“Just a standard contract. I’ve removed the compensation part since this is being done pro-bono, but I still need it for the files. Just look it over and sign the line on the third page.”
“Okay,” Day managed, trying to quell the sudden panic arching through his blood like lightning. He glanced down at the page, hands shaking as he pretended to peruse the contract, uncertain if he seemed to be reading too fast or too slow. Most of the words and sentences were as jumbled as hieroglyphics. He understood some words simply by sight, but most made little sense to him.
“You’re so stupid, Dayton.”
He shook the voice away, slowly looking through each page before finally signing on the bottom line with a mad squiggle that looked like it was done by a child. When he finished, he handed the pages back, tilting his chin up to look Jackson in the eyes. He refused to be ashamed. He might not be able to read, but he got by just fine.
“You might be the first person who ever read this contract,” Jackson said with a deep rumble of a laugh. “Most people just sign their lives away.”
“My life is mine, but for you, Daddy, the rest is definitely negotiable,” Day said with a wink.
Jackson stood, coming around to lean on the desk beside Day’s chair. “You can call me Jackson,” he said, a slight warning to his tone.
Day sat forward, pressing his elbow to the chair arm so he could prop his chin on his hand. “You’re no fun.” He pouted.
Jackson shoved his hands in the pockets of his track pants, bending at the waist so he was hovering close enough for Day to feel his breath. “I’m lots of fun, Hollywood. But a word of warning. Don’t call me Daddy unless you mean it.”
Day was positive his heart stopped, his dick hardening in his much too tight jeans. Before he could think of a comeback, Jackson was gone, walking to the copier, presumably to give Day a copy of their contract. What if Day did mean it?Fuck.
Day couldn’t think about that. He couldn’t think about anything but working. He needed to keep up his hustle if he eventually wanted to make enough money to get out of this industry and out of that town. He’d made a promise to Sarah, but this wasn’t what she would have wanted for him, and he just wasn’t talented enough to be famous for anything other than his body. Sarah had been the talent. Day had always been the sidekick. He’d give anything to be able to be Sarah’s sidekick once more.
Sadness overwhelmed him. He clicked his phone on, checking how many likes and comments he’d gotten on his Instagram story. He smiled when he noted that Wyatt had tagged himself and shared it to his Twitter. That was guaranteed to bring more people to his social media and his OnlyFans accounts.
Day spent the next several minutes losing himself to scrolling, not sure what else to do. Jackson had disappeared into the big conference room with all the other beefy looking security guys. Even Wyatt was in the room, sitting on a chair in the corner, legs criss crossed, as he tapped away on his phone. Day wondered if he was texting the big guy running the meeting because every few seconds the man would look at his phone and then give Wyatt a dirty look, which only seemed to amuse Wyatt.
Day longed for a relationship like that. He couldn’t imagine what it would feel like to be with somebody who loved him no matter what. Not some sappy greeting card love with hearts and rainbows and flowery speeches about unconditional love, but the ride-or-die love you have through cancer and missing limbs and fifty pounds of stress eating or finding out you didn’t qualify for a lung transplant… That kind of love. But Day didn’t think that kind of love was real. It was just some gimmick used to sell Hallmark movies. Real relationships came with all kinds of conditions, and Day didn’t think he’d ever find somebody willing to overlook his many, many flaws.
“You ready to go, Hollywood?”
Day dropped his phone as Jackson’s voice boomed from behind his shoulder. “Uh, yeah. Sure.”
Day turned to find Jackson wearing aviator sunglasses and holding a pair of keys with the Mercedes emblem on them. Day kept a death grip on his phone as he followed Jackson to the elevators, feeling like the entire office watched them both depart. Maybe it was just because Jackson was the boss. Day snuck another look at him where he leaned against the back panel of the elevator, ankles crossed as he stared straight ahead. Well, at least, Day thought he did. It was hard to tell with his dark lenses.
As they exited the elevator, Jackson’s hand settled at the small of Day’s back, warmth seeping through the layers of denim, making goosebumps rise along his skin. He led Day to a brand new Mercedes sedan, opening the passenger door for Day. “Thank you,” he mumbled.
Jackson closed the door before walking around to slide gracefully into the driver’s seat. “Seatbelt.”
Day followed Jackson’s command without thought. The engine purred as Jackson turned on the car with the touch of a button. A woman’s voice spilled from the speakers, and it took Day a moment to realize it was a book on tape. The woman had a crisp, melodic tone to her speech, reminding him a bit of Mary Poppins. Jackson went to turn it down, but Day reached out and gripped his wrist. Jackson stared at Day’s hand, and he quickly removed it. “Sorry,” he muttered. “I… You can listen if you want to. I-I like it.”
Jackson examined his face for what seemed like an hour before he gave a single nod. “Alright. I’ll start it over. We have a long drive ahead.”
Day gave him a smirk. “It’s LA. All drives are long.”
“You’re not wrong.”
“I rarely am,” Day said in a singsong voice, flushing when he earned another smile from Jackson. He had perfect teeth. He had perfect everything if Day was being honest.
“So, we need to discuss some ground rules.”
Day’s smirk disappeared, and he cut his eyes to Jackson. “Excuse me?”
“No strangers in my house. You can still perform your nightly shows, but you perform alone.”
Day bristled at his tone. “As opposed to the thousands of men I usually let parade in and out of my bed?” he asked, tone snippy.
Jackson raised his hand in a placating gesture. “I didn’t say all that. Jimmy said you were auctioning off your virginity. I don’t know when you were planning on picking a winner, but it won’t be while you’re on my watch.”
“Look at you, guarding my purity,” Day said, deadpan. “And they say chivalry is dead.”
