Page 3 of Hunter

“That’s my fucking money!” Trent shouts, all the while Theo and I sit back and let the show unfold. Even RIP rolls his eyes, which can only mean this argument is a common occurrence.

“That it is, Trent, but unless your mother and I sign for it, there is little you can do, so pipe down and do as you’re fucking told!”

Trent slams his hands on top of the table in anger before glaring at me like I just pissed on his punk boots.

“Fine, I’ll find one of my regulars and get engaged, happy?” he concedes through clenched teeth.

“No,” I reply matter of factly, “leave the girl to us. I can’t imagine anyone who agrees to sleep with you in your current state, being the type of woman we’re looking for.”

“Who are you thinking of?” Theo asks me, bypassing Trent and his father. The truth is I don’t know yet, but give me time and I’m sure I can find someone to have a fake engagement with an A-list celebrity.

“Mr Chase, Mr Hunter, I’m so sorry I’m late. What would you like me to do?” Louisa enters the meeting room as quiet as a mouse. Bingo!

Chapter 2

Daniel

Louisa Flynn is an enigma.

A girl in her early to mid-twenties who dresses every day for work like she’s about to attend a retired lady’s tea afternoon. She always, without fail, tucks her hair into a tight bun; I couldn’t even tell you if her hair is short, long, or a clip-on. Her glasses look like a pair she borrowed from her grandmother. They’re huge, square, and decorated in a nice chintzy pattern to go with her long, floral skirts and oversized shirts. And if that ensemble wasn’t ugly enough, her cardigans look like something my grandfather used to wear. If she dressed her age, I’m sure she’d have a line of men following her to the office, however, the way she presents herself screams, ‘Keep far away!’

Her personality pretty much matches her exterior. She’s quiet, meek, and mild; nothing is too much for her to do and she is always polite and kind to everyone, even charmless imbeciles like Trent. All our employees like her, but much like me, they can’t really work her out. I don’t know anything about her personal life, but I’d be very surprised if she ever ventured out. Though, in terms of her professionalism, I can’t fault her at all.

All of this makes her the perfect candidate for Trent Matthew’s fake fiancée. If anything, she might need to vamp up a little, but otherwise, she’s our girl. With her tinkering about in the kitchenette, I begin picturing how we can sell this new image of Trent and Louisa to the press, as well as potential directors. She serves our drinks and I smile at Theo; he already knows what’s going through my head, which he shows by shaking his head.

Trent eyes the both of us during this little exchange and turns to study Louisa in more detail. He then glances back at me, and I nod. His eyes burst open over the realization of what I am silently suggesting, and when I turn my head a fraction to the side, which more than confirms my intention, his mouth drops open in horror.

“No fucking way!” he cries out. “I ain’t pretending to be hooked up with that,” he snaps, now gesturing to Louisa.

At his outburst, poor Louisa looks at Trent like he’s some sort of escaped mental patient from a cheesy horror flick.

“Louisa?” I ask politely, completely ignoring Trent’s inability to see past obvious appearances. “Would you mind taking a seat with us? Don’t worry about the drinks.”

Louisa cautiously walks over to take a seat next to me. I notice her tiny frame fold in on itself after she’s made herself somewhat more comfortable inside of the chair. I feel a little guilty for suggesting she goes anywhere near the crassness of Mr Matthews and his gauche attire and untactful mouth. However, not enough to not follow through with my idea. Trent opens his mouth to begin running it off again, so I put up my hand and give him a visual warning with just my eyes. I can look like a murderous son of a bitch if I need to, and right now, I very much need to.

“You will be polite and courteous, Mr Matthews, or you can find representation elsewhere.”

“Trent, zip up that stupid mouth of yours!” his father orders, knowing we’re his last option to keep his son in with a chance of scoring any more roles.

Trent releases a huff of annoyance, much like I would have done when I was thirteen and beginning my torturous journey through puberty. The idiot even folds his arms and throws himself back against the chair.

“Louisa,” I begin, turning to give her my sole attention.

“Yes, Mr Hunter?” She looks at me like I’m her parent about to chastise her, so I try to soften my expression.

“We have a proposition for you,” I begin, trying to sound soothing. “Mr Matthews, here, is one of our newest clients.”

I hold my hand out toward him as some sort of introduction, assuming she’ll have heard of him. Though, when she turns to look at him, there isn’t a trace of recognition on her face. From the look of Trent’s expression, this has dented his ego…considerably. I would revel in such a reaction if it wasn’t for the fact that he has the potential to make us a tidy sum.

“Hello,” she whispers, to which the bastard says nothing. His father, however, introduces himself and smiles kindly.

“Mr Matthews has been a bit…wild recently and we need to do something to neaten up his image…turn his reputation around. We need to make him more appealable to directors, as well as more attractive to women.”

“Right,” she says, drawing the word out as she furrows her brow in confusion. I’m going to have to be more obvious, the fact of which is more than a little amusing to Theo by the smile on his face.

“We need him to be seen to be linked to someone who can make him look more serious. What I’m suggesting is that we put him with someone who will make him appear to be settling down, becoming more sensible, and…romantic. Someone normal, someone like you,” I explain, pausing to give her an encouraging smile. “A fake engagement as it were.”

She looks between me, a scowling Trent, his father, who is now over-the-top smiling, Theo, who is beginning to look unsure and somewhat protective of her, and finally, me.

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