A Quick Gig

It was supposed to be a quick gig, in and out and done with. The usual way. It wasn't supposed to become something else. It wasn't supposed to get to where we are. My name is Nick and I'm about to tell you a story about two people who have become very dear to me. Chapter One "I have no interest in having a man in my bed right now," Sandra said without looking up from the stack of papers on her desk. "If I should need a man, which I don't, I'll get Cynthia hook me up with one of those gigolos she's been trying so desperately to link me up with." Sandra Baldwin, heiress to the vast empire built by her billionaire industrialist father, Chamberlain Baldwin, found solace in the demanding world of her family's business after the wreckage of her marriage. The echoes of that failed union served as a catalyst for her deep dive into the intricacies of the corporate realm, a refuge where ambition and success became her focus. Amidst the steel and glass confines of her executive office, Sandra was engrossed in the world of mergers, acquisitions, and boardroom negotiations, deflecting the persistent nudges from well-meaning family and friends to reenter the realm of romance. The pressure to "move on" loomed, yet Sandra remained steadfast in her commitment to the company her father had built. Across the polished desk, her ever-vibrant best friend, Kim Wendell, was a constant presence. Kim, with her unwavering enthusiasm, seemed to make it her mission to play matchmaker, introducing Sandra to a stream of eligible suitors. Each week brought a new face, a fresh attempt to pull Sandra from the corporate cocoon she had woven around herself. Yet, Sandra, with a focused determination, navigated the professional challenges with an unyielding spirit. The glint of her engagement with business affairs outshone the flicker of romance in her life. For now, the whispers of well-intentioned friends and the subtle matchmaking efforts of Kim were met with a polite smile, as Sandra continued to forge her path through the intricate landscape of Baldwin Industries. "Trust me," Kim said. "You'll find Charles very attractive and interesting." "Donald was also attractive and interesting," Sandra made reference to her ex-husband. "Look at where that got me." "Donald is a d**k," Kim said. "They're all d***s," Sandra said. "Just give them that chance to come close to your heart and they yank it out and break it. I'm not giving anybody the chance to do that to me anytime soon." "Not all of them will do that to you," Kim disagreed. "Look at Kennedy and Amy, you can find somebody like that if you take a chance with love again honey." "I'll let you know when I'm ready," Sandra said. "Right now, I'm going to find an escort for my Dad's birthday party next week." "Escort?" Kim rolled her eyes. "I didn't mean it like that," Sandra threw up her hands. "I just need somebody to act like my boyfriend for my Dad's sake. He thinks I've found somebody and I don't want to disappoint him." "You can go with Charles," Kim volunteered. "I think I'll prefer a professional," Sandra replied. "You know, no strings attached kind of thing. If I need a booty call in the process, I'll pay for it, no strings attached." "Booty call," Kim laughed. "I like the sound of that. That's a good start if I might add." "I've got a ton of work to do here," Sandra told Kim gesturing to the papers on her desk. "Can we pick this up later, please." "Sure hon," Kim grabbed her bag. "Let me get out of your hair. Will you call Cynthia for your escort or should I do the honors?" "You're dying to do this," Sandra laughed. "Alright, call Cynthia on my behalf and set it up." "I'll have the perfect kind of man for you," Kim said as she left the spacious office. Sandra's sigh echoed the weight of emotions that lingered beneath the surface, disrupting her focus on the tasks at hand. The mere mention of Donald or the prospect of venturing into a new romantic chapter had become an unsettling undercurrent in her otherwise composed life. Feeling the need to regain control, Sandra pushed back from her desk, navigating through the expansive office space. The well-stocked wine cabinet stood as a silent refuge, holding the promise of a momentary escape. Selecting her favorite brandy from the array of expensive bottles, she poured a measured amount into a crystal glass, the amber liquid reflecting the subdued lighting of the room. As the warmth of the brandy touched her lips, Sandra allowed a moment of respite. The familiar taste served as a balm for her frayed nerves, offering a temporary reprieve from the complexities that surrounded her. Alone in the vastness of her office, she contemplated the delicate balance between professional poise and the intricacies of her personal life, finding solace in the amber depths of the carefully chosen drink. Her fingers slowly traced the edges of the delicate crystal glass as she contemplated the journey that led her to this solitary moment by the wine cabinet. The clinking sound echoed the complexities of a relationship that once held promises and dreams. The echo of that chance meeting at a friend's birthday party reverberated through time—almost a decade of shared laughter, whispered secrets, and intertwined lives. Donald, with his tall stature and charm, had initially been the embodiment of her desires. Their connection was like a seamless dance, each step perfectly complementing the other. However, the dance took an unexpected turn, leading them through the stormy seas of a turbulent marriage. The initial allure faded, replaced by arguments and misunderstandings. The man who once knew all the right words seemed to struggle in a narrative of discontent. Amidst the turmoil, a silver lining emerged in the form of Christine. The sweet innocence of their daughter became a beacon of hope, a testament to the beauty that could arise even from fractured foundations. But as the years passed, Sandra realized that the joy of motherhood couldn't mend the deep-rooted issues that had wedged between her and Donald. The breaking point came three years into the union when Sandra, wearied by the constant clashes, decided to file for divorce. It was a painful but necessary step to reclaim her sense of self and provide a stable environment for Christine. Yet, the ties were not completely severed. Donald, despite being ousted from her life, retained visitation rights. He became an occasional figure in their lives, a reminder of a chapter she had turned the page on but hadn't entirely closed. Sandra, now sipping her drink in solitude, couldn't escape the bittersweet resonance of the past, encapsulated in the periodic presence of the man who once held the key to her heart. As Sandra navigated the delicate terrain of her personal life, her father's upcoming birthday loomed as a poignant reminder of his unspoken hopes. Despite the heartbreak etched into the lines of Chamberlain Baldwin's face at the demise of her marriage to Donald, a persistent flicker of optimism remained—a yearning for his daughter's happiness in a new relationship. The pressure to fulfill her father's expectations weighed heavily on Sandra's shoulders. The prospect of reentering the world of dating felt like an insurmountable task, a realm she wasn't ready to traverse. Yet, to assuage her father's concerns and maintain the facade of progress, Sandra had woven a web of deception. She had fabricated a tale of a burgeoning romance, a fiction carefully constructed to shield her from the probing inquiries and well-intentioned nudges. As the days counted down to her father's celebration, Sandra grappled with the dual roles she played—one, the dedicated professional steering the course of Baldwin Industries, and the other, a daughter navigating the delicate dance of parental expectations. The looming charade hung in the air, a delicate balance between filial devotion and the complexities of her own emotional landscape. She brushed aside the thoughts bothering her and walked back to her desk. It was settled, she'll hire a male escort for her father's birthday party, somebody who would play the part of a new boyfriend to ease her father's mind for the time being. Seated behind her desk, she focused on retracing the mental steps disrupted by the emotional interlude. The hum of the air-conditioning system in the room became a backdrop to her determined efforts to regain the professional composure that defined her in the corporate realm.