11: NO TOUCHING
1474 Words
Kayla stormed into her room, Isla’s words still clawing at her skull.
Your pathetic self can’t do anything alone.
She tossed her bag on the floor and dropped onto the bed, the contract hitting her chest with a dull thud.
Fine. If she was going to sell herself for two years, she’d at least read the contract first.
She flipped it open, scanning past the legal nonsense until one clause made her stop cold.
Clause 7.3: No intimate contact between parties for the duration of the contract. Violations result in immediate termination and forfeiture of all agreed benefits.
Kayla stared at it. Then she laughed a short and bitter laugh.
“No touching? Seriously?”
She slammed the paper down.
“So I’m supposed to marry him, play the perfect wife for cameras, and sleep in a different bed? What is this, a Catholic wedding ad?”
It pissed her off more than it should have.
He was deciding upfront she wasn’t even worth considering.
She tried to sleep after that, but her brain wouldn’t shut up.
The contract, the text, the way Andrian looked at her like he already knew her answer.
And under all of it, that night.
The night she woke up in his bed.
She sat up in the dark, clutching the blanket.
Someone had drugged her. Someone close enough to get her, to set her up.
Her stepmom had the motive.
But the timing didn’t sit right. Her drugging the drink was going to be too obvious, she wouldn't give herself out like that. Her dad too. He had been weird that week. Too quiet agreeable. Like he knew something and was trying not to show it or it was just a coincidence.
No way.
She shook the thought off. She was her dad's daughter, he wouldn't be cruel to her. Right?
The more she thought about it the more her head ached but something was for sure though. Whoever it was, they were close. Close enough to know where she’d be, what she’d drink, when she’d be alone.
Kayla lay back down, uneasy. If she signed this contract, she’d be stepping deeper into that same trap.
She fell asleep with the contract on her chest and the thought still burning in her chest
The next morning, she went to Vance Industries.
The building looked like it was trying to touch the sky. Glass and steel, so clean it hurt to look at. People in suits moved through the lobby like they owned the air.
Kayla looked at the building in amazement. It looked bigger and better than how the news projected it to be. It was better, brighter.
She looked around, how everybody was busy, how everyone was dressed. She suddenly adjusted her clothes as she felt she was under dressed and she stepped into a world that wasn't hers. Like the building could swallow her and nobody would notice.
Reception stopped her before she got three steps in.
“Miss? Do you have an appointment with Mr. Vance?”
Kayla straightened her spine.
“Tell him Kayla Carter is here””
The receptionist blinked, then picked up the phone.
Kayla crossed her arms, staring up at the tower above her.
She didn’t know why she should trust him.
But if this was the only way to keep her mother’s company from being eaten alive, then she’d make them regret underestimating her.
The receptionist hung up the phone and gave Kayla a tight smile.
“Mr. Vance will see you now. 45th floor. Don’t get lost.”
Don’t get lost, she said, like Kayla was a tourist.
Kayla took the elevator up, watching the numbers climb faster than her heartbeat. By the time the doors opened on the 45th floor, her palms were sweating.
Andrian’s office was ridiculous. Floor-to-ceiling windows, a desk that looked like it cost more than her dad’s car, and him sitting behind it like he lived there. He didn’t look surprised to see her.
“You came before the scheduled time,” he said, with a raised brow. “I thought you’d wait until the last minute to walk in here.”
Kayla dropped the contract on his desk. The sound echoed.
“We need to talk about clause 7.3.”
He didn’t even look down like he kept it to heart. “No touching?.”
“Yeah, no touching. Are you serious right now?” Kayla planted both hands on his desk. “You want me to marry you, act like your wife for the media, and then we sleep in separate rooms like strangers? What kind of fake marriage is that?”
Andrian studied her for a second, then smirked.
“You seriously can't stop thinking about keeping your hands off me. Can you Kayla?”
Kayla's breath hitched
“What?” She managed to utter.
He stood up and crossed over to the other end of the desk invading her private space
“10 clauses, 50 points. Ms. Carter over here didn't see anything else than the clause talking about no touching. You want to touch me so bad. No?”
Kayla was sure her heart had skipped three beats at once. He was close, too close. Close enough for her to get lost in his lips that kept on moving. At this point she wasn't sure she was even listening to what he was saying anymore.
She wanted to get close
Close enough to kiss him, to feel him.
Andrain chose to interrupt just then to save her or stop her from doing anything further.
Andrian had a knowing smile on his face, satisfied even
“I was just joking Ms Carter”
He then continued from the conversation before
“The kind of marriage that keeps both of us out of the tabloids for the wrong reasons. Unless you want the media to be in our business”
Kayla’s jaw tightened.
It seemed like he was ashamed to be associated with her.
“So this is about your image. Not me. Not us. Just your image?”
“It’s business, Kayla. Everything with us is business.” He shrugged. “And honestly? It’s better this way. Less complicated.”
“Less complicated for who?” she shot back. “You? Because from where I’m standing, you’re the one making it weird.”
He leaned forward, elbows on the desk.
“I can’t help it, I’m the prize.”
Kayla stared. Then she threw her head back and laughed, loud and sharp.
“You actually said it. Out loud. You’re insufferable.”
“I’m accurate.”
“You’re arrogant.” She picked the contract back up and waved it at him. “You know what this looks like? Like you don’t even trust yourself around me. Like you’re scared you’ll break your own rule.” she said taunting him back.
Andrian’s expression didn’t change, but his eyes flicked. Just once.
“Don’t flatter yourself, Kayla.”
“Don’t flatter yourself, Andrain.” She tossed the contract back down. “Fine, fine. No touching. But if I have to pretend to be your wife, I’m doing it my way. No controlling what I wear, who I talk to, or where I go. You wanted a partner for two years? Then act like it.”
He was quiet for a long beat. Then: “Deal. As long as you don’t embarrass me.”
Kayla snorted. “That depends on you.”
She turned to leave, but stopped at the door.
“One more thing.”
Andrian raised a brow.
“Who’s ‘A’?” she asked flatly.
For the first time, he looked caught off guard.
“What?”
“The text I got yesterday. It was signed ‘A’. You said it wasn’t you. So who is it?”
Andrian’s jaw tightened. “I don’t know. But if someone’s playing games with you, I’ll find out.”
Kayla didn’t believe him fully, but she nodded.
“Find out fast. Because if I sign this, I’m not going into it blind.”
She walked out before he could reply, her heart pounding for a reason she didn’t want to name.
Back in the lobby, the building felt even bigger than before.
She had her answer about clause 7.3, but it only gave her more questions.
Who was ‘A’?
Why did Andrian care enough to look genuinely pissed that someone else was messing with her?
And why did the idea of ‘no touching’ make her feel both relieved and annoyed at the same time?
She shoved those thoughts down. One problem at a time.
First, survive the next 48 hours.
Then maybe figure out who drugged her that night.
And if her dad was involved…
Kayla clenched her fists in her coat pocket.
She wasn’t ready for that answer yet.
- Writer
