The Roommate Arrangement Read online

  “I can’t imagine what it was like—”

  Needled past endurance, my head whirled around. “No, you can’t.”

  “But you haven’t tried, Jessica. Admit it. You’ve survived everything that happened to you, but you’ve never allowed yourself to live.”

  The suffocating fear escalated even more. “What the hell does that mean?”

  She was close to shouting now. “I’ve been waiting years for you to get help for yourself! You can’t afford groceries. You’re incapable of getting your shit together. And being alone with men makes you have panic attacks, and it doesn’t take a genius to figure out why. And now you’re turning to this insanely stupid idea that will make your problems worse.”

  My knuckles turned white on the head of the chair. I briefly entertained throwing the hot bowl of soup in Natalie’s face. I didn’t trust myself not to scream something I’d regret forever, so I said nothing. Natalie’s half-enraged, half-remorseful face said it all: something had broken between us. I didn’t need to hear her say all of those awful things out loud because I said them to myself every day.

  I turned my back on her before she could speak and walked into the safety of my bedroom. Even though I knew she wouldn’t follow me, I still locked the door. My pinched face and red eyes reflected from my vanity. I saw myself bent at the waist, clutching the bathroom sink as he ripped down my pants. I looked into the mirror and sobbed as his naked body loomed behind me. Then I was trapped, forced to ride out the hell that was my memory until it was over.

  The buzzing phone jerked me out of sleep, and I rubbed my tear-encrusted eyes. My heart jumped when I realized I had a new email. I rolled on my stomach to read it.

  Hi Jessica,

  Hopefully, this hasn't reached you too late. I'd like to schedule another meeting in Napa. I have a company outing there tomorrow. It would be great to have a chat with you while I'm there. My driver can collect you at your apartment around 3 pm. Please reply if this is acceptable.

  - Luke

  Does this mean I passed?

  I doubted it because of his strange business-like tone. Groaning at the thought of going all the way to Napa, but thankful I didn’t have to drive; I punched out a quick email. How the background check complete so quickly? Perhaps he would drive me there just to tell me I didn’t get the position.

  Definitely not. He would've sent a polite email thanking me for a lovely time and apologize for selecting another candidate.

  After sending off a quick reply, I fell back on my pillows and wondered what the hell I would wear since I didn’t want to borrow anything else from Natalie.

  He'll wear something more casual.

  I checked the time. It was midnight. Only fifteen hours to go. Restless, I sprang out of bed and blinked as I flipped on the light. I slid open the closet door and rifled through my sad collection. I bit my lip. There was nothing here to impress him. My fingers lingered over a tired skirt, a frayed blouse, and returned to the cocktail dress.

  I can’t wear the same thing twice.

  Resolving to wait until morning, I threw myself into bed. A shopping trip might be possible, but I didn’t like spending the little money I had on clothes.

  The restless thoughts haunted me for hours as my body refused to let me sleep. A burnt coffee smell drifted in from the kitchen; Natalie was getting ready for work. I gave up trying to get back to sleep and flipped the light switch. My worry about meeting with Luke dwarfed the slight twinge of annoyance when Natalie knocked and opened my bedroom door.

  She stared at all the clothes laid out and blinked. “I wanted to apologize, Jess. Last night was a mess. I’m really sorry about all the things I said. There's been a lot of pressure on me from work.” Natalie squinted at my bed. “What are you doing?”

  I wasn’t sure I was ready to forgive her, but I had no energy to stay angry. Desperate for her advice, I waved my hand toward the clothes.

  “The billionaire wants to meet me this afternoon in Napa. I’m trying to figure out what to wear.”

  Natalie stepped inside and inspected the pile on the bed. She bit her lip, an unmistakable signal she was searching for something delicate to say.

  “Just say it—my clothes are crap.”

  She avoided my eyes as she picked up a faded blouse sleeve. “Listen, just go in my closet and pick out a dress. Whatever you want.”

