Paid For

Chapter 2

Chapter Two

Mason

"You're goingto give yourself a headache if you stare any harder at that screen."

I look up from my computer to see my business partner, Finn, kicked back in one of my chairs, eating a bowl of grapes, not a fucking care in the world.

"We can't all have a Helen to do everything for us. Some of us have to figure out this scheduling shit on our own."

I go back to what I was doing, scowling at my computer screen and trying to make sense of what all these different colors mean for scheduling. It looks like a rainbow exploded on my screen.

"Helen is here to help you, too, but it's not her fault you go through admins faster than you say Go Pack Go." He rolls his eyes like he's the one who has to deal with this mess.

"I like Green Bay. I don't see the problem," I say, ignoring the part where he's right. I do go through admins at a pretty rapid pace.

Finn lucked out with our office assistant, Helen. She's been with us since the beginning and is perfect at everything. Unfortunately, she's only one person, and Finn and I are demanding assholes when it comes to our company. Technically, Helen is his admin, and I have my own. Only I haven't had a steady assistant in years. Normally they either last a few weeks before they quit, or I have to fire them for inappropriate behavior.

It's not that I'm a prude, but the workplace isn't the location for romance. No matter what they say, it's what they want. They think they can entice you with a quick fuck that will maybe grow into something more.

When I hire someone, I expect them to do their job and leave me alone until I need them again. Some of my admins hung around my desk, looking for every little excuse to touch me or get close. It's not that I don't enjoy the company of a woman, it's simply not a priority for me. I can't even remember the last time I went on a date, so it must not have been all that great. The biggest problem with hiring an admin is that we spend so much time together, so feelings can get confused.

One or two of my male admins tried to start something physical with me, thinking that maybe since I rejected women I preferred their attentions. Then the straight ones wanted to become best friends, with hopes of taking over my company or getting some part of it. It's not that I don't like healthy competition, but I don't need my administrative assistant gunning for what's mine. I didn't like having to look over my shoulder or worry about what kind of information they might be stealing.

"You need to loosen up. And I've done something to take care of that." I glance up from my screen to see a shit-eating grin on Finn's face. I know that's not good. Out of the two of us, he's always been the more laid-back. Up for anything. I've had to shut down a few of his crazy ideas before. That said, our being so different is what makes us work so well together.

"I've told you before, I don't like massages. I'm not into strangers touching me," I say, going back to my computer screen. I swear to God, whoever made this scheduling program is the devil.

I would love to loosen up. I hate being the stuck-up asshole friend who never has time to do anything. Our company is very successful, and it's because Finn and I have dedicated every waking hour to it. We started our company when we were in college and we saw a better way to design sports equipment. The two of us were biochemical majors, so we started working with plastics and fibers until we were able to design what we wanted. The University of Michigan ended up buying our first prototypes, and we went into manufacturing full time afterwards. We've made a ton of money, and Forbes called us the future of athletics last year. People have expectations, and I want to not only meet them, but smash them. I like winning. I'm a Packers fan, after all.

Finn has been hounding me for the last year to slow down and enjoy some of our success, but I'm afraid if we do that, someone will step in and take our place. No matter what the market or my best friend tells me, I worry that all this could vanish at any moment. All this hard work could be gone. And for what? A few hours of fun.

I lost my parents in a car accident when I was fifteen. I know all too well how fast things can slip through your fingers, and I don't want to lose our advantage in the market. It seems like every time there's a gap, someone is looking to fill it, and I don't want to be in second place. Our competition regularly comes up with ideas that have clearly been stolen from us, and we continuously have to remind them that we won't be fucked with.

"It's not a massage," Finn says and throws a grape at me.

I catch it with one hand and pop it in my mouth without looking up at him.

"Asshole," he mumbles not so softly. "I can tell you what I've done, or you can thank me and we can call it a day."

This has me looking up at him and glaring. "What did you do?"

"I placed an ad for your new admin. I figured you've got a stick so far up your ass that it's going to take someone special to pull it out."

"Great. But you're not doing the interviews this time." That's how I ended up with half a dozen dudes before. I'm beginning to think Finn did it on purpose. Looks like I'm going to have to do the hiring myself this time.

"No problem. I'm sure you can handle this on your own. I made the pay pretty astronomical, so you should get lots of quality applicants." He wiggles his eyebrows, and I grunt.

"I think the higher the pay, the more idiots show up," I say, leaning back in my chair and crossing my arms.

"Nah. This time, I made sure the ladies coming would be able to meet all your needs."

The way he says that makes me think he's hiring me a prostitute. I shake my head, my annoyance growing. That's all I need, people thinking we're hiring hookers. The papers would have a field day with that shit.

"Finn. What the fuck did you do?"

He stands up and holds his hands out in front of him. "Easy, big fella. I know it's been a long, long, long, long, long time since you got your rocks off. I'm merely offering you an easy solution—a professional who can do her administration job and then...another job. The kind that requires knee pads." He smirks.

"You—" I start to tell him what a fucking dumbass he is, but Helen buzzes my phone. "Yes?" I answer, glaring daggers at Finn.

"Mr. Foster, there is Miss Kennedy Myers here for an interview."

I grit my teeth. I don't have time for this shit today. I've got a laundry list of items to clear off this schedule, and I don't even know how to use the stupid thing.

"Send her in," I say as politely as possible, because it's not Helen's fault Finn got me an escort. Or whatever you call it.

I know it's been a while since I was with a woman, but my hand is a lot less drama when I don't call it back.

"Good luck," he says, winking at me and slipping out the door before I can throw a paperweight at him.

I take a deep breath and try to calm myself. If she's truly a prostitute, this interview should go easy. I'll just ask her if she knows how to use some of the software here and be done with it.

For a split second, I allow my thoughts to drift to having my cock wrapped up in a warm, wet cunt. I feel stirrings between my legs, and then dismiss the idea. No one has caught my eye in years, and the idea is worse than terrible. You can't work with someone you fuck, even if you pay them for both. Right?