Clark's POV

I stare at the phone on my desk, my frustration mounting with each ring. Reluctantly, I snatch it up just before it goes to voicemail. "What now?"

"Clark, there's an emergency board meeting in five minutes. Stop what you're doing and get down here."

The line dies before I can open my mouth to respond.

My grandfather, Jameson Ashford, is the founder and former CEO of Ashford Technologies. He only reaches out when the shit is about to hit the fan, or when he needs me to clean up someone's mess.

Resisting the urge to rub the gathering tension in my temples, I place the phone back on the receiver and push away from my desk.

It's ridiculous, honestly. Our company was once the best in tech, but now we're losing investors left and right because of my grandfather's insatiable need to outpace our rivals by launching a costly new project every quarter. Despite me being the new CEO, it's an open secret that my grandfather still pulls the strings behind closed doors. An issue I've yet to remedy.

Let's get this over with. Suppressing a yawn, I exit the elevator and head for the boardroom.

I don't waste time making small talk with any of the board members. I take my usual seat near the head of the table, offering my grandfather a simple nod as we briefly lock eyes.

"Getting straight into it—the risks we've been taking this year have almost bled us dry financially," he announces. "The good news is that I have a proposal that may reverse the damage that has been done."

I struggle to keep from rolling my eyes. His proposals to fix the issues he causes rarely end well.

"Our potential lifeline is Ava Holmes," he reveals. "She's been making waves in the renewable energy sector, and I believe our Project Terra will pique her interest a great deal."

I scoff. "Since she hit billionaire status, it's almost impossible to book a meeting with her."

"True. But fortunately for us, an exclusive opportunity has fallen on our laps. I got word that Ava and her wife are hosting an exclusive couple's retreat for business leaders and their partners. So my plan is simple." He smirks, looking directly at me. "You need to attend the retreat and win Ava over. Convince her to invest in us before our company goes to shit by the end of next year."

"Wait. Win her over? I hope you don't mean romantically," I laugh before I can stop myself. "Because we all know I don't swing that way. Besides, I'm single. I can't go on this retreat."

"That's an easy fix, Clark. Simply find someone to join you, and together, you will make this work." He scrubs at his beard, and his right eye twitches, a tell he's stressed. "Registration for the retreat ends today. Spots are limited and everyone is expected to leave by Friday. I already put your name down. You should be receiving information about the next steps via email."

"No!" I stand. "This is completely absurd. I won't do it."

"Calm down," he commands in a firm tone, also moving to stand. "The retreat is a week-long event. All you have to do is pull Ava aside a few times, perhaps connect over the struggles you've faced while being queer in this industry, and then introduce Project Terra—"

"No." I slam my hand down on the table. "My decision is final."

The board members exchange uneasy glances, unintentionally caught in the crossfire.

"You need to see the bigger picture, Clark. Our company is dying!" he shouts. "Ava's time is precious. She needs to see action before handing over any money. If you make a personal connection and show her how our company's values align with hers, then you'll be golden!"

"Let me get this straight. You're seriously suggesting that I drag some random stranger into this, exploit my sexuality, and then sprinkle in a few lies all for the benefit of this company?" I ask him point-blank. "That's really what you want me to do?"

He's quiet for a moment. I bet the thoughts in his head are churning faster than mine.

"When I stepped down because of my health, I secured the votes you needed to become the next CEO of this company. You promised to do whatever it took to keep us on top. Are you now going back on that promise, Clark?"

Goddamn it. There goes the guilt-tripping. The peer pressure. The fear of becoming a failure to the person who has given me everything...

So fuck my feelings, right? Fuck how much I value my privacy. Fuck the fact I've never stepped out publicly with a lover before. I've purposely kept that part of myself tucked away from the prying eyes of the media because it wasn't their goddamn business to know who I'm sleeping with. But now everyone will know. Fuck, this is such a mess.

But nothing I didn't sign up for.

"I understand the severity of our situation," I grumble, hoping the angry tremor in my voice goes unnoticed. "And I will consider your damn proposal."

The room exhales collectively while my stomach plummets for the third time.

Ashford Technologies is a company that has owned much of my adult life. I don't want to see it crumble, but I can't stop thinking how far is too far? When is enough, enough?

The rest of the meeting goes by in a blur.

When my grandfather finally dismisses us, I leave the room without looking back.

***

A few hours later, I enter Hudson's Kitchen and slide into a secluded booth at the back of the restaurant, sending out a quick text.

Fifteen minutes later, the owner and my best friend strides over with my favorite meal in hand.

"Those eye bags are getting serious, man." Oliver teases. He puts his dirty blonde hair up into a bun before taking the seat across from me, stealing a few fries off my plate. "Let me guess. Another bad day at the office?"

"Basically." I manage a weak smile before diving into the details of my grandfather's plan. "... it still feels disgusting to even think about it."

"Look, I know he helped raise you and everything, but your grandfather is an asshole," Oliver says, and I don't object. "Still, given how you feel about that damn company, we all know you're going to that retreat."

"I—"

"But it doesn't mean you have to be completely miserable while you're there. I mean, when was the last time you held a conversation with someone who wasn't one of your employees? And I'm talking a normal, casual conversation?"

I remain silent.

"Exactly. And when was the last time you went out on a date?" At my scowl, he raises his hands in mock surrender. "You've been working non-stop since you became CEO, Clark. You need a break like this! All you have to do is talk business to strangers, which you're great at, and then network your ass off with Ava. You can do this without feeling gross."

