Page 3 of A Practical Arrangement

With quick steps, I weave through the thick crowd and dash into the revolving door onto the sidewalk. The loud thrum of bustling traffic does nothing to drown out the buzzing thoughts in my panicked mind. How on earth will I pay for school? And where will I live?

Lacking the funds to take a cab, I rummage through my purse for my beaten-up metro card and thank God that there’s station across the street. My best friend, Gale, spent most of last night attempting to bolster my courage and build my confidence, fearing I wouldn’t have the nerve to accuse my thieving father of stealing my trust fund. On my way here, she insisted on an immediate update, and I promised I’d swing by her place when I was done.

As I approach the crosswalk, the sounds of traffic and chatter fade into the background as a man’s voice calls out my name. “Ella? Ella!”

I stop in my tracks and turn from side to side, searching for the source of the familiar voice. Suddenly, a man appears at my side, his hand landing heavily on my shoulder. Startled, I take a step back, wary of this stranger who seems to know me so well. It takes me a moment to recognize him as Grant Whitlock's brother, but even that realization doesn't ease my discomfort. I nod once, silently acknowledging his question, before pointing to the pedestrian signal and quickly walking away. His presence gives me an uneasy feeling in the pit of my stomach, like something isn't quite right about him.

My hurried steps echo on the sidewalk as I rush toward the station, barely acknowledging the man whose name I can’t remember. His strange persistence makes me uncomfortable,which only worsens when he practically shoves a card in my face. Startled, I stop short and stumble over my own feet, nearly falling to the ground. "Excuse me?" I snap, waving his hand away with annoyance.

“Forgive me. We met upstairs. I’m Gareth Whitlock and I wanted to give you this—it’s an invitation to a secret club I think you might enjoy. It’s a great place to meet people.” Gareth attempts to sound seductive or flirtatious, but sounds smug instead.

Unwilling to argue or read him the riot act for assuming I’m the kind of girl who would show her face at a secret club, I tuck the card in my bag and reply as I walk away. “Thank you. I better run.”

“I’ll see you there!”

I hear his grating voice as I descend the stairs into the station. I can’t believe they’re brothers. Mr. Whitlock seems like such a gentleman. I have a hunch he’s the kind of man who’s too shy to undress in front of others.Or maybe that’s me.What the hell do I know anyway? I laugh to myself and dash through the turnstile, slipping into the train moments before the sliding doors close.

As I gather my thoughts and rummage through my chaotic mind, I fish out Gareth's card from my bag, expecting a tacky business card with his phone number and a lame pickup line. "Secret Garden?" I blurt out, causing the nearby group of men to turn their attention toward me. Their lecherous grins make me squirm, so I quickly cover my chest with my purse, hoping to block their hungry gazes.

“Are you a member?” One of the men, a stereotypical-looking stockbroker bro leans forward, his peppermint breath far too close for comfort.

I shake my head and answer as I look away with an air of judgment. “No, I’m not.” Since when do strangers discuss thesethings on public transportation? Unfortunately, my reply does nothing to deter his inquisition.

“You should drop by. It’s a great place to meet interesting people.” The strange but unusually handsome man repeats what appears to be the club’s tagline and hands me another card embossed with the words The Secret Garden.

I stuff it in my purse and rise to stride toward the doors. My stop is coming up and it’s best if I get away from him as quickly as possible.

“Look forward to seeing you there. My name is Aiden. And you are?” The man’s sudden change in tone almost convinces me to spill the beans, but I've watched enough true crime documentaries to know better than to trust a potential stalker.

“I'm at my stop.” Without giving away my name, I bolt through the train doors and weave through a sea of people, blending in like a ninja. It's as if the whole city has gone mad. Luckily, I have some serious speed and Gale's apartment is only two blocks away. I just pray she buzzes me in quickly enough before anyone notices me. Before I hit the buzzer, I do a quick scan for any suspicious-looking characters behind me and breathe a sigh of relief when I see none.

“Is that you? What took you so long?” Gale's voice booms through the intercom.

“It's me! Let me in!” I holler back.

She's never going to believe the day I’ve had today.

Chapter 4

Ella

With determination etchedon her face, Gale declares, "If this place truly exists, we're going. I’ve heard rumors, but always thought it was an urban myth." She holds the two cards in her hand, examining them with fierce intensity. “Two cards from two different men must be some sort of sign, Ella. It’s meant to be.”

Her fingers lightly caress them as her eyes widen with wonder, as if they hold the secrets to the universe. Turning them over and over, she scrutinizes every detail, running her fingers over the embossed letters and symbols. She even brings one to her nose, inhaling deeply to assess its authenticity. “My cousin’s best friend, I don’t remember her name, told her she met a hot sugar daddy at a place like this. I assumed she was lying, but maybe she wasn’t. Don’t you want your very own sugar daddy? Maybe he’ll pay for your school and apartment!” Gale hops in place, enthusiasm dripping from every pore.

My jaw drops as I look at my usually levelheaded friend. "A sugar daddy? Have we just entered an alternate universe?" I scoff and dramatically roll my eyes. "There is absolutely no way I've held out this long for sex just to hand over my V-card to a wrinkly old man with deep pockets.” I dramatically fling myselfonto her tiny twin bed and roll back and forth in a fit of agitation. "This is not the solution to my problems!" I exclaim, feeling like a drama queen. The looming threat of getting kicked out of my dorm hangs over me like a storm cloud, while my parents choose to remain blissfully oblivious.

“I’ve got news for you. Most chicks do not look back at their first time with stars in their eyes. Guys our age are clumsy and notoriously clueless about foreplay, clits, and G-spots. If you’re going to lose it anyway, you might as well get something out of it. An older man knows what he’s doing, and a rich one will lavish you with gifts.” Gale plops down next to me, and nods as if she’s speaking from experience.

“Did you read that in a fortune cookie? We both know your love life is nonexistent. And you're older than me by a whole year, which means your V-card has probably started collecting cobwebs.” I cackle and toss her stuffed unicorn at her face. “Quit playing around. I need a foolproof strategy that doesn't involve selling my body. My Aunt Stella has offered to take me in. She despises my mother and has an extra room. The only catch is, she lives in Nantucket.”

Gale jumps to her feet in a flurry of movement, her arms flailing with panic. "Nantucket? You can't possibly move so far!" she exclaims, her voice filled with worry. She rushes over to me on her bunny slippers, offering a solution. "Stay here with me until you get back on your feet. I know my place is tiny, but we'll make it work. I'll get a futon, and we can rearrange the furniture." Her determined gaze scans the cluttered space, calculating how to fit another bed.

I sigh and run my hand through my hair, feeling guilty for burdening her. "I appreciate it, Gale, but I don't want to put you in this position. I'm currently jobless and who knows when I'll find one that pays beyond a ramen noodle budget."

We both stand in silence for a moment, lost in our thoughts. Then I straighten her comforter and grab my bag. "I better start packing," I say with a heavy heart. "As much as I'm dreading leaving school and the city, it's best not to wait until the last minute."

“Hold the phone! I forbid you to leave until we concoct a brilliant scheme that doesn’t include freaking Nantucket. Between school and work, I'll never get to see you!” Gale jumps in front of me and blocks the exit. “Do me a solid and consider this Secret Garden joint. What's the worst that could happen? Even if it’s a wash and we don’t leave with one of those steamy arrangements, we can still paint the town red one more time before you disappear into the wilds of Massachusetts. Come back for dinner and I'll whip up something extra special. We’ll try on outfits and call my cousin to find out more about her friend’s relationship. Surely there are some rules to these arrangements. Don't tell me you're not even a little bit curious about it?”

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