Page 15 of Wildest Desire

“Yes, I would like the Spaghetti Bolognese and a glass of red wine, please.” Ms. Jackie gives him a smile.

“The chicken pasta and red wine too, thank you.” Ethan doesn’t even look at the waiter.

I look up at the waiter, “Can—”

“She will have the same.” Ethan takes the menu from me and hands it to the waiter.

I look at Ms. Jackie, and she gives me a nod. “No, I would like the chicken Caesar salad with a Dr. Pepper, please.” I turn back to Ms. Jackie with a smile.

Who does he think he's ordering my food like that? I take out my notepad and the stack of papers and put them on the table. Ms. Jackie takes out her copy of the papers as well.

“We'll eat first,” Ethan says, looking away from his phone. I watch Ms. Jackie put her papers back in her bag. “If you could excuse me.” Ethan walks away from the table, answering his phone.

“See?” I whisper-shout at Ms. Jackie. “This is what he was like when I had dinner with him, and this is what he will be like every day.” I look over my shoulder to see if he's coming back.

“He's not always like that. Give him some time. I bet you can open him up and he won’t be—”

“An asshole,” I finish her sentence for her. I look around again and see him walking back over to us. “One month. If he hasn’t changed by then, I’m out,” I say, leaning back in my chair.

Ethan sits down as our order arrives, but I don’t acknowledge him as I start eating my food. I can already tell this is going to be a long lunch.

* * *

“Lexi, do you want to go first?” Ms. Jackie asks. “I won’t live with you, I'll keep my car, I'll keep my clients, and you’ll give me at least a day’s notice when you need me with you.” I look up at Ms. Jackie.

“One client, keep the car, you will live with me, and since you're living with me, I don’t need to give you notice.” He writes something down in his folder.

“I won’t live with you, and one client? You’re joking, right? And what do you mean by exclusive? How long are you planning on keeping me as your call girl?” I bite back.

“You're lucky that I’m agreeing to share you with one client. I won’t share you with any other bastard out there.” I’m a little taken back with his answer. “If I had it my way, you would be mine and no one would be able to touch you.”

“Yeah, you made that very clear at the bar,” I tell him.

“You’re lucky I didn’t hit him, and I’ve changed my mind—no client.” Ethan looks at the waiter placing his wine on the table.

I look at Ms. Jackie in shock, “You’re joking, right?” I ask waving my hand at him.

Ms. Jackie shakes her head. “Lexi, I love you like a daughter, you know I do, but I have already signed it so you have no choice but to work with him. You’ll just have to find a middle ground.” It’s almost like she’s begging me to do this, but not giving me an explanation.

Looking at her face, I know she needs me to do this, but I wish I knew why? Can I do this? Have no clients but him? No dates? God, I’ve missed sex.

“If I agree to no other clients, then I’m allowed to date.” I look at Ethan.

“I would rather you have neither, but I'll allow you one client. At least I know they won’t have sex with you,” he bites back in a most hateful way.

“I need a timeline,” I say, grabbing my drink. I need to know how long I’ll be living in hell.

“At least a year,” he replies as he continues typing on his phone.

Does he even want me? I mean, he can’t even look at me to answer a simple fucking question.

I start laughing. “A year? You're joking, right? Don’t get me wrong, you’re a good-looking man.” He's so fucking sexy that it’s a real shame he has such an ugly personality. “You must have women dying to date you. Can you go a year without sex?” I ask. I’m not shy about having this conversation with Ms. Jackie here.

He tilts his head, slowly bringing his eyes to me. It’s the first time since I got here that he finally looks at me. “Don’t worry about me,” he tells me with his devilish smile on display.

Shaking my head, I lean back in my chair. I know he wants more from me. Why else would he care if I have sex or not? I know he won’t come right out and say it to me either, and if I asked him he would laugh it off and make me look like an idiot. So, if this is a game he wants to play, we’ll play.

“One client—Mr. Williams. I live in my own home and I want a day’s notice about when I need to be with you. Plus, I get one day to myself. If I’m away with a client on my scheduled day off, then I get a different day free. How will you present me? As a girlfriend, a lover, or what?” This is giving me a headache.

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