The Contract; A Billionaire Romance (18+)

ONE

Odessa

When my parents passed down the name Odessa Love, it felt like one of the first cruel acts they did to me. Love was a concept foreign to them during my childhood. The name I carry now feels like a burden, as love has become something I believe I will never experience.

Right now is a cruel reminder of how futile my search is as I sit with a slight buzz from downing my tequila. I know I shouldn't drown my pathetic suffering in booze while I try to entertain a man who begged for a chance, but I can't help it.

"So, do you have any family?" I ask with a tight-lipped smile, desperate to keep the conversation going since it seems I'm the only one who's trying.

I might as well be talking to myself at this point.

"Yeah," He answers with a growing smile that stretches across his otherwise handsome features. This is the first he's opened up about something; maybe we're getting somewhere.

I tried music; he doesn't listen to anything. Favorite movie? Not a movie guy. Favorite type of food? Not picky, he'll eat anything.

I'm grasping at straws at this point.

He's not my usual type with his blond hair and baby-like face, but I've exhausted my options. I don't want to admit it, but I know it in my bones.

I've become desperate.

I'm chasing a high that I'll never reach.

I'm longing for some sort of non-platonic connection, something to fill the void that my mother carved from my chest the moment she told me she never loved me and I'm the reason my father left us behind.

This is my third date in the last month, and all have amounted to nothing. Online dating sucks ass, and I'm about to delete every app on my phone and throw it over the coastal cliff side and into the ocean.

He suddenly speaks more words than he has the entire night with, dare I say it, a twinkle in his eye. "My parents live out east, and my sister lives just thirty minutes from here. My parents are great, but my sister is the one you gotta worry about. If we continue dating, she'll be the hardest one to win over, but the most important. She's never been much of a fan of my girlfriends—not even my ex-wife."

Wow, that's sure a lot to unpack. I almost wish he kept his mouth shut. I take a lengthy sip of my margarita as I sit back, readjusting the neckline of my dress since his eyes seem to gravitate to what's beneath.

"You were married? That's the first I've heard of this."

Translation: That's definitely something you should have told me in the weeks of talking, leading up to this date I finally agreed to.

"Yeah, the divorce was finalized two months ago. She was just too crazy for my liking, you know? Jasmine kept warning me she was, but I just didn't listen. My sister always seems to be right." He takes a sip of his IPA, and I smell his beer breath that's hot on my face as he lets out a laugh. I hold back a gag and try my best to hide the disgust from my face.

This was a fucking mistake, and I should have known this man was a red flag from just his name: Harold. That's an old person's name. Who looks at a baby and thinks, "I'm going to call you Harold"? I didn't want to seem shallow, so I gave him a chance, and now I believe his soulmate is his sister, and no one can truly live up to her spotlight. I don't want to spend my life fighting for his attention against his sister. A chill falls down my spine at the thought.