  I heaved a great sigh of relief. "Thanks so much. You're a lifesaver." Grateful we were the same size, I wasn't worried when I had a full wardrobe of Natalie's cute outfits at my disposal.

  “It’s no problem.” She wearily stared into her coffee mug. “Why does he want to see you all the way over there?”

  Shrugging, I hung the clothes back in my closet. “I dunno. Well, he mentioned he had a company meeting there. He seems like a busy person.”

  It was weird to be talking to her as though nothing happened. Her vicious comments rang in my head. Maybe she sensed I was still hurt because she wished me luck before she left.

  I didn't leave my bedroom until I heard the front door close. My thoughts lingered on the mysterious, handsome man I met only a day ago even though I tried to distract myself throughout the day. I tried to resist Googling him but ended up studying his strangely brief Wikipedia page, anyway. In contrast, his father's was very detailed and long. I scanned it to learn Luke was his only child and that his wife, Luke's mother, died in her mid-thirties. Giacomo Pardini was an alcoholic and was dying of terminal lung cancer.

  No wonder he had a reputation for partying; it was an escape. I closed the page as a small blush crept on my face.

  I shouldn’t pry into his life. He wouldn’t like it.

  At noon, I pulled on the outfit I chose: a pair of black leggings and a sweater from Express. There was no way I was going out in a dress again in the middle of November. Thanksgiving was in a week, Natalie would have it off, and she'd double the effort to make me go with her this year. I kept my appearance simple with mascara and lip-gloss.

  The black Mercedes rolled up against the curb at two o’clock sharp. The magical carriage has arrived to take Cinderella to the ball. Shrugging on my wool coat, I opened the door and entered the stinging air. The same driver from the night prior stepped out and opened the passenger door for me

  “Thanks.” I beamed at him as I ducked inside the heated car. I would never get used to this.

  He tipped his black cap. “Not at all,” he said.

  The familiar feeling of being caught in a wonderful, absurd dream was overwhelming, and I giggled as he closed the door. A town car a billionaire hired whisked me away from my crappy apartment and its crumbling streets.

  Don’t get carried away, I reminded myself. This could all end today, leaving me with nothing but memories.

  The driver glanced at me in the rear-view mirror, and I wondered what kind of life he had.

  “I never caught your name, sir.”

  “It’s Jim.”

  “I’m Jessica. Nice to meet you.”

  My hands fidgeted in my lap. He was wondering why the hell Luke asked him to pick up a girl from a Section 8 apartment complex.

  I made a few comments about the weather just to make the drive a little less awkward. The discussion changed to BART strikes, and we found camaraderie on the topic. Then I ran out of things to talk about.

  “Whoa.”

  A magnificent building loomed over us as Jim turned into the road leading to Opus One Winery. It sat on a deep green lawn elevated on all sides like a pyramid. Fields of grape vines surrounded the whole area. The cream-colored limestone made it shine like a small sun in the late afternoon.

  The driver stopped the car in the winery’s parking space and opened my door. “Mr. Pardini will be waiting for you inside.”

  “Thank you, Jim.”

  What a beautiful place. Out of all the Californian wines, Opus One was the most hyped. If I could rate a wine based on how beautiful the winery was, Opus One would score a perfect ten. My heels echoed within the h
igh-ceilinged walls after I walked through the massive brown doors and stepped into the winery. Like the interior of Mediterranean villa, it with golden light and colorful flowers spilled from vases. The rich architectural details on the archways mesmerized me.

  “Can I help you?”

  I turned to a woman dressed in a white blouse and black slacks.

  “Yes, I’m supposed to meet Mr. Pardini here.”

  “Oh, you must be Jessica. Please follow me.”

  I followed her around the sweeping circular hall. The winery was like a giant disc, and she walked along a stretch of private room hidden behind glass doors. Above us was a huge dome where the sun filtered through the second floor’s terrace

  My heart gave a sudden squeeze as I recognized Luke seated on a white leather sofa. Dressed in pristine khakis and a sky-blue sweater, he stared at a pile of paper alongside a glass of wine on the coffee table.

