Bonds of Attraction (Full Length Erotic Romance Novel) (3 page)

I woke up in the morning, refreshed and
alert. It was still too early to go into work, so I treated myself to another
shower. Afterwards, I ate a light breakfast of fruit and drank two large cups
of strong, black coffee. I drove to work listening to the news, feeling good
about the coming day of work.

I pulled into my parking spot and turned the
car off. I found myself whistling as I opened the door to the office. When
April saw me, I noticed a mild look of surprise flash for a brief instant
before it was replaced with her customary smile.

“Good morning,” I said politely.

“Good morning, Miss Facet,” April replied.
“I’ve put the wedding invitations in the outgoing mail slot. Also, I organized
your client file for today and left it on your desk like you asked. Is there
anything else you’re going to need?”

“That’ll be all for now. I’ll let you know if
anything comes up.” I smiled at her and walked into my office and then stopped,
turning around. “Oh, there is one thing.”

“Yes?”

“You can feel free to put on some music. Your
choice today,” I said warmly.

“Great! Thanks Miss Facet.” We were pretty
much the only two people that were regularly in the office, yet I had never
told April to address me by my first name. In fact, none of the employees
called me by name, despite the size of the business. Not one freelancer or
part-timer called me by anything except Miss Facet. April was our only
full-time employee aside from me and she had been here almost from the
beginning.

“You’re welcome.”

I left my office door open and sat down at
the desk. I opened the folder before me and read through it quickly. Female,
early thirties, looking for Mr. Right. He must be: attractive,
health-conscious, sensitive but not overly sensitive, upper-middle class,
athletic, spiritual but not fanatically religious, into traveling, looking to
get married, and ready for kids in the next three to five years. The only
things she forgot to add was that he must have a big package and slay dragons
in his free time. Also, if she happens to eat a poison apple, his kiss will
bring her back from the dead.

I tossed the client folder back onto my desk,
not needing to read any further. Her expectations for a partner were beyond
realistic, but luckily for her, most men were completely unrealistic when they
described themselves. She’d be easy to pair with just about any professional in
his early to late thirties who was a tad obsessive about going to the gym and
only ate kale and boiled chicken. They’d marry quickly and for a few years,
maybe even a decade, they’d believe themselves happy and in love. The fantasy
would be nice, for a while.

The office phone rang above the music. April
paused the music mid-song and answered the phone politely. I was checking my
phone and not paying much attention to the conversation when she peeked her
head into my office.

“Miss Facet?”

“Yes, April. What is it?”

“Well, it’s a gentleman on the phone who
wants to speak with you directly.”

I sighed. “I take it you told him that we
always book free consultations first and that I don’t do phone interviews?”

“Yes, Miss Facet. But he was insistent. He
said that if you speak with him, he’ll pay you whatever you charge for an hour
and that the phone call won’t take nearly that long.”

“Fine, you take down his credit card info and
bill him for an hour. You tell him that if we go over an hour, he gets billed
for an additional hour, even if it’s only ten seconds. Once the charge clears,
you can transfer him into my office.”

I checked my emails while April did her thing.
I often dealt with very wealthy clients who were willing to pay to break the
rules, whether it was calling me on my personal cell phone or insisting on
meeting during non-office hours. It tended to add up to a substantial amount. I
usually used the money to give bonuses to the employees at Christmas. Last year
I was able to buy entirely new computers in addition to handing out the
bonuses. It’d been a good, but annoying, year.

April leaned her head in my office again and
gave me a thumbs up. I waved my hand to signal her to transfer the call and she
patched him through. My phone rang silently, as I had it setup to do, and I
picked up after the second ring.

“Hello, this is Julie Facet.”

“Hey Julie, my name is Stills. I’m not
calling for myself. I’m calling on behalf of my best friend.”

I sighed. This also happened more times than I
cared for. People would call up on behalf of their friends, wanting to sign
them up for my services. Sometimes it was a Christmas present or a birthday
present. Twice, it was a present for the anniversary of a divorce.

It typically didn’t go well. The person the
gift was intended for was either so surprised that they were embarrassed that
their friends would think they needed a “dating service”, to which I repeatedly
told them I wasn’t some cheap service for getting a person laid, or they were
downright offended. I had learned the hard way that when it comes to
matchmaking, the person has to volunteer himself. No exceptions.

“Stills, let me interrupt you here. I’m
sorry, but it’s company policy that we only deal directly with the client who
is going to use our services. We don’t sell gift cards for our services and I
don’t take on anybody who doesn’t directly hire me. Have your friend call me,
then I can begin offering him my services.”

Stills was not to be deterred. “Julie,” he
said, pausing to correct himself. “Miss Facet, your services come highly
recommended from more than a few of my friends. A few of my happily married
friends. I know all about your company. You produce amazing results and I’ve
seen it for myself. My buddy needs your help, and honestly, he’s a little
embarrassed to call. I work for him, so I offered to call to, you know, scope
it out for him.”

“I’m really sorry but—”

“Look, just meet him, tonight. I’ll pay you. I
know you don’t come cheap. But I’ll give you a twenty percent advance on your
fee if you just meet him tonight. It’ll be an hour out of your day. You can
come down to the club, meet with Leon, and have a free drink. Even if you don’t
end up working with him, you’ll get paid just for coming down for a free
drink.”

I considered it for a minute.

