The Fidelity World_Nondisclosure Read online

  “You headed out again?” David asked.

  David had graciously offered the spare room in the penthouse apartment he shared with his girlfriend of six months, Evelyn Gaynes. That was a marathon event for my friend, who burned through women with nearly the speed and veracity as me.

  He and I’d met during our time at Oxford and spent our Uni years carousing the pubs and making headlines. One of the few true friends in my life, he cared nothing about who I was, only that we had somehow managed to form an indescribable fraternal bond.

  Edmund might be my brother, but he was a pompous ass and huge stick in the mud. He lorded his birth over me—a constant reminder that he would be king and I would not. It was a palpable force holding us apart. He spilled my secrets to our mother and capitalized on my failures to hide his own indiscretions. My brother was far from a saint.

  With David, I could let down the facade get pissed and have a gas, or shoot the shit, as Americans called it. There was no jockeying for position or vying over Mum’s closely guarded love. With David, I could be the real me.

  The private elevator dinged, and the doors slid open to reveal the captivating mystery that was Evelyn Gaynes. The mysterious woman remained a frustrating unknown. I couldn’t figure her out. She was the only woman David seemed to be sleeping with, which made her even more of a puzzle. My friend had settled down.

  David was a self-made man, so I never expected he would wind up with only one woman. And I’d asked what was so special about her. I’d stuck my nose in it and wound up frustrated by their secretive smiles and furtive glances. Whatever it was, they weren’t telling me, which only fueled my curiosity.

  “Why don’t you come with me?” I asked, trying yet again to get David to join me.

  He refused to join my nights on the town unless Evelyn came along.

  “You two heading out?” Evelyn asked. Her low heels clicked on the Egyptian marble as she approached David.

  Leaning down, she gave him a languorous kiss while he shamelessly palmed her ass.

  “Not if you don’t want to,” he said. “We can kick His Royal Highness out for the night and have some fun.”

  “Hmm,” she said, her tone low and sensuous. “Now, that sounds like fun, but I have bad news for you, my love, though good news for HRH Richard.”

  She turned and beamed her megawatt smile. Tall and willowy thin, she had the body of a runway model and the brains of a neurosurgeon, which made sense since she was on the faculty at New York-Presbyterian Weill Cornell Medical Center. The woman was wicked smart. What she was doing with David boggled my mind.

  “Please stop with all the HRH crap,” I begged.

  But they wouldn’t. Evidently, I was fun to tease and the butt of all their jokes. Having a prince crashing in their place was hilarious as shit to these two. I had a flat, but I hated the emptiness.

  “Let me slip out of my scrubs,” Evelyn said. “We have a function to attend.”

  “Of course, dear,” David said.

  “You really have a thing for her,” I said once she was out of earshot.

  His cheeks bowed with an honest smile. “You calling me pussy-whipped?”

  “Odd phrase and not what I was going to say. I guess I don’t understand.”

  “Understand what?”

  “What happened to you?”

  “Nothing happened—or rather, something unexpected happened.”

  “You should tell me about it.” I jabbed my thumb in the direction of their bedroom. “I’d kill to have what the two of you share.”

  “You’re a damn prince, Richard. All you have to do is snap your fingers, and hundreds of eligible bachelorettes will come running.”

  I sighed in exasperation. “That, my friend, is the problem.”

  “How so?”

  “A woman in my bed is too easily found. I want more substance.”

  He pointed back down the hall. “I’ve found more.”

  “How? You might have been my wingman at Uni, but you suck at it now. If you have a secret, you owe it to me to share.”

  His left brow winged up. “Really? Because I don’t think you could handle having only one woman.”

  “I’m not looking for the one.” I didn’t believe in love. I couldn’t afford to, not with my mother’s machinations in play back home.

  “Then, what are you looking for?”

