Page 3 of The Arrangement

Still, I had to agree. I had to accept her conditions because I was worried I’d lose her if I didn’t. I knew my wife. I knew once she’d made up her mind about something, there was little that could be done to dissuade her.

Next, I pulled up the section that said ‘About Pete’ and got to work. I was uninteresting, particularly so because I couldn’t mention anything about my job, wife, or children. I was supposed to have done this last night, but I’d been putting it off, trying to describe myself separately from them. Who was I if not a husband, father, and architect? The truth was, I had no idea. So much of my identity was tied up in who they were, who I was to them. I was part of a package, and to separate myself from said package, left me feeling empty and useless.

Ainsley already had a few matches this morning when I checked her phone—I didn’t read the messages, I was not a masochist—but it only made it more real for me. We were really going to do this, and I had to get in gear if I wanted to line up a date by Thursday.

I sighed and typed something simple and stupid in the ‘About’ section.

40. Middle of my class at a university you could care less about.

I should probably put something cool here. So…

Something Cool.

I rolled my eyes, disgusted by the Dad joke, but it was the best I could come up with, which was embarrassing in and of itself. I skipped adding my school but uploaded two more photos, one of me outside after a hike—all the sweat, none of the flexing—and another of me at the beach before I started forming my Dad gut. Best of both worlds there. Men’s magazine and women’s. In the second picture, there was a beer in my hand, and I wore a carefree smile.

Approachable.

Nice.

I hit save and was immediately taken to a screen with a big green button that appeared to be pulsing.

Let’s find your match! it said. I allowed my thumb to hover over it briefly before pressing the button and watching it transform into a wheel and begin to spin.

The first profile loaded, bringing a photo to the screen. Creative! it said underneath her photo. Was that her name or…? The woman was blonde, younger than me, and she was pretending to laugh in her photo. She seemed cute enough. There were two buttons on my screen: a red heart and a yellow thumbs down. I hit the heart, watched it pulse twice, and then the girl’s face disappeared. I waited, wondering what would happen next as a strange sense of excitement bubbled in my stomach.

Instead of being taken to a way to chat with her, another girl’s photo filled the screen. She was Black, dressed in a yellow bikini with a genuine smile, and held a glass bottle of beer in her hand. Adventurous! I hit the heart button even quicker that time.

The next girl wore hipster glasses and her hair was cut shorter than I would’ve preferred, but there was something quirky and fun about her. I hit the heart without reservation. There was no reason to be picky, after all, when I wasn’t looking for anything serious. I didn’t need to connect with anyone, I wasn’t trying to build a life with them, I just needed to find them attractive enough to spend an evening with and hope they felt the same way about me. Sudden excitement filled me as I realized I was being presented with a chance to work through every fantasy—every type of woman—I’d ever had any interest in.

A knock on my door caused me to jolt, and I laid the phone down, looking up as Gina stuck her head in my office. “Sorry, am I interrupting something?” She looked as though she’d caught me doing something humiliating. Maybe she had.

“No, sorry. I was texting one of my kids. What’s up?”

She laid a stack of papers on my desk, her long brown hair pulled to one side of her shoulders. She pushed the glasses further up on her nose. “Beckman wanted me to bring you this. It’s a new proposal for the Cameron development.”

I sighed, sliding the phone into the top drawer of my desk as Gina took a seat across from me. “We’re thinking the client might approve the budget change if we can get the timeline moved up by two weeks.”

I ran a finger under the top page of the proposal, looking it over again. “It’ll be tight. We were already pushing it to break ground on the twenty-seventh, but maybe I can call in a few favors.”

She grinned with one side of her mouth, her plump lips pushing out as if to say she knew I could do it. Gina was pretty in a sexy librarian sort of way. She wore oversized sweaters and tight pencil skirts, her hair was usually pulled back into a loose ponytail or bun. She was the kind of woman who could get away with a look like that and somehow still appear corporate and professional.

Other coworkers came in with their blouses and pressed black slacks and still managed to look frumpy compared to her. She’d been a partner at the firm for six years, and up until that moment, I’d been allowed to think such things but never to act on them.

The arrangement Ainsley and I had put into place changed the game in ways I had never even thought of. I forced myself to glance back down at the paper. Getting involved with Gina would be a colossal mistake. She worked with me, and the point of the arrangement was to have casual sex, hang out with people randomly, and, ultimately, use it as a way to once again ignite the fire I’d had with my wife. Getting involved with anyone at the office was strictly forbidden.

“So, you think you can, then?” she asked, filling the silence, and I realized we’d been sitting without saying anything for a long time.

“Sorry, yeah,” I blurted out, looking away from her. “I’ll call around and see what I can do. If we can do it, the materials may have to be expedited…” I picked up a pencil from the desk, jotting down notes to myself and estimates as I worked through it all in my head. When I looked up, she was watching me curiously. Had she ever looked at me this way before? Not that I could remember. “Everything okay?”

“I was going to ask you the same thing…”

“Yeah, everything’s fine here.” I chuckled then cleared my throat. “Well, tell Beckman I’ll get to work on this and have a definite answer for him by the end of the day.”

She rapped her knuckles on the desk, something mischievous in her eyes. Maybe I was giving off some weird pheromone because of my new availability. Was that a thing? “Will do.” With that, she stood and walked away from my desk, heading for the door. Normally, I wouldn’t allow myself to stare for long, but I was in such a strange new headspace that I gave in to the indulgence.

When she reached the door, she glanced back at me, her cheeks pinkening as she caught me staring. “Call me if you need anything. I’ll be in my office,” she said, drawing out the words, as if she were waiting for me to say something.

“Thanks, Gina.”

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