The rate for his services was high. His quality was high. His acting skills were good enough that he could be a completely different person, and you'd never know.
However, the role he was least comfortable playing was Oliver.
Oliver Addams was a b...
I'm left standing there looking dumbstruck in front of the most beautiful home I have ever seen. The hottest man in the world said I looked better in my pictures and turned my brain to mush.
Any coherent thought I had been able to form before his comment had been completely obliterated.
I am by no means bad-looking. I had the same tan skin I always had. The sunkissed tone of my skin made it seem as though I spent most of my time outside, when in fact, I was all but allergic to the outdoors. I didn't mind strolling the streets to get to the café across from where I stayed when I wasn't at a job. But other than that, I liked the indoors.
My eyes were still closely resembling a shamrock in color, and I have been told on multiple occasions that my eyes are captivating.
While my hair is currently a little long and out-of-control, it was fluffy. And who doesn't love that?
Height wise I was nothing to write to record books about. Standing at roughly five foot five inches, I was often mistaken for a teenager. However, the shortness was something most men loved. It made them feel superior.
So, in conclusion, Cal is just an asshole. A hot asshole but an asshole nonetheless.
This man had a net worth of 23.4 billion dollars. Ranking him just above Forrest Mars Jr., who sits at number 57 on the world's top 100 billionaires list. I suppose if he wants to call me subpar, he's more than welcome too. As long as I got paid, Cal could call me a straight, white, whore and it wouldn't phase me.
I regained my composure and followed Cal into the house. The interior was just as exquisite as the exterior.
The oak doors open to show a foyer with wood flooring that is a shade lighter than that of the door. On the left side of the room, there is a spiraling staircase leading to the second floor. This level is partially visible through a balcony. From the platform, I'm sure you'd be able to see both the foyer and the large window in the front of the mansion. A common type seems to be wood and white. Almost everything is made out of one of these two materials.
"Close your mouth. You look like a dead fish," Cal says. He's leaning against a chest-table type thing that sits against the right wall, holding a glass of what I assume is brandy, based on the color. It could also be whiskey. On this same wall is a set of double doors that looks like it would lead to a kitchen.
"You're a bit rude," I grumble.
Cal sets the drink down on the table and walks over to me. Out of the corner of my eye, I can see the chauffeur carrying my bags up the spiral staircase.
For the second time today, Cal grabs my chin, forcing my face closer to his. "Darling, for the next five years, I own you. If I wanted you strip down and kneel in this foyer for the next hour, that's what you'd do." He leaned in close. "Because, until this date in five years, you're mine," Cal whispers.
Despite the words, he's saying, my stomach flutters with butterflies. It must be the husky tone in which his words come out. The slight raspy quality his voice holds. My face flushed a deep red as he released my chin.
"Got it?"
I nod.
"That's not an answer," Cal says, looking annoyed as he crosses his arms across his chest.
"Yes," I mumble.
"I'll be using you for appearances. And if you do a better job in bed than you do at respecting me, you'll be in my room at least once a week." Cal pauses to look me up and down. "If not more. For now, do whatever you want. If I need you, I'll have Dessa come get you." Cal made a motion with his hand, which appeared to be his way of waving me off. And with that, he walks away into another room, leaving me standing in his foyer, a bit confused and a bit horny from the look he gave me.
A woman tapped me on my shoulder. Her bright red hair was tied up in a bun on top of her head. It seemed that the bow was secured with a black ribbon.
Her uniform was a black dress with white a white-collar and a white apron. I was a little surprised it wasn't a TikTok maid costume because that was what I had become accustomed to seeing.
"You're room's upstairs. I'll show you." She starts up the stairs, and I don't realize I'm not moving until she turns around and says, "Are you coming?"
"Oh, I'm sorry." A blush of embarrassment coats my cheeks.
The woman doesn't reply. Instead, she continues to climb the stairs. She looks to be in her early 40's. She's shorter than me, meaning she's probably about 5'2" or 5'3".
We turn in the direction opposite of balcony, and the hall takes a sharp right turn to lead to a long hallway. She walks for a bit, and I follow in silence.
I've never felt this way when starting a job before. Usually, it's just wild sex the first night, or on occasion, it's the customer laying out the rules and expectations they have for me. It's never been them throwing insults at. In fact, I don't think I've been actually insulted since highschool.
Ah, those were the days. Although I don't miss the feeling of always being on the verge of suicide.
"This is your room." The woman pushes open a door.
"Thank you, Miss..." I trail off, giving her an invitation for her to supply me with her name.
"Kristy." She looks taken aback that I would ask for her name.
"Thank you, Kristy."
Kristy smiles and leaves me standing in a room that is so clean I'm sure if I should touch anything.
The bed is covered with a black comforter, and since everything is so clean, I almost don't want to mess it up.
Still, I put my things in the drawers. I place my personal items in random places to make the room feel more like me.
Within minutes of me starting to watch tv on the now not-so-perfect bed, a woman steps into the room. "Mr. Hendrix would like to see you now, Mr. Addams."
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