“Okay, I’ll transfer you to my secretary
after our discussion and she’ll handle your deposit. You’re fully aware that if
this doesn’t work out tonight, you lose your deposit?”

“Yes, no problemo. I’m positive it’ll go
well.”

“Okay, Stills. Tell me about your friend.”

“His name is Leon Christensen.” The name
sounded vaguely familiar, but I couldn’t put a name to the face. “He owns a
chain of clubs. I’m the manager of them, and him and I go way back. Leon comes
from old money, but you know, I wasn’t nearly as lucky. But Leon is the best
guy I know, and that’s why I need you. He’s been in and out of relationships so
quickly that it’s almost as if he’s sabotaging himself. If you could help him
figure out what he’s doing wrong and find him the perfect match, that would be
incredible.”

I considered it for a moment. It wouldn’t
have been the first time I took on a case that took a little bit of attitude
adjustment on the client’s part.

“Come down to The Nova, it’s Leon’s Beverly
Hills club. Can you meet him there tonight, maybe around six or so, before we
open for the public?”

I scanned the calendar on my computer and saw
that I was free. “Yes, that’ll work for me. I’ll be there at six on the dot. At
seven, I leave. I’ll let you know when I leave whether I take his case or not.”

“Perfect!”

I transferred him to April and she took his
deposit. It was an easy assignment, and if it worked out, I’d have another
client. If it didn’t work out, I’d have a significant paycheck for doing
relatively little work. While I was always a little annoyed by the rich and their
proclivity to not abide by rules, it always worked out in my bank account’s
favor.

The day passed quickly and I left the office
before April to go home and get ready. I was neither anxious nor excited. It
was just another contract that was waiting to be signed or not signed.

I pulled up to the club at ten to six and a
man, who I assumed was Stills, was waiting outside, talking with a bouncer. He
spotted my car and flagged an employee over. I pulled over to the curb in front
of the club and got out of my car. The valet Stills had flagged over smiled and
bowed slightly to me before getting in my car to park it.

The club was impressive. Even from the
outside, the building was very elegant. The sign out front was neither tacky
nor covered with fluorescent lights which screamed that a rave was going on
inside.

I looked at Stills. He was much younger than
I expected. His hair was the whitest blond that I’d ever seen on a man. Bulging
muscles stretched his expensive suit skin-tight. When he shook my hand, his
hand was rough and his fingers were as thick as sausages. His grip was firm,
but he didn’t crush my hand with his shake. When he smiled, his face lit up
with friendly warmth that made him look like a young teenager.

“Thank you for coming, Miss Facet,” Stills
said genuinely. He smiled. I noticed that his neck was a tree trunk atop his
shoulders.

“You’re welcome, shall we go inside and meet
with Mr. Christensen?”

He led me inside. It was just as nice inside
as it was outside. The club was practically empty. There were no customers,
only staff preparing for the night ahead. The tables were all arranged neatly
and the bar was clean and stylish. It was an upscale club. I admired the decor
and sat down at a table that Stills led me to, pulling out a chair for me. I
had to admit that I liked this club; I could even see myself coming here and
enjoying it.

Stills ran off to get me a gin martini, extra
dirty. When I looked over the bar, I noticed that he was behind the bar,
personally making my drink. I smiled.

“You’re a little early. We’re not open yet.
But for you, I suppose I can make an exception.”

I looked up at the man. He must be Leon
Christensen. I was immediately stricken with the thought that this man was much
better looking than I had imagined him in my head. His features were sharp, his
jaw chiseled and masculine. His cocoa colored hair hung just above his eyes and
ears, appearing as though it was haphazardly styled, but I recognized that it
was just too perfectly sloppy. His sapphire eyes studied me, waiting for my
response.

I stood up to shake his hand and I realized
that Leon Christensen towered over me. He was lean, but when he took my hand,
it was a firm grip. His smile was wide and showed a set of perfect teeth, but
it was a smile that was also too perfect, as though he had rehearsed it. It was
a movie-star smile.

“You must be Leon Christensen.”

He lifted my hand and kissed it gently,
eyeing me as he did so.

“And you must be my company for tonight,” he
said flirtatiously.

I took my hand back politely, suppressing the
strong desire to roll my eyes at him. I was a professional, and I merely gave
him a professional smile. I knew how to deal with flirtatious men without
coming off as cold or belittling; it came with the territory. Yet I looked at
Leon a little longer than I had ever looked at any other client.

If only we had met in the gym last night, I
thought quickly. I pushed it out of my mind and regained my composure.

“Please, Mr. Christensen, let’s have a seat
and get started with your profile.”

He raised a hand to his chin and studied me
as though he were Sherlock Holmes and this was a murder mystery. I imagined a
tobacco pipe in his other hand and I had to stifle the urge to laugh out loud.

“What do you mean, profile? Is this for some
kind of news article or some blog?”

Stills returned and handed me the gin
martini. I thanked him politely and he averted his gaze. I could see how
uncomfortable he was standing there and I turned back to Leon. It was clear
that Stills had not informed Leon that he had hired me for my services.

“I’m Julie Facet. I run Facet Matchmaking
Services. Your friend, Stills, has hired me to provide my services to you. The
first stage of that is to get a complete profile of you.”

Leon crossed his arms and leaned back on his
leg, studying me with a look of increasing annoyance. I could see the anger
grow in his face and soon a line cut across his forehead and pushed his
eyebrows down.