Page 52 of The Arrangement

Fletcher rose, straightening his jacket. "Nope," he replied, popping the final letter as he grinned at me. "See you tomorrow at seven. She's bringing a couple of friends, and I heard they're hot, so just be excited. Maybe you can hook up with someone who doesn't expect a paycheck afterward."

"Jesus Christ, Fletcher!" I hissed as he laughed his way out of my office and down a blessedly deserted hallway. My phone vibrated in my hand, and my heart rate jumped as I saw Clark's name light up the screen.

Clark: You good for tonight?

I waited; I didn't want to respond too quickly. Or wait too long. Fuck, this was stupid.

Me: Yeah, nine too late for you?

Clark: See you then.

Why was I smiling at my phone? Jesus Christ.

Freshly showered and shaved,I misted cologne over myself. For her, obviously; no one wants to fuck around with a smelly guy. It was just good manners. I checked my phone again—9:05 p.m. I frowned; it wasn't like Clark to be late. If anything, she was obnoxiously on time.

Tossing on a hoodie and sweatpants, I popped another painkiller and rotated my shoulder again, hoping it would kick in before she got here. As I checked my phone for the tenth time, it dinged loudly as her name popped up on my screen.

Clark: Emma asked me to work late. I can't say no; she can't climb the stairs very easily anymore to stock the loft.

I sat staring at my phone, the feeling of nervous anticipation giving way to heavy disappointment as I read and re-read her text. Taking a deep breath, I set my phone down and steepled my hands as I reminded myself this was a business thing. Obviously it was. I was just excited to make more money from the website, that was all. I could just do a solo video; maybe I could switch up locations or something…That was when an idea (a brilliant idea, I might add) popped into my head.

Me: No big, I'll come to you. See you soon.

I didn't bother to read the several incoming text messages that nearly vibrated my phone off of the table as I grabbed an empty box I had been meaning to throw out to recycling days ago and filled it with my camera equipment.

Oh, this would befun.

I sangto some stupid song on the radio the entire way there, my fingers tapping my steering wheel to the beat.

I parked on the street away from any cameras, popped my hood over my head, and tried to look as nonchalant as possible as I made a beeline for the narrow alley between Hemingway's and a smallantique shop. There was just one guy smoking in the alleyway, but he didn’t give me a second look as I kicked the back service entrance with my foot. I blew out a breath and watched it fog up around me as I waited anxiously. Did I not read her texts so she couldn't turn me down?

Yes.

Would I still be a gentleman if she refused?

Absolutely.

Would I be sorely disappointed about this missed opportunity?

Also absolutely.

Suddenly, the door was wrenched open, and a disgruntled Clark stood there, yielding a box blade and I took a hurried step back."What the fuck Clark!?" I hiss-whispered, clutching my box to my chest as I looked between her blade in one hand and her angry expression.

"I told you not to come! Like twenty times!" she hissed right back at me, still not lowering the blade, might I add. My shoulders dropped, and I threw my head back and groaned, "It's cold. Can I at least come in?" It wasn’t that cold, my body was like a heater but a little bit of whining might get me at least inside.

She finally lowered her blade at this point and crossed her arms. "Go home, Quinn!" she shouted, slamming the door. I waited for just a moment, the silence of the fall night seeping into my bones as I stood there, listening to the creaking of the trees of the neighborhood behind me.

Okay, Sebastian, take it like a man.But before I knew it, the door was opening, and Clark was standing there looking a beautiful mix of indecision and arousal as she picked her thumbnail.

"Did you bring the masks, at least?"

A grin pulled at the corner of my mouth, and I motioned to the box in my arms. "Obviously."

She chewed on her bottom lip before looking down the alley and then stepped back to allow me entrance into the warm bookstore.

"I knew you had it in you, Clark."

She rolled her eyes in answer and locked the door behind us. And there we were, standing in the warmth of the bookstore at night, illuminatedonly by the hanging cafe lights that had been strung through the rafters.

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