I guess I had sort of misconstrued his flirtations as a joke. I’d thought he just liked messing with me, but I guess he’d been a little more serious about that wholewanting to fuckthing than I’d originally thought. And okay, yeah, he was always texting me and asking other people about me and trying to be wherever I was at. And he had been kind of weirdly jealous and possessiveat that party, and insistent that he didn’t want me hooking up with or eventhinkingabout other guys…
Shit. Was I stupid?
“Well, that’s your opinion,” he said. “My opinion is that your presence is incredibly vital to the continued wellbeing of my spawn.”
“Okay.” What the hell was I supposed to say to that? But at least my stomach wasn’t thrashing with nerves anymore. I was pretty sure if he thought I was keeping Caelyx in line, even if I wasn’t sure I agreed with him, he probably wasn’t interested in taking out a hit on me.
“In the spirit of transparency, Aspen, I’ll be clear in that I’ve done my research on you as well.”
“… Research?”
“I have access to your college transcripts, your family history, your medical history. Your work schedule,” he tacked on, as a secondary thought. I guessed that explained why he’d known when to be waiting outside the café for me.
“My medical history?” I deadpanned. “Am I supposed to be embarrassed about that or something? Because I’m not.” I was proud of my medical history. In terms of my family history, well… I didn’t want to get into any of that at the moment.
Shaking his head, he raised his palms up to me in a gesture of peace to contrast with my irritated question.
“Ah, ah, ah,” he tsked at me in a somewhat infuriatingly condescending manner. This guy was most definitely responsible for half of Caelyx’s genes. “There’s no need to be defensive. I have no issues whatsoever with any aspect of your identity.” When I only continued to stare at him, unimpressed, he went on. “I’ve always been consistent in ensuring that Vane Corporation is committed to DEI, and I’ve practiced the same beliefs in my personal life. I never cared that Caelyx is bisexual, and I don’t care that you’re transgender.”
That was something, I supposed.
“Isn’t looking at transcripts and medical records and stuff, like, illegal?” I finally asked, to which he chuckled.
“Is it?” He wondered, and I didn’t need any further explanation. It was, but stuff like privacy laws were for us peasants slumming it down here on Earth, not for the important rich people living up in their cloud palaces. “At any rate, Aspen, the fact that you and my son aren’t in any sort of defined romantic relationship is precisely the reason why I’m here.”
“I… Don’t follow,” I admitted, then watched him pull out his phone and fiddle with it for a moment before putting it down on the table and pushing it toward me. There was a money transfer app open on the screen, and the field to fill out the transfer amount was empty.
“Why don’t you start by deciding how much you think is fair, and we can negotiate from there,” he suggested, and all I could do was blink.
“For what?” I asked incredulously.
“For you to date my son. Exclusively,” he added. “Once we settle on an amount, I can have a preliminary contract drawn up for you to peruse. Of course you’re welcome to have it looked at by a lawyer of your choosing, which I’m happy to cover the cost of. In terms of the-”
“H-hold on,” I said, shaking my head like I could clear it of the fog that had suddenly settled over it. “You’re saying you want to pay me to date Caelyx.”
“I understand dating can be a subjective term, but we can iron out the details later. In essence, yes.”
“This is a joke, right?” I couldn’t help but ask. Obviously I was being recorded by some viral prank channel or something, because what he was saying was too insane to be real.
“It’s absolutely not a joke,” he assured me, very seriously. “You have to understand how important Caelyx’s continuededucation and development is for me. He is my only child. I want nothing more than to pass the fortune I’ve acquired to him once I’m gone, but I can’t, in good conscience, do that unless he shows me that he won’t squander it and destroy the empire I’ve built. In order to ensure that, I need you to continue to… Motivate him,” he decided on the word.
Because the presence of his phone with the blank money field on it was making me feel incredibly itchy, I pushed it back toward him.
“No,” I said quickly. “No, I can’t do that. Absolutely not,” I finished.
It was funny, I’d always dreamed of some over the top scenario where I’d just fall into the lap of luxury and never have to worry about money again. My mom wouldn’t have to worry about making rent, and I could get her into a good rehab program for her alcoholism. My older sister’s kid could go to any college they wanted. And I’d never have to sit in a dark house wondering when the electricity would come back on, or avoid the eyes of the women at the food bank as we shuffled through the line. But now that it was in front of me, the idea of taking it made me feel sick.
“What’s the problem?” He wondered, and I could only scoff.
“Oh, I don’t know, my fuckingsoul?” I pointed out. He frowned at my response, leaning back into his seat again. “Look, I’m sorry, but I just can’t. I mean, Jesus, if somebody did that to me, I’d be…” Humiliated. I couldn’t pretend I didn’t think Caelyx’s ego could use a little knock to bring it down now and then, but this was beyond anything he could ever deserve.
“So your issue isn’t the ethical dilemma of being paid to date someone, your issue is with how Caelyx would feel if he discovered that you were being compensated for a relationship with him,” Faulkner determined, his eyebrows raising a bit. “That’s interesting.”
“W-whatever,” I snapped, embarrassed. “I’m not the fucking devil, alright? I couldn’t do that to someone.” When he only continued to stare at me, I cleared my throat. “And anyway, god, do you seriously think that lowly of him? You don’t need to pay anyone to go out with Caelyx. People come to the café and basically throw themselves over the counter at him.”
“I’m aware of that,” he acknowledged. “We’re not talking about them. We’re talking about you. And as adorable as I find your empathy on the matter, I’m afraid again, I must insist.”
The change in his tone alerted me that he was, once again, deadly serious. My throat was suddenly dry, so I took another big swallow of my Coke.