  Definitely more casual and laid back than the night at the restaurant.

  He didn’t notice us when we approached and only looked up when the woman rapped on the glass.

  The same polite look flicked on his face as he waved me inside. Was it me, or was his smile strained?

  Nervous energy and laughter bubbled from my throat as Luke stood up to receive me. I stopped thinking when his arm wrapped around my shoulders and his fingers lightly stroked my skin as if he’d done it a thousand times before. The shock ran down the back of my mouth like liquid heat.

  When he spoke, I felt the vibrations through my body. “That’ll be all, thank you.”

  The woman smiled and looked flustered as she left the room.

  Well, good. Now I know that I’m not the only one who gets so affected.

  Then he left me so abruptly that I felt like icy water was thrown on my face.

  “Would you like wine?”

  “Sure,” I said. I took the delicate stem he offered me, disguising my confusion by hiding behind the glass. The wine’s acidity balanced perfectly with the tangy fruit taste. I sat across from him on the couch while my heart hammered in anticipation.

  Well, how did it go?

  “Thank you for coming here, Jessica. The background check I ran on you was clear, but I do my own extensive research with my PI. I wanted to talk to you about what he found.”

  He has a private investigator? God, this guy’s paranoid.

  The wine was high in my throat no matter how much I sipped. I didn’t like the detached tone of his voice.

  He folded his long fingers into steeples and looked at me. “Do you mind if I ask questions about your background?”

  My gaze dropped, and I shrugged. “I guess not.”

  "I know that you were a foster child and that you were transferred from a few homes. The reports mentioned that you had behavioral problems. I apologize if this is awkward, but I need to make sure you're… well-adjusted."

  The wavering wine glass made a ringing sound as I set it down on the coffee table. No one ever invaded my privacy like this, and I didn’t know how to react. Luke took a flying leap over my comfort zone.

  “Well, I didn’t have the most stable home life, so I acted out a lot.” I knew no one would ever adopt me, and my foster parents would eventually get sick of me, so I threw fits and smashed things to get me transferred as soon as possible.

  He waited for me to elaborate, but there was no way in hell I would talk about my childhood.

  “Okay, um… I contacted one of the foster parents you were with the longest earlier today. The Kramers. They mentioned that you were particularly—Jessica?”

  Luke’s polite smile dissolved into horror as I crumpled against my will.

  Bill and Shelly Kramer.

  Their round faces swam in my mind. I felt their cruel hands on my flesh, twisting, hitting, and striking me. The belt whistled through the air. The terrifying sound of his leather belt slipping through the loops of his jeans. Their oldest son, Vincent, with his sweet, angelic face. They believed every word out of his psychotic mouth.

  The pressure built from holding back tears made my forehead feel like it would explode.

  How dare he spring them on me like that?

  I wanted to kick the khaki and blue colored blob sitting on the couch.

  “You talked to them? What did they—what’s wrong with you?” The last words erupted from my throat. “Do you think it’s okay to pry into people’s lives?”

  He appeared in front of me. “It was all in the contract, Jessica,” he said in a kind voice. “You signed it. I do this for all my employees.”

  The rage left me with overwhelming embarrassment. “I need to leave.”

  I grabbed the door.

  “No, wait!” He pushed it shut and used his body to block my path. I turned away, but he took my shoulders. He looked pained.

  “Hey, listen, I’m sorry. Please don’t be upset. I know that what I did was way over the line. Please forgive me.”

  It’s not his fault. He didn’t know.

  I sniffed and nodded, allowing him to steer me back to the couch. I wiped my eyes as Luke sat down in front of me. His hands fidgeted in his lap, making him look as though I caught him stealing.

  “I’m sorry for yelling at you. I didn’t know that was part of the contract. There are certain things I don’t like to talk about and my past is one of them.”

  He nodded. “I understand.”

  He leaned forward and snatched his glass, glad I calmed down. “I’m just going to cut to the chase. I really need your help.” Luke gave me a sharp look. “Remember, all of this is confidential. You signed an NDA.”

