"What do I need?"
"What will money buy you? This money. What are you looking for? We all have needs, we're all looking for something. What do you think all of this will solve?"
I frown as I study him, wondering why he's getting all philosophical.
"Is this some kind of test? Find out if I'm spending it on drugs or something?"
I expect him to laugh but he doesn't. "I'm being serious."
Well okay then. "I don't know," I say after a beat. "I'm working paycheck to paycheck. I have nothing in my savings. I feel like I'm just … surviving. Not living. I want to have enough money, or just some money, so that I can live for a while."
"You mean not work?"
"No … I want to work. I just … "
"You don't want the job you have anymore. You want to do something else."
What is he, a mind reader? I rub my lips together. Definitely need some more lip gloss.
"You can tell me, you know," he says. "Will is my friend but whatever you tell me, I'll keep to myself. I know you don't believe me but I don't kiss and tell."
Yeah right!
He reads the look on my face. "Okay, so sometimes I do. But whatever is between us, I'll keep between us. You have my word, Alyssa. It's good for something."
I sigh, not willing to trust him yet. "I just need money."
I can tell he's not satisfied with that answer but he lets it go. "Well, don't we all. But we haven't even started negotiating yet. What if it's not enough? What if it's more than enough?"
"We'll find out soon then, won't we."
The drive from my apartment in East Van to the restaurant is long, especially during rush hour. I wish I could say it was easy and comfortable between Emmett and I but I would be lying. All I could think about was his hands on the steering wheel and how they felt to grip me–strong, assertive and yet desperate. His fresh, herbal scent didn't help either, it just added to the growing sexual tension between us. How on earth was this even going to work? I mean, really. What the hell was I doing?
But once we arrive at the seafood restaurant, things get down to business.
Emmett takes my arm like a gentleman–even though I know he's anything but–and leads me toward the entrance where a tall, slim woman is waiting near the hostess desk.
Once she sees us together, she gets up, a big smile on her face.
Fuck. This must be Autumn.
She is absolutely gorgeous. Dressed in a short white shift dress that shows off her bronzed limbs and gleaming golden hair. Teeth as white and straight as a toothpaste commercial (gotta be veneers). Minimal makeup and a scattering of freckles across her nose. A fuchsia, velvet Gucci tucked under her arm.
In my flowy black maxi with flutter sleeves, my cheap sandals and straw clutch, I feel frumpy as hell. Any progress I thought I made earlier with my makeup and hair has suddenly evaporated next to this Giselle Bündchen clone.
They've got to be screwing. In fact, as I see them both together, they look like a match-made in heaven, the Canadian version of Brangelina, pre-crazy break-up.
"Autumn, this is Alyssa," Emmett says to her.
"So nice to meet you!" she exclaims and damn it, she has that throaty sex voice too.
"Likewise," I lie. Okay, I'm already being unfair about this woman and I just met her. I have to remind myself to give her a chance.
The hostess takes us over to a table, situated in a low-lit corner by the windows overlooking the water. The place isn't overly swanky but from the fact that I recognize a hockey player and a news anchor, I know it's got to be expensive.
Both Autumn and Emmett sit across from me at the table and suddenly I feel like I'm being inspected like a prize cow.
While Emmett takes care of the ordering, getting a bottle of wine for the table and some kind of tataki appetizers, Autumn studies me with bright eyes. I can just tell this whole idea is some form of entertainment for her, that Emmett and I are puppets on a string.
"So, Alyssa," she says, folding her hands in front of her. Long slender fingers adorned with sparkling rings. "I'm sure you have many questions for us about the whole deal and we're here to answer them all to help you make the best decision possible."
I glance at Emmett while she's saying this. He's watching me, rather warily I might add, and I realize he has no real idea what I might say or do.
"Okay. I've only heard it from Emmett so let's hear it from you," I tell her. I was prepared for her to give me a speech but instead I just barrel on and throw questions at her. "How the hell do you think him dating me is going help his career? Do you really think people care that much about who he dates, enough that it influences the work that he does? He's a grown man … well, a grown man-child," Emmett frowns, "and I would think his own personal life should have no bearing on his professional one. I guess I just don't get any of this. How is it so important that you'd be willing to spend money on someone like me?"