  With a shrug, I paced the room. “I don’t know.” Moving to the bar, I poured a finger of whiskey. “My forever doesn’t exist. My mother has made it perfectly clear that I’ll marry whomever she approves and none other, but I would give my left nut for my right now.”

  “Is that so?”

  I shrugged, realizing how lonely my life had become. It was true though. I could have a new woman in my bed every night, but a mindless shag no longer held any appeal. Even less after watching what David and Evelyn shared.

  “Is the whole a-prince-can-only-marry-another-royal thing true?” David asked.

  “It’s not.”

  The whiskey burned as it slid down my throat. Damn, it tasted good. I poured another two fingers, knowing I’d need to loosen up before heading out. Evelyn’s functions could be interesting affairs, but they were generally well attended by an eclectic crowd. I never knew if we’d be surrounded by doctors, benefactors of the hospital, or a group of artists. Given a choice of heading out alone or being the third wheel to David and Evelyn, it was a no-brainer that I’d go with them.

  “I can marry anyone I choose, if I have permission from the Queen,” I explained. “It would be helpful if she wasn’t Catholic, but other than that, who I can and can’t marry isn’t tied to their royal lineage. In this, dear old Mum has me over a barrel.”

  “That sucks. So, you can basically fall madly in love and propose to a girl, but your mother could say no? Is that for real?”

  “Unfortunately.”

  Evelyn returned, wearing a tight-fitting black dress. Basic in design, it was nonetheless stunning on the redhead.

  David rose from the couch. “You know, maybe your forever isn’t something you can control, but you can have your right now.”

  I scoffed at his comment, and he arched a brow in return.

  “You think I’m kidding?” He gestured at Evelyn as she busied herself at the bar, pouring a glass of merlot. “I have an idea.”

  “You do?”

  David had never once steered me wrong. He could be a trickster at times, but when it came to the important things, he was a straight shooter.

  “I know exactly what you need,” he asserted. “Let me ask Evelyn.”

  I had no idea why we needed to bring her into this discussion, but he valued her opinion, and therefore, I did, too. I was willing to play along.

  What I wanted was something uniquely mine, a woman who belonged to me body and soul, who wasn’t afraid to explore darker desires, and who wasn’t intimidated by the privilege of my birth. Mostly, I needed someone with whom I could lower my defenses and come out from behind all the walls and the decorum my birth demanded. I needed something true, honest, and real. Above all, I needed something that would never make it into the press. I didn’t know if it was possible to have that level of trust with another person. My forever might always be out of my grasp.

  “I’m game,” I said. “You tell me what you think you know, and I’ll give it a go.”

  “Evelyn,” David called, “I think he’s ready to hear about Infidelity.”

  “Infidelity?” That didn’t sound like anything I’d be interested in. In fact, it sounded exactly the opposite. “Um, I’m looking to keep a low profile. I don’t need to give Mum any reason to be yanking me back home.”

  Evelyn sipped her wine. “Oh, Richard, just wait while I explain the wonder that is Infidelity.”

  Chapter 6: Opportunity

  Rowan

  I stared at Patrick after he gave me this spiel about a secret, word-of-mouth, backdoor company that basically sold sex. My mouth gaped, and a strangled sound escaped into t
he space between us.

  “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me!” I shouted.

  Not my finest moment, and my words struck Patrick like a slap in the face. He recoiled as my indignation rose. I was surprised there wasn’t steam shooting out of the top of my head.

  He grabbed my elbow and tried to get me to lower my voice, but I yanked out of his grip and prepared another volley of expletives. I drew stares from the pedestrians rushing by. In New York, people didn’t make eye contact, but they found my tirade interesting enough to gawk.

  Patrick tried to soothe me and pulled me out of the stream of traffic. “It’s not what you think, Rowan.” He used my name to get my attention, but I was beyond listening.

  “You want me to become a whore?” My screech turned more than a few heads.

  One guy even slowed down, twisting his neck in passing to give me a hard once-over from tits to ass.