  “Just tell me what it is, already.” Some of the anger bit into my voice.

  He looked nervous. He kept clenching his hands. "Yes. Right. Well, here it is. My dying father is threatening to write me out of his will unless I shape up and settle down. I'll lose my entire inheritance and my job unless I can convince him it's happening. The disease is advanced, so I'm short on time. I need someone who'll act like my girlfriend. We'll travel together, get photographed going out, and be in the same hotel rooms—though this relationship will be strictly professional. It's all an act."

  Finally, everything was out in the open. He wanted me to kiss him in public, hold his hand, and make eyes with him.

  Easy peasy. I would have done it for free.

  He stared at me. “Well, say something!”

  All of it seemed so unlikely. “Would your father do that?”

  Luke huffed. "Yes. Absolutely. My uncle Dominic was the co-founder of Pardini Worldwide and each of his five children, my cousins, have shares. It would be a simple thing to write me out of the will, especially with the rest of the family hissing suggestions in his ear. Almost five billion would be distributed amongst them if I were kicked out. They would love it."

  Five billion?

  My head spun as I imagined a gladiator arena with Luke’s family dressed in business suits all fighting each other to the death. It almost made my foster family life look civilized. They must constantly be at each other's throats. Anyone would be driven mad by that amount of money.

  The strain was livid on Luke's face; it curled his shoulders forward. "My father is a cruel, narcissistic man. I've worked hard all my life for the company, and I deserve this. I'll be damned if I let that bastard take it all away from me." He sighed and sank back into the sofa. "Sorry, it's just that I don't get to vent about him often."

  I felt sorry for him. It must be horrible to live your life at the whim of someone with so much power over you. “I don’t understand—why don’t you get a real girlfriend?”

  “It’s not that easy."

  The deflated look on his face alarmed me. Did he have self-esteem issues? “You’re handsome and rich.”

  “Notice how you added, ‘and rich’? It’s hard to find someone who likes me for who I am and not for my money. I can’t trust anyone. Besides, I have little time. I need to leave next week for London.”

  Wow. I didn’t realize I could ever
feel so sorry for a billionaire. “But you’re letting your father control your life.”

  “No, I’m not. I picked you. I want him to think he’s controlling me. That’s when he’s the happiest.”

  “Why did you pick me?” I blurted.

  “Because you’re educated and pretty. And we seem to have good chemistry.”

  My cheeks flushed, and he smiled at me.

  He leaned in closer, refusing to let me out of his gaze. "I have to warn you, though. If we don't get along, we'll have to go our separate ways. I mean—we'll be together constantly. I know that this is a lot to ask for, and that's why I'm prepared to pay you ten thousand dollars a month."

  My mind went blank. “I’m sorry, what?”

  I couldn’t have possibly heard that right.

  He smirked, knowing then he had me. “Ten thousand dollars a month.”

  “Jesus,” I whispered.

  Get paid an absurd amount of money to travel with the world’s most handsome bachelor? Yes, YES!

  “But what would we tell people? How did we meet? Where did I grow up?”

  We would have to fabricate a huge back-story. I doubted his relatives would think highly of an orphan coming from no money. I wondered if I could pull this off.

  “We’ll figure out all of that stuff later. Will you do it?”

  And I would visit London. I always wanted to go there. “Yes, I’ll do it.”

  He slapped the desk. “Great! Well, it’s almost the end of the month, so I’ll pay you half of what we agreed. You can use it to buy clothes for the trip or whatever you want. I’ll get your plane tickets. We leave next week on Wednesday. I know it’s Thanksgiving, but it really can’t wait.”

  I wouldn’t be able to plan the Thanksgiving meal for the soup kitchen. Who cares? “Don’t worry about it.”

  It will probably be the best Thanksgiving I’ve ever had.

  I seized the contract in front of my nose. A few months was the intended duration.

  “I don’t know how long my dad has, but I’ll renew it if he hasn’t gone yet.”