His Fake Hired Girlfriend

Chapter2

Anna POV

"Seeking Arrangements?" I inquire, giggling at the name of the website in front of me.

"Yes. Listen, it's not odd. I know a ton of folks that do this type of stuff. Not all of the males are elderly." Scartl adds, defending the website.

"I don't know. I mean, I don't believe I could even have a...sugar daddy." I say, dropping my voice, worried that someone could hear.

"Just because you have a sugar daddy doesn't mean it has to be disgusting. A lot of the men on here simply want company. Like, sometimes they have an event they need to attend, so they simply want someone young and lovely to stand next to them. It all simply depends on what you are comfortable with."

"I don't know about this, Sara," I responded uncomfortably.

"Just browse around for a while. You never know what you may discover. But listen, I have to leave now. I had the stuff to accomplish later." She says as she gets her belongings up from the ground.

"What? Go on more dates from this site?" I laugh.

"Maybe. Maybe not. The world may never know. I'll see you later," she joked.

When she went out, I began scrolling down the first page of this webpage. I am unusually intrigued by what the messages stated and went through the images of the various individuals on here. Some of the posts posted by males were sorrowful, and they seemed lonely. Oh, and desperate. Not everyone was an elderly man; several of these individuals are no more than thirty years old. As I continued to peruse, I stopped at a post that attracted my eye instantly.

Iso is a young girl for my kid. Must be around the age of 20-23. Go on a couple of dates with him. Talk to him. Be everything he wants you to be. Be his girlfriend. He is heartbroken, and his mother and I want him to be happy again. I don't care if it's bogus. Make him believe it's genuine. Fill out the application and I will get in touch with you. Pay will vary.

I clicked on the post to learn more and saw a picture attached of who I believed was his kid. He is a terrific-looking man. A fine-looking dude. Well, from what I can tell, at least. The photo is shot at the beach, possibly in Destin. He wears a button-up shirt, shorts, and sunglasses. He is smiling brightly at a lady who I am going to guess is his mother. I don't understand how a person who looks this wonderful could be on a website like this. I'm confident he receives enough attention outside of the internet.

Despite my misgivings on this website, I sent this guy a message.

Hey, I read your article and was interested in chatting further with you. 405-555-5131. Get back to me when you can. -C

I send the message before I can begin to regret it. I recently sent a message to a random father with my phone number attached in hopes that I would be compensated for dating his kid. Have I struck rock bottom?

Surprisingly, within seconds I hear a little chime emanating from my PC. A message from the guy appeared on the screen.

Hello. Please submit a photo attachment, including a face and complete body shot. I will get in touch from there.

The message is obvious and makes me more worried than delighted. I don't want to be judged, but I know that's precisely what will happen the second I submit these images. Despite knowing this, I still pick two of the greatest images of myself and email them. I uncovered two of my old senior photographs, one of me standing against a purple wall and the other a close-up of my face. Although the images are a couple of years old, they still look precisely like me. My face hasn't altered at all, and my dark hair has grown a few inches. Other than that, no one would know when the images were shot.

I eagerly waited for a reply. A few minutes pass, and I discover the message has been delivered and opened. Instead of a reply, my phone started to vibrate. The unknown number that has my area code confirms that it's a local caller. With tense palms, I answer the phone with reluctance.

"Hello?" I responded uncomfortably.

"Hello. Is this…Anna?" A guy asks.

"Yes. Who is this?"

"Great. My name is Dane Fain. I posted a post on Seeking Arrangements and was just getting back to you. I have your profile pulled up right now. Tell me a little bit about yourself." He said officially.

"Uhh, well...I'm sorry, I wasn't anticipating this." I chuckle uncomfortably. This is pretty basic, basically an interview.

"Okay, I understand. I simply want to go over certain things with several of the females before selecting one. Let me start by telling you a little bit about what's going on right now. My kid, Ethan, is twenty-three and extremely successful. But, lately, he broke up with his girlfriend of two years after discovering that she cheated on him. His mother and I are scared he has poor self-worth, and I'm afraid it may interfere with his professional life. I want to set him up on some dates and see where it leads him. As far as money goes, you will be paid every two weeks, and it will continue for as long as your connection is alive. Payments will cease when there is a mutual split, or whenever you feel the need to pull out," he explained.

Well, this makes sense as to why he is single. Kind of. He is simply hurt. I understand it. I'm sure he isn't aware that his father has published a post, practically paying ladies to be in a relationship with him.

"How much will the payment be?" I ask gently.

"I was thinking about $700 every two weeks. But it is only if I see dates occurring and know you aren't simply going on a couple of dates and never talking to him. It ought to be a connection. Talk to him, date him, and persuade him this is all true. After a time, if the two of you split up, then that's alright. I need him to get back to his former self again. Just persuade him that this is true. If you are interested, that is."

I practically fell out of my seat at the price. $700 per two weeks is a lot of money. Just to go out on a few dates and text the man every couple of hours? That's easy money. Way too easy.

"I'm interested," I say quickly. "Uhh, about me," I mumble. I have no idea what I should and should not tell him.

"Don't worry. All of this remains between us." He assures me.

"Okay, well...I'm now in school as a business major. I am twenty years old, and I work in a restaurant in town. I live at home with my father and my younger sister, Phoebe. My sister is my whole universe. She is just four, and I'm largely responsible for her. I want to remain in school if possible, but it's incredibly hard right now owing to my father being jobless. I'm searching for more money so I can care for Phoebe and pay for all of the books throughout this semester," I say, trying to seem as confident as I possibly can be.

"Is your mother around?" Anna asks. My heart hurts at the thought of my mother.

"She went away two years ago. She had cancer," I said gently.

"I'm extremely sorry to hear that, Anna. As for everything else, I simply want to say that I wholeheartedly support your decision to continue in school. I realize that with kids, it may be challenging. Very challenging. I respect you for taking on both tasks. If everything works out moving ahead, I would like to support you with your school supplies. Those darn school books cost an arm and a leg. So, we will come to an accord as far as the money goes. As for the agreement with my son, I would like you two to meet," he informs me. Tears begin to form, and I don't even bother to suppress them.

"Thank you so much," I wept gently.

"I will be throwing a cookout soon and would like for you to come. This way, I can introduce the two of you. Then, we can take it from there. I'll send you an email with further details. How does it sound?" He asks.

"That sounds amazing. Thank you very much!" I say one again. I feel like I just was offered a job I had been waiting on for so long. This is something I never believed would happen. All the stress of a job and money won't be a worry anymore. I can maintain my employment, put it towards my monthly bills, and use the cash from Dane to fall back on if required. This is wonderful.

I think Sara was correct. This webpage is going to assist me after all.