"Since you have all the answers, where the hell do you suggest I find a date for this retreat that's happening forty-eight hours from now?" I chuckle dryly, swirling my drink. "It's not like I can go out on the street and ask a stranger to come with me."

"Actually..."

"Oh, God. I shouldn't have said anything."

"Shut up and listen," he laughs. "I have a solution, but don't judge me, okay? Dating is hard." Oliver fishes out his cell phone and starts typing. "Remember Emily? The girl I brought to my sister's wedding? Well, I met her through Rent a Partner."

I almost choke on a bite of my burger. "Rent a... who?"

"Don't fucking judge," he repeats with a laugh and slides me his phone to view the app. "You essentially pay someone to spend time with you. If you need a temporary companion for your sister's wedding like me, or in your case, you need a last-minute date for a high-profile event, you can sign up for the service and tell them about your situation."

"And then what?" I ask.

"After you get approved to set up your profile, you can browse and request a Partner directly, or you can ask to be matched with one. And before you ask—all forms of sexual contact are prohibited."

"Interesting."

"I can help you get set up," Oliver says a little too excitedly as I pass his phone back. "It'll only take a few minutes. But you might have to pay extra since you need a date at such short notice."

"Fuck it. Let's do it." Pushed solely by desperation, I give Oliver my cell phone. "How easy is it to delete your profile afterward?"

"All it takes is the push of a button."

"Good. I can't have anyone finding out I've stooped this low."

By the time I finish my meal, Oliver has my profile up and running. I try hard to keep an open mind while scrolling through the different profiles. Most of the Partners are either too young, their personality too dry, or their interests don't align with mine.

After thirty minutes of fruitless browsing, I'm ready to delete my profile and call it a day.

"You're being too picky," Oliver says. "And thinking way too hard about this."

"I don't know. Maybe this was a bad..."

My words trail off when my eyes lock on the profile picture of E. Barnes, a twenty-six-year-old man with a playful smile and pearly white teeth. My eyes roam over his About Me section for a second time. He calls himself an ambitious entrepreneur and business owner, so we'll at least be able to talk business and hopefully avoid any awkward silence.

He's handsome as hell, but in truth, that word doesn't do him justice at all. He's clean shaven with short black hair styled in a low fade, brown skin, and a dimple only on his right cheek. His left brow has a slit in it, hinting that he isn't afraid to experiment with his looks. He lists some of his interests as baking, doing volunteer work, and exploring the outdoors.

I consider myself a decent judge of character, and he looks about as genuine as they come. But none of that is the reason why my brain is malfunctioning.

It's his pretty brown eyes...He has the type of eyes that seem to sparkle with a blend of intelligence and mischief. The type of eyes that'll make a guy fall to his knees and confess all his sins. He has the type of eyes that make me want to do something reckless.

"I found my guy," I announce. "I'm going to reach out right now."

"Good luck." Oliver stands with a smile and clears the table. "I've got to get back in the kitchen. Text me later to let me know how it goes!"

"I will." My pulse quickens when I read that E. Barnes only works with male clients. Does that mean he's also...? Don't be a coward. My thumb hovers over the REQUEST A MEETING button. Fucking do it!

I tap the button to send him a message.

From: C. Ashford

To: E. Barnes

Subject: Available All Next Week?

Mr. Barnes,

Forgive me for skipping straight to the point, but I'm scheduled to leave for a week-long couple's retreat on Friday. It's strictly business-related, and I desperately need a partner. Your profile drew me in immediately, hence this outreach. I'm sure you'll do your research on me after reading this, so if being photographed doesn't make you uncomfortable, I hope to hear from you soon.

Your discretion in this matter would also be greatly appreciated.

Regards,

C. Ashford

And now we wait.

I pay for my meal and exit the restaurant to find my ride already waiting. Climbing into the black SUV, I instruct John, my driver, to take me home. I usually work late at the office, but not today. After the mess with my grandfather, I need to clear my head and start over fresh tomorrow.

While responding to a text from my assistant, Yasmine, my attention shifts to the new notification that pops up on the screen—it belongs to the Rent a Partner app.

From: E. Barnes

To: C. Ashford

Subject: Available All Next Week?

Mr. Ashford,

I'm available and I'd be happy to be your Partner!

Please be on the lookout for a link to my contract. It will require your signature and address any concerns regarding how your privacy will be handled. I understand some exposure is unavoidable, so I have no problem being photographed with you.

I hope you don't mind me asking, but what specifically impressed you about my profile? You look like a man with a set type, and I certainly didn't think it'd be me. Nonetheless, I'm flattered.

As for my rate per hour, I prefer to go over that information in person. Let me know if you have time to sit down with me tomorrow to chat more about the retreat!

Warm regards,

E. Barnes

I can feel the heat flood my face as my fingers speedily type out a reply.

From: C. Ashford

To: E. Barnes

Subject: Available All Next Week?

Mr. Barnes,

Thanks for accepting my request. I'll have to check my schedule to see what time I'll be free tomorrow, so I'll get back to you on that shortly.

To be honest, everything about you impressed me. You seem genuine, driven, and passionate about life, which is rare to find in people these days. To comment on your other statement, I do have a type, and you check a lot of boxes for me.

I look forward to meeting you in person.

Sincerely,

C. Ashford

I mute my phone and toss it out of reach, my smile waning alongside my self-control.

"Get a grip," I mutter under my breath. "This is strictly for business, not pleasure."

A big part of me doesn't believe the words. Something about the man has me feeling off-balance. Like I'm teetering on the edge of something I'm not quite ready to face.