood that lingers in the air around him, and his hands are large, strong and filled with veins. 

Damn!

I have seen guys at the sultry siren, and he will be one of the sexiest, because damn!

As I watched him walk into the room, I couldn't help but notice his clothes. They were clearly high-end, with the perfect cut and fit. His shirt was made of the finest cotton, and his suit looked like it had been tailored specifically for him. The fabric was smooth and silky, and the stitching was perfect. There was no doubt that he had spent a lot of money on his clothes, and they fit him like a glove. It was clear that he took pride in his appearance, and I couldn't help but feel a bit impressed, did I already say damn? Damn!!

The men at Sultry Siren were dressed in all different types of clothes, and it was clear that some of them were more expensive than others. I could tell which ones were high-end by the way they fit, the quality of the fabric, and the details like the stitching and the labels. The guys who were wearing fake clothes were easy to spot - their clothes were ill-fitting, the fabric was cheap, and the labels were often misspelt or just plain wrong. 

I noticed that the man was not alone. He was accompanied by a woman who I assumed was his secretary. She was dressed in formal clothes, and she carried herself with a professional demeanour.

He sat across from me while the lady stood, his eyes staring into mine. I shifted uncomfortably.

"Parents?" He inquired, Voice deep as the ocean, captivating as a siren's song. I opened my mouth to respond, but his secretary did so instead.

"Mother is alive, but Father is dead."

"State?"

"Affair and out of town."

"Your mother won't be a problem, right?" He leaned in, his hands clasped together. 

I was knee-deep in his gaze. 

"No...no, she won't."

Stuttering? For the love of God, Sam, compose yourself. My mom won't be a problem; it's been eight years since she left us and she has never once called so I don't think she would be a problem.

His phone rang and he left. Is that all? Just like that. What will happen next?

His secretary stayed behind. 

"You will meet with your lawyer tomorrow; the contract will be explained to you so that there are no problems in the future." Thank you for your time, Ms. Jones, I need to be on my way. The time and location of your appointment with your lawyer will be sent to you, and a ride is waiting for you outside."

She adjusted her glasses and left. I stepped outside right after she left, my God, it's Rolls-Royce and a man in a suit outside.

"Good day, Ms. Jones; I will be taking you home," he said, smiling brightly.

He opened the backseat door. It felt so good to be treated this way.

"Welcome, Ms. Jones. I'm Elijah, I will be your driver from now on." He said as I settled into the backseat. His voice was soothing and calm, like a soft breeze on a summer day. 

"My driver?"

"Yes, you have an appointment tomorrow; I will be at your place at the scheduled time."

Oh wow, I get my driver?  I closed my eyes, enjoying the calm before the storm. 

I never want to go back to stripping.