  “You’re not listening,” Patrick said, tugging me off the sidewalk and into a small alley.

  The alley smelled funny, and the walls bowed inward, blocking out nearly all light as they practically touched far overhead. I didn’t want to be here, but I didn’t want to be surrounded by the press of humanity passing on the sidewalks either.

  Patrick cupped my chin and squeezed my cheeks like I was some recalcitrant six-year-old. “Infidelity is not that kind of company.”

  “But you said—”

  “You didn’t let me finish.”

  My mind struggled to process everything, but I kept getting stuck on getting paid to be someone’s companion.

  “And you work for them?”

  “I do.”

  I gulped with that knowledge. Why does he need to get paid to be someone’s companion? “And you trade sex for money?”

  “That’s not what Infidelity is about,” he asserted.

  He released me and leaned against the rough brick wall opposite me. I shook like a leaf. His eyes softened, and warmth returned, reminding me that he was my friend. He wouldn’t have told me about Infidelity if he didn’t think they could help.

  “Then, what is it about?” I asked, more curious than I should be. “Because, no matter how you spin it, that’s exactly what it sounds like.”

  He ran his hand through his hair and vented a deep sigh. “Let me try to explain. Promise you’ll let me try?”

  “I don’t really know if that is for me.”

  “It might not be, and there’s an intake process. There’s no guarantee they would accept you. Even if selected, there’s a chance of never getting paired with a client, but you said you’d do anything, and this could solve your problems. One year. That’s all you said you needed. Now, you can do anything for a year. Right?”

  Sell my body? My integrity? My soul?

  My insides twisted in revulsion. I’d told Henry I wouldn’t sell myself, and I’d run from an unwanted marriage that could have solved my problems. That would have been a lifetime commitment, but this? Maybe Patrick’s solution would be more palatable. I didn’t know, but desperation drove me to find out more.

  “Then, explain it because I sure as hell don’t understand.”

  “Take sex out of the equation for a minute, and let me use an analogy.”

  “Okay.” But I didn’t think any explanation would make a difference.

  “When a man and woman date, there are expectations placed upon each party as the relationship progresses. If you follow the stereotype to its logical conclusion, the couple marries, but what happens along that path is what I want you to consider. When dating, there’s a belief intimacy will follow—whether it’s hand-holding, kissing, groping, or sex. The man pays for that privilege by paying for dinners and entertainment. All Infidelity does is turn the intricacies of social dating into a business arrangement, one which is mutually beneficial to both parties.”

  “Still sounds like selling your body, and I don’t think I agree with your statement that the man pays for the privilege of sex.”

  “When exactly is sex expected these days?”

  I didn’t have an answer because I hadn’t dated in nearly two years, but my friends did. “I don’t know.” Except I did. Most of my friends had said sex was expected by the third date.

  He nodded. “How many guys do you think stop dating a girl if she doesn’t put out? I’ll tell you, they pay and expect to play.”

  “You make it sound cheap. When did you become so jaded?”

  “When I realized I was gay and saw how easily men traded sex in dirty bathrooms and back alleys. That scene wasn’t for me. I wanted something more.”

  That was something I could agree on. More—whatever that nebulous more might be. It was my unicorn. I’d never experienced love. I doubted I’d every really experienced passion, but I envied those who had.

  “Not every contract negotiated by Infidelity winds up in a sexual relationship.”

  “Really?” My brows pulled together as I considered, and that churning in my stomach eased just a bit.

  “See, this is where you need to understand what Infidelity is, what they do, and how they accomplish their goals.”

  “Then, break it down for me because I still don’t get it.”

  “Imagine a gentleman who, for various reasons, has tired of the dating game, or maybe he’s looking for simple companionship. Maybe he doesn’t want to date but needs a companion for social functions. Maybe he’s been burned by scandal and seeks to simplify how his needs are met. There are many reasons clients seek out Infidelity.”

  “We’re talking only single men?”

