Page 38 of It's Not All Fake

I allow her to scroll through the short NDA on my phone. Chloe looks on silently, her eyebrows furrowed. I can tell she’s brimming with questions.

“I’m sorry,” I mouth, aware how awkward this must be for her. She shakes her head to dismiss my apology, but the disquiet in her eyes remains.

“You hiring at your mansion?” Martha asks as she skims the legal document.

The question catches me off guard. We have a full staff, but this is probably not the time to tell her “no.” She hasn’t signed yet.

“Uh, yes, actually,” I lie, allowing her the opportunity to squeeze more out of this deal as long as I can keep this night out of the public eye.

“What’s the pay?”

“I think we can negotiate something that’ll work for you,” I assure her.

“Twenty an hour, full-time,” Martha asserts.

I would have paid more.

“Fine by me,” I agree.

Martha smiles and finally signs the NDA with her finger.

I quickly gather her details and transfer over the funds. Within minutes, the money is traveling through cyberspace.

“Martha, did you see anyone else working late?” I ask, afraid that someone else in the building could still leak our office sex story. I really don’t want to pay off more people.

“Nobody working the way you two were,” she chuckles, and I notice Chloe stiffen. “Just one guy on the first floor. I doubt he heard you if that’s what you’re worried about. He’s on the other end.” Martha motions across the building.

I nod, relieved, and slide on my shoes. “Come over to the house in the morning to work out the details,” I tell Martha, shooting her a text with the address.

“You got it, boss.” She beams, her mood much lighter now.

In contrast, Chloe’s mood has soured and I’m afraid she’s resurrecting another wall between us. She grabs her purse and heads towards the door.

Chloe and I both thank Martha as we walk past, but Chloe’s voice is quiet, constricted. She’s maintaining composure, but I know there’s a lot on her mind.

She hits the elevator button a little too forcefully.

I want to put my arm around her, but her body language tells me it may not be welcome. Her arms are crossed, and I know she’s bothered.

“Are you okay?” I ask as I join her to wait for the elevator.

“Yeah.” She smiles at me, but I know it’s masking something.

The elevator door opens, and I follow her inside. She presses “G” and leans against the wall near the buttons, quiet, thinking. I’m desperate to know what’s on her mind. I position myself against the back wall, perpendicular to her. There is space between us, but not too much.

“Chloe, I want the real answer,” I say gently. I’m afraid now that she’s regretting what happened between us.

That catches her attention, and she looks up at me.

“How often do you do that?” she asks.

I knew this was coming.

“Buy people off?” I ask, though I’m certain that’s what she means.

She raises her eyebrows, waiting for an answer, because that’s exactly what she means.

“Not often, but a couple times,” I admit.

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