Agreements With Mr Rich Boy | ✓

21 | Work To Be Done

***

As promised, the brown haired beauty appeared at my door not much later in the day. She stepped into my room, immediately motioning for the men she'd brought with her, all in very smart suits, to follow. I held in my surprise, settling myself on my bed as they worked around me.

Within minutes, my whole room was completely rearranged with a large table being propped in the middle of the room, various cutlery and plates being set upon it shortly after.

"Lesson one," she said, gliding over to one of the newly placed chairs and sitting on it. "Eating utensils. You need to know which to use for which meal."

I sat in the sparse chair opposite her, aware of the men leaving out the way they'd come. "There's a difference?"

She regarded me with a look like I'd just killed her cat or worse, confused Chanel with Gucci. "Oh, gosh. This is going to take longer than I thought."

It did, in fact, take longer than she'd thought.

Two hours in, and I still confused myself with the various forks laid out beside me.

"Okay," she sighed, almost at the end of her tether. "Think about it like this, work inwards. So, start with this one." She pointed to the outer pair. "And go forth from there."

"Why didn't we just start with that?"

From there, she told me of how you must never lean across the table to reach something and instead, politely ask those closer to it to pass it to you. And even better, let those attending you do it for you.

"You mean to say I can literally just sit there and do fuck all?" I asked, beginning to like the sound of it.

"Another thing," she said, setting down the napkin she'd been demonstrating how to fold appropriately. "Watch your language."

"Shit, sorry."

I was, well and truly, screwed.

***

The following day, I just had the rules I'd learned yesterday going round and round in my mind, like a mantra I couldn't quite shake. Autumn had been there for hours, right up until lights out was called. It was no wonder her words had sort of been engrained into my mind.

"Hello?" Miles said, waving a hand in front of my face. "Anyone there?"

"What?"

"Were you even listening to my beautiful voice?" He asked, hands on hips. I tried to ignore how much closer the Elite table felt, like they could hear every word. And by Archer's lack of conversation, it wouldn't shock me to know that he was listening in.

"Something about that club? Ice or something?"

He tapped me on my head. "Good girl. Now, are you up for it, tonight? Melissa says the owner is like really, really fit and he'll be there so...?"

"I can't tonight," I told him, scurrying to figure out an excuse that'll avoid having to tell him about Archer.

"Oh, come on!" He said, shaking me. "Free drinks! Fit, rich boys! What's not to love?"

"As fun as that sounds—" I flicked my gaze towards Archer. "I've got things to do."

"Oh my god," he gasped. "You're totally shagging someone. Who is it?"

I choked slightly on my drink. "No, no, nothing like that. I'm just not feeling it tonight."

He seemed a little annoyed, on the verge of being pissed. "Jolie, seriously? It's one night, you'll be missing out on the biggest opening of the year!"

"You guys have fun," I said. "Tell me how it is."

"Fine, whatever." He rose from the breakfast table. "I'm going to my lecture." I watched him go, knowing full well his next lecture wasn't for another few hours.

I held my head in my hands. If it was only day two of the agreement and I was already feeling the strain of it, what would it be like in the weeks to come?

Fuck me.