It had been raining since the morning, such a rain that wet through the bones and made the world seem smaller, heavier. It ran down the glass windows of the cafe in which Lena Hart was sitting alone and her fingers clutched around a cup of coffee she had forgotten to drink. Outside people were rushing by with umbrellas and intent but she sat frozen in an instant that she had not made ready.
Her telephone was lying on the table face up, and the screen was now dark, but the words she had read a few minutes before still flamed in her head.
Final notice.
Payment overdue.
The legal action will start within a period of seven days.
Seven days. This was all she could leave before the whole thing fell apart.
Lena drew a breath, attempting to even out the panic which was beginning to spring in her breast. She had never thought that she was weak. Practical. The type of woman who would be ahead of time, who would not be dependent on someone to stay alive. Now, however, she was at twenty four, and here she was at bay, with circumstances she could not out work, or out wit herself out of.
Her savings were drained by her medical bills and she could not replace them as fast as they were drained by her mother. The scholarship she was relying on was withdrawn on the basis of a clerical mistake which she was still appealing against. And the little flat where she lived with her mother? It belonged to no-one any more, unless Lena could manage to borrow some amount of money which she could not do.
At the cuteness of it she pressed her lips together and blinked the aching in her eyes. Crying wouldn't fix anything. It never had.
There was a ringing of a bell over the cafe door, and Lena looked up. One of the men entered, shaking his coat of rain. He was a large, broad-shouldered man who exuded quiet authority and people noticed him without having to be pointed out. His negro hair was well-cut, his face clean and cold and his look could not be told as his eyes glanced around the room.
Their eyes looked at each other a second.
Something came into Lena, something strange and inexplainable. She turned her head very nearly at once, saying it did not mean anything. Everyday strangers passed by each other. This one was no different.
She took her bag and was about to take her departure. Wallowing here was not going to make any difference to her. She wanted answers and not sympathy.
Her phone rang once more as she got on her feet.
This time, it wasn't a warning.
It was a call by some unknown number.
Do you have any interest in the proposal?
Her heart skipped. Fingers clenched around the phone.
She knew exactly who it was.
Two days back, she would have done away with the message without even thinking. She had dismissed it as an absurdity, even a curse. It was now all too well that he stood on the verge of losing everything and it felt frighteningly real.
Lena sat back down.
Evelyn Ross, a female, with a calculated politeness and confident speech, had made the proposal. The two had met by a mutual acquaintance, someone Lena hardly knew, but whom she had trusted enough to listen to her. Evelyn had not been frittering away time at small talk.
She had offered Lena a deal.
A relationship. On paper.
Temporary. Controlled. Beneficial to both sides
Nathaniel Ross, the son of Evelyn, was in the middle of it all.
Lena knew enough though she had never seen him. He was prosperous, rich and emotionally detached. A man with expectations and appearances running his life. Evelyn had said that her son required stability, at least some pretence to it, reasons unknown to her.
Lena had laughed at that, and she had thought it was a jest. Who paid a person to act that they were in a relationship?
But Evelyn had not laughed in reply.
Today Lena was looking at the message with her heartbeat increasing. She had vowed never to think of something like that. She needed true love, true intimacy. No business masquerading as love.
But true love would not cover hospital bills. True companionship could not put a roof on the home of her mother.
Her phone buzzed again.
Today we can meet in case you are willing to negotiate the terms.
Lena closed her eyes.
This was not what she expected to be her life. This is not the way she envisioned how her story was to be. Plans were nothing when things never went according to plan.
She wrote back fumblingly.
I'm available.
The answer was delivered nearly immediately.
I'll send you the address.
The Ross house was like a magazine feature, very classy, very modern and very far beyond the reach of the world that Lena was familiar with. She lingered in the gate a little, loosening the strap of her bag and reminding herself to breathe.
You did not come to fall in love, she said to herself decisively. You're here to survive.
Indoors, all was still, smooth, threatening. One of the staff escorted her into an empty sitting room where Evelyn Ross was seated, gracefully with a cup of tea on her lap. She was just like Lena had last seen, elegant, cool, and perfectly serene.
Thou art called Lena, answered Evelyn with a smile. "I'm glad you came."
I did not come to assent, Lena answered, and her voice was firm, though she felt the knot in her stomach. "I came to understand."
"That's reasonable." Evelyn motioned to have her sit down. "And I appreciate honesty."
The conversation lasted almost an hour. About boundaries. About expectations. Concerning the period of the arrangement. Evelyn did not mince words and neither did Lena. The association would be open and well handled. No declarations of love. No emotional entanglements. That was at least the intention.
"And Nathaniel?" Lena asked quietly. "Does he even know about this?"
Evelyn smiled, but only a little. He is aware that I have something to plan. He is ignorant of these details, yet.
That was a shiver along the spine of Lena. "So he hasn't agreed?"
He will, said Evelyn with a certain degree of personal assurance. My son knows how to be responsible.
Lena did not know that she liked the sound of that.
"Why me?" she asked.
Evelyn waited a minute and replied. "Because you're genuine. You're not dazzled by wealth. And since you must have this as much as we have.
The expressions dropped upon them.
"And the compensation?" Hating herself even a little, Lena asked.
Evelyn pushed a piece of paper over the table.
Lena opened it
This number startled her.
It was enough. Enough to clear the debts. Enough to allay the treatment of her mother. Enough to buy time.
It is not charity, Evelyn said sweetly. It is a win-win situation.
Lena closed the folder.
She should have walked away. She knew that. Deep down, there was a silent voice telling her that this decision would alter her life in a manner that she was not even able to anticipate.
But the voice which was raised with fear and responsibility, prevailed.
What will become of one of us... who crosses the line? Lena asked.
Evelyn's gaze sharpened. "Then the arrangement ends."
Simple. Clean. Or so it seemed.
"I'll do it," Lena said.
She could not believe the words that she pronounced.
Evelyn nodded, satisfied. In the evening you shall see Nathaniel.
Tonight.
Lena's heart pounded. She had not been prepared, and now it was too late.
Nathaniel Ross was standing against the floor to ceiling windows of his penthouse apartment observing the lights of the city being flicked to life with the onset of the nightness. He despised surprises, of all those that his mother was fond of working.
A relationship arrangement? He did not like the sound of it already.
The doorbell rang.
He swung about with a closing of the jaw.
Anything his mother had in mind he would be able to make clear that he could not be interested.
What he did not know, what he could have absolutely no idea of was that the woman, who now was going to enter his life would upset all his ideas of control, distance, and the very dangerous potentiality of love.
And in the case of Lena Hart, the first step into that apartment would be the first step in a journey that she never intended to make.
It was never intended to fall in love with him.
And as the elevator bore Lena skyward her mirror was watching her steady on the outer, wavering on the inner. Her shoulders were straightened with a promise to herself that she made silently. Whatever plausible the illusion might have been, she would still recall the purpose of her visit. It was a business, not a fantasy and there was no place of emotion in this