I imagine if you looked at me, you might question my choice of career. You might assume that I'm an actress or a model, or maybe that I have a rich husband that bought me the custom Harley that I chose to arrive in when I greeted my clients. You'll also probably wonder how a nice girl like me ended up here. I guess you never know what you'll find underneath the covers. Here's how I got here.
Being tall and having a mane of strawberry blond ringlets attracted attention all through school. So did the way I was built. I soon learned that having a tiny waist and lots of cleavage would give me the edge that made life simpler.
It was easy to use my looks to get what I wanted. There was no challenge to it. People are like that. When you're beautiful, friendly and outgoing, they swoon to get you whatever you want.
It didn't take long for life to become dull after high school. I wondered from one job to the next, bored as hell. My ex boyfriend Mario was connected to some people that discreetly proposed an offer one day two years ago. It was an offer of three jobs in one. It was an offer I couldn't refuse.
Ebony they told me. This opportunity will make you rich beyond your dreams.
Besides money the offer also included adventure. But there was a dark side. It was a tough decision to make but I took it, and I haven't looked back since.
What about my conscience you might ask? Maybe I wasn't born with that part of my brain developed because I've never felt guilt, remorse or sadness my entire life. I just move forward to the next adventure and feel the familiar feelings of accomplishment that comes with a job well done.
I had just finished designing an updated advertisement for my client's Dream House. I liked to work at least three cases around the globe at one time, so my client's cravings for me can build during my absence. I had just finished hacking into their accounts and now all I had to do was to hit send. The near duplicate flyer hadn't been questioned yet. The concept was too intriguing; too inviting.
The minute the digital ad arrived he called his boss.
"Yeah, she took the bait. I don't know exactly. The advertisement she sent is about a Dream House. I don't know what that means but I'll find out. It's an interesting twist," Jaxon said to the voice on the phone while eyeing the exclusive flyer that had seconds before appeared in his inbox.
What I didn't know is that even though Jaxon was very rich, he had a full time job that he was very devoted to.
In a previous situation his boss had noticed the near perfect ad contained some flaws that made it different than the original ones he'd viewed. The differences were subtle, but they were there. It was only a hunch but it was worth looking into. They were able to trace the ad to the owner's IP. Then all they had to do was set the scene and make sure Jaxon got on her list.
Click on the link boys raced through my head as my adventure began. It was a challenge and I loved challenges. The billionaires were not easily fooled and they weren't easy to meet. They were accustomed to people wanting their money. The exclusive club gave me an in. My advantage was that I cut and pasted my ad into the secret elite news flyer, Jam, that was only available to the ultra rich. Then I re-sent it. With membership, clients were offered exclusive opportunities only available to A listers and celebrities. It was a very, very exclusive club, and my boss was a member.
Viola, they first one clicked on the link. I looked at my phone with anticipation. Would the fish bite? It took two hours for that to happen. The call came in just as I was getting a manicure.
Once outside the shop I explained the Dream House concept, how it worked and what properties were available for the offer.
"So you're telling me, that for an additional 250 k a year, I can plan instant excitement at my fingertips? I'll never be bored again?"
"Yes, that is exactly correct. We can cure your boredom and take care of life's mundane little tasks for you. We do all the planning. We'll set the scene in every way. That includes the people involved. They have a job and a purpose. They know how to entertain. Some activities require only one hours notice. If you want to go surfing a limo will arrive with a surf board and a qualified instructor to take you to the ocean. Let's say for example that you wanted to organize a poker game with some guys at your house. There is a large room in the basement in any of the houses you pick that will be transformed on your whim. Within an hour four fun loving guys with great attitudes and jokes will be sitting in that room awaiting your arrival. They'll have money on them so betting means something. Or maybe you decide that you're in the mood for a romantic date with a very attentive and attractive woman without strings attached. The room will be set up to romantic perfection including the sex chair she'll eagerly let you fuck her on. You can pick her bust size, her hair color, and your sexual style preference if you like. Toys, condoms, anything you need or request will be in the room."
"The idea sounds intriguing. When can you show me some properties?" said Jaxon. We arranged a meeting.
When Jaxon first set eyes on me, a slow, low whistle escaped his lips. I had chosen an off the shoulder oriental design that showed off my slim figure, tiny waist and the curvature of my breasts. I greeted his interest with a brilliant smile. He had a quality about him that was raw and animalistic. Something about Mr. Jaxon Reynolds was a definite turn on.
"You must be Mr. Reynolds," I said, moving toward him and taking his hand.
He lifted my hand to his lips and kissed it softly as we maintained eye contact. I went right into sales woman mode, yet I gave him subtle well timed clues that I found him interesting and attractive. We looked at several homes and found one he seemed very interested in.
"Do you come with the place?" Jaxon asked seductively eyeing my luscious curves and landing on my cleavage.
"Occasionally I have been known to show up," I replied mysteriously, purposely showing him a glimpse of my long, lean, legs as the slit in my dress rode up while entering my car.
I gave him a beautifully seductive smile and drove off. The bait was set. Now it was a waiting game.
As I flew to Lisbon to set up my next deal I kept thinking about him. We had connected, like I hadn't connected with anyone in two years. There was something special about Jaxon and I couldn't put my finger on it.
A week later the call came in. I flew back to New York and the deal was signed on one condition. He wanted me to be included in one of his adventures once every two months for a year.
"You may be very attractive, but I don't rent out my body," I had warned him.
"I'm not asking you to. I have a very demanding schedule and I just want to enjoy your company when it suits both of us, is that asking too much?"
His boyish charm could not be denied. Showing mock exasperation I signed my part of the deal. There was no denying it. He was playing right into my hand. I would have him in no time.
No matter how charming Jaxon was, I was steely eyed and determined. Feelings hadn't entered the picture before so why should they now. Why should the rush of excitement when I see him, get in the way of me doing my job? I shrugged off the thought.
Our first Dream House encounter was a poker game. Jaxon's sandy, longish hair hung in his sparkling blue eyes. He wore a jean shirt and tight black jeans. He wanted me to be his cocktail waitress.
I wore a shimmering, short, black sequence dress. The dress could almost be used as a mirror but not quite. I moved too quickly.
"I'll have a martini doll," one of the players said, careful not to proposition me, or linger on my cleavage, since he was at work after all.
Then as a joke I decided to stand behind Jaxon's competitors, giving him a welcome or unwelcome view of the cards his opponents were holding. I did it repeatedly with a sly smile on my lips. "Stop that," he scolded laughingly. The money obviously meant nothing to him. He had plenty of it. I had imagined the laugh meant more to him. Little did I know he had his own hidden agenda.
