Chapter 96
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“Really? But who could it be?” Tessa asked, her voice tinged with genuine curiosity. “Your parents have been gone for years, and their old friends have long since moved on. They’ve never even mentioned your parents‘ names in ages. Why would anyone suddenly show up to pay respects?”
Her words struck a nerve.
The idea that people “move on” hit me harder than I expected. I hadn’t noticed their absence in conversations before, but Tessa’s blunt reminder left me feeling unsettled.
“Maybe someone made a mistake, Elaine?” Tessa suggested, trying to offer a logical explanation.
I glanced at the tombstone, its photo and name clear and unmistakable. How could anyone confuse this grave with another? Her words felt like something you’d tell a child to dismiss their worries.
“Maybe,” I agreed, not wanting to continue the conversation.
But I knew it wasn’t a mistake. It wasn’t the Mercer family, nor could it have been Mom and Dad’s old friends.
That bouquet of daisies was suspicious, and I intended to get to the bottom of it.
“Elaine, don’t overthink it. I’ll ask Ethan later if he knows anything or if anyone might have done this,” Tessa reassured me.
“Alright,” I replied.
Before hanging up, she reminded me again to make sure I attended Ethan’s birthday celebration.
Later, I took a photo of the bouquet and posted it on Instagram with the caption: “Whose remembrance could this be?”
Shortly after, Nora called me. I was surprised she had time to check social media in the middle of her busy day.
“What’s going on?” she asked.
After explaining the situation, I murmured, “I just can’t figure out who it could be. It’s so strange.”
Nora, however, had shifted her focus. “Are you seriously going to the Mercer estate? Isn’t that like walking straight into a trap?”
“Not going isn’t really an option,” I admitted. “But at the same time, I’m nervous about what Logan might try to pull.”
“Then you need someone with you,” she said firmly. “A man. Even if things go south, at least you’ll have someone by your side, and it might finally make Logan and the Mercer family back off.” After a pause, she asked, “Has Ashton contacted you?”
“He turned me down,” I said with a sigh.
I went on to tell her about Ashton’s insistence on being a real boyfriend rather than a fake one.
Nora chuckled. “He’s got guts. Why not give him a real chance? Who knows–you might actually fall for him. It could work out for the best.”
I stared blankly out the window. “I’m just not in the right place for that right now, Nora. You know that.”
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Ashton wasn’t someone I could take lightly. If he wanted to pursue a relationship with me, he’d want my full commitment. Playing around with him wasn’t an option.
Nora seemed to understand and didn’t push the issue further. Instead, she voiced her concern.
“So, what are you going to do? Should I come with you? Even if it doesn’t change Logan’s or the Mercers‘ minds, at least I can make sure Logan doesn’t try anything.”
After a few seconds of thought, I replied, “No, I still need to find a man.”
“Exactly,” Nora said immediately. “Then say yes to Ashton already. It’s the obvious solution-”
I cut her off. “Do you know any other men? Set me up with someone. I’ll even pay if I have to.”
“Elaine, you’re unbelievable,” Nora said, stunned by my suggestion.
“It’s the safest option,” I argued. “No strings attached, no messy aftermath.”
My plan seemed flawless to me.
Nora sighed. “I know a few guys, but they’re all serious professionals–doctors. They probably wouldn’t agree unless…”
“Unless what?” I pressed.
“Unless you go on a blind date,” she said. “There’s this trending matchmaker service online. You could look for someone publicly, and it might even save you the trouble of explaining it to the Mercers.”
Her idea sounded ridiculous, but it intrigued me. Maybe a blind date was worth considering.
That evening, I went to a café to meet my blind date. I was halfway through my second cup of coffee when he finally arrived.
To my relief, he wasn’t the stereotypical middle–aged man with a beer belly or a receding hairline. He was well–dressed in a crisp, sky–blue shirt, matching his online profile perfectly.
While I wasn’t “catfished,” his tardiness had left a poor first impression.
Thankfully, I wasn’t looking for a real relationship. I just needed someone to play the part–professiona lly and for a price.
“Sorry I’m late,” he said politely as he took a seat.
“It’s fine,” I replied, cutting straight to the point. “I’m not here for a real date. I’m looking to rent a boyfriend.”
He looked confused for a moment. “Rent a boyfriend?”
“Yes,” I explained. “I don’t want a real relationship right now, but I urgently need someone to play the role of my boyfriend for appearances.”
He fell silent, and I worried I might have offended him. To ease the tension, I quickly added, “Of course, I’ll pay you for your time.”
“You must be pretty well–off,” he remarked, his tone laced with curiosity.
I ignored the comment, though his focus on money irked me slightly. “We can negotiate a daily or monthly rate. What do you think is fair?”
“How much are you willing to pay?” he asked, his expression unreadable. “And is this just for
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< Chapter 96
appearances, or are there… other expectations?”
OMSX 1
His words hinted at experience in similar arrangements. Was I not the first person to approach him like
this?
“It’s just for appearances,” I clarified firmly,
“How do you handle charges for physical contact?” he asked, his tone businesslike,
I chuckled softly, amused by how professional this conversation had become. “You sound like you’ve done this before. What were your previous terms?”
“I was hoping to genuinely meet someone this time,” he said, as though suddenly changing his a pproach.
Was he trying to negotiate for higher fees?
“Let’s stick to business first,” I said with a faint smile. “After we settle this, you can look for your dream girlfriend.”
He hesitated for a moment, then laid out his terms. “For the first seven days, it’s $288 a day, with no physical contact included. If it goes beyond a week, the rate is $4,888 per month, even if you only need me for eight days.”
I raised an eyebrow at his oddly specific pricing,
“Physical contact has separate charges,” he continued. “Holding hands is $48 a day, unlimited. Hugs are $88 a day. Kisses are per instance, but it’s double for tongue kissing.”
I couldn’t help but laugh inwardly at how detailed his terms were. This “profession” was far more profitable than I’d imagined.
“And what about sex?” I asked, half–curious, half–mocking.
He pursed his lips. “That’s $2,888 per instance.”
“You must be making quite an income with these deals,” I commented, my tone a mix of amusement and disbelief.
It struck me that he might have already negotiated similar terms with someone else before meeting me. This wasn’t just a blind date–it was a business opportunity for him.