  “Well, the name is Infidelity. They cater to a wide range of clientele. Some are single. Some are married. And some are women.”

  “That’s horrible.” I crossed my arms and kicked a heel over my opposite foot. “The married part.” Mirroring Patrick’s pose, I leaned against the bricks behind me.

  “Is it? Say a man is in a marriage that doesn’t fulfill his needs, sexual or otherwise. He wants a circumspect partner, a time-limited engagement, and no drama. He could be single, too. Maybe he’s a wealthy man, tired of women trying to get at his money, and all he wants is a little companionship. He’s not looking for a woman anxious to become his wife. Infidelity’s clients are the kind of people who don’t want their private business broadcast to the world. They seek discretion above all else. No scandals. That’s in the contract, too. They want a clean exit. The contract runs out, and the relationship ends, drama-free. Contracts keep things neat. Each person goes in knowing what is and isn’t expected. And, as far as being a glorified pimping service, Infidelity has that covered.”

  “How?” The whole setup made way more sense than it should, which meant I might very well be considering it.

  “They only pair an employee once. There’s no revolving door where an employee is matched with multiple clients. You can see why this would be important?”

  I thought back to the blue bloods of Savannah and our very exclusive social circle. “I guess it could be awkward if the same woman kept being passed around.”

  He snorted. “Exactly.”

  “And the same goes for the clients? Or do they get to keep paying because that would still make Infidelity a skin broker.”

  “They’re limited as well, but as paying clients, Infidelity gives them two chances. If the first contract doesn’t work, they initiate a second pairing. If the client is dissatisfied after that, the relationship between Infidelity and the client is terminated.”

  “If you enter an agreement and things don’t work out, you can leave?”

  “No, the agreement is for one year.”

  “How can they guarantee you won’t hate each other?”

  “Again, this is the brilliance of Infidelity. Their client satisfaction scores are exceptionally high. There are grounds for terminating a contract, but those fall under issues of physical abuse. Like I said, they’re selling companionship, not sex. You’re becoming a bona fide couple, in private and in public. Couples have good days and bad days.
Sex is merely a fringe benefit both parties enjoy. Infidelity won’t force you to have sex, but it’s on the table.”

  “That’s crazy.”

  “They have the whole matching system down. I’m telling you, the intake interview is exhausting and doesn’t guarantee you’ll be placed with a client. They only match individuals they believe will make a successful couple. They even pay for the intake interview.”

  “How much?” I couldn’t believe that question had left my mouth.

  “Five thousand.”

  “That isn’t even a drop in the bucket for what I need.”

  Five thousand would buy one more month. My excitement waned.

  “Of course not. But, for some, it’s enough of an incentive to apply. I wouldn’t have mentioned Infidelity if I didn’t think it wasn’t a viable solution for you.”

  “It won’t work. I have to think about my future, and that hinges on completing my degree and landing a job that ensures I’d have enough money to pay Freddy’s costs for life. And I have to make a living for myself as well.”

  “But that’s the thing.” His voice rose with excitement. Pushing off from the wall, he came to me. Clasping my hands in his, he gave them a squeeze. “You can have both.”

  “How?”

  “You specify your requirements. Infidelity understands most people can’t stop their lives. They realize you have a life you’ll be returning to at the end of the contract. This is a word-of-mouth company. It’s in their best interests to have exceptionally satisfied clients and employees with nothing but rave compliments about the company. I made sure I could continue with my studies and listed it as one of my hard limits.”

  “You did?”

  “I was a student when I applied, and I specified that not only would I need the time and freedom to finish my degree, but also that the contract wouldn’t prohibit me from working afterward.”

  “Where are you in your contract?”

  “Cy and I are finishing up our second year.”

  Everyone knew Patrick Fitzgerald had come out of the closet, but I’d had no idea he’d been seeing someone—or rather, had been paid to be seeing someone. Wrapping my head around the concept was not easy.