His heart stopped.
A woman was smiling out of the picture, her warm brown eyes crinkling with mirth at the corners. She was leaning on a railing besides the ocean. A breeze tousled her chocolate brown curls. Her soft, plush red lips were parted to show pearl white teeth with an endearing little gap in front. The wind had tugged the collar of her blouse aside, revealing the smooth, tan skin of her shoulder, the hint of a tan line beginning just where the picture cut off.
Samuel found himself smiling helplessly back at the woman's cheerful grin. After all of that perfectly crafted fake perfection, the woman's natural beauty was like a breath of fresh air. The little imperfections that would have been airbrushed out of all these other professional pictures only made her seem more real. Now if only he could find what envelope the picture had come from… Oh, thank god, there was a name on the back of it.
Theresa McKenzie.
Samuel hunted through the pile of envelopes, shoving letters off his desk by the dozen in his haste. Finally he found Theresa's letter, slightly crumpled around the edges. When he opened the envelope, a second picture fell out. Samuel carefully smoothed it out on his desk. It showed Theresa in a bathing suit that strained to contain the lush curves of her breasts and her soft rounded hips. She was sitting on a rock by the ocean, beaming at the photographer.
Never in his entire life had Samuel wanted to touch a woman so badly. He carefully unfolded her letter.
Dear Lonely Bachelor, he read. Your ad has caught my attention…
He smiled at the slightly stilted politeness of the opening, which sounded like an awkward cross between a response to a dating ad and the start of a cover letter for a job. He pictured her sitting at her desk, thinking too hard about what to say.
I'm a librarian in Clarksburg, Illinois.
A librarian? Samuel paused, confused. How had a librarian ended up answering his ad? Escorts, actresses, people who made a living with their beauty, sure, that made sense. But a librarian? The rest of the letter didn't go into much more detail, but it did mention the times she'd be available. Samuel opened his phone and blocked off 10 days in his calendar, starting with her first available day.
This was probably still a terrible idea. He didn't care. Just the thought that she'd be willing to meet with him made his heart race. He couldn't wait.
***
It was only 200 miles from Clarksburg to Chicago, but traffic and construction turned the drive into a 6-hour slog. Theresa dropped her head back against the headrest, letting out an exhausted sigh. Thank God she'd planned in a lot of extra time. Tonight she was going to meet her anonymous bachelor for the first time. She still couldn't believe he'd picked her over all the people that must have replied to his ad. And she still didn't even know his name.
The email she'd gotten had told her to come to an office in downtown Chicago at 6 pm. She figured that sounded safe enough. There should still be plenty of people around the area that time of day. She'd be told his name once she signed the non-disclosure agreement, which had been emailed to her in advance.
'In case you want to have it reviewed by your lawyer,' the email had said.
Not that Theresa could afford a lawyer right now. Every cent of money she could spare had gone to Carolyn for her first payment to the Grigorieff brothers. The contract was 5 pages of dense legalese. As far as she could tell, it came down to the fact that if she breathed one word to anyone of anything she saw in the time she'd spend with her mysterious bachelor, or even mentioned his name to anyone, they could sue her for so much money her grandchildren's grandchildren would still be bankrupt. It had only made her more nervous. What on Earth did he want from her that he was so intent on keeping it secret?
But she wasn't going to say no. If she wanted to make sure Carolyn was safe, she needed the money.
She left her car in parking lot downtown, wincing at the price. She could have taken public transport and left the car outside the city, where they didn't gouge an arm and a leg for parking. But if anything went wrong, she might have to get out of here quickly. She felt better with her car nearby.
The office was in an enormous building that seemed to house more than a dozen different companies, so that didn't tell her anything new about who she was going to meet. Office 131 had a discreet plaque on the door. Jackson and Bourne, attorneys at law, it said. She knocked on the door, which unlocked with a buzz.
"Come on in," a man called.
He rose from behind his desk when she entered.
"Ms. McKenzie? It's good to meet you."
If this was her mysterious bachelor, he'd underestimated his age in the ad by a full three decades at the very least. This man was 60 if he was a day.
"Hello," Theresa said cautiously.
"I'm Roald Jackson. Our client has asked me to review the paperwork with you."