September 2007

It's not something that you do normally, but you need a little more cash to fund your next heist, and who were you to really say no? Spent the evening with a man as his arm candy, eavesdrop and get all the dirty little details -- it's all fun and games, and honestly seems like a great night out. So when -- wait, what was his name? Nathan? That's not such a great name, you decide to call him Nate -- he decides he wants to try to hire you to get some information, you decide why not. A shrug of the shoulders, a hand on your hip, and you agree. What could possibly go wrong?

He gives you an invitation to an industry gala that is happening in the center of the city. A real black tie event, and so you pick up a tight black dress for the occasion, silver high heels, and your best pushup bra. You tease out your hair, because you have a role to play tonight; ditsy blonde who has won the heart and money of a tech genius, and it's time to learn who all his 'dear friends' are. The real objective? Get as much information as you can, some for Nate, and some for you -- blackmail is such a great business these days. And to his merit, he's just as good of an actor as you can be an actress. You make a good team, and when you walk into the room, everyone stops and stares.

Society people are just too easy to fuck over.

And, really, that was true. People were far more willing to open up to the "pretend fiancée" of the tech genius than the actual tech genius himself, and so you got a lot of information. Who was sleeping with who. Who was banging the maid. Who was still in the closet, and who was getting ready to burst out of it. And, most importantly, who was selling company secrets, who was looking to destroy their competitor, who had deliciously good dirt on those trying to bring down Nate's company. Because people always seemed to want to open up to a tall beautiful blonde, and since everyone here was into affairs, they wanted to get you to get into it too.

Oh he's too good for you, the men and women you talked to that night at the gala would whisper in your ear, and you'd pretend to be shocked, but truthfully you had only just met the guy and had no intention of sticking around him longer than tonight. You wave around the giant diamond you made him buy as a payment for your services, and wear it proudly on your left hand, to sell the point that you two are so desperately in love and dying to get married. It's laughable really, because you're so not going to be doing the marriage thing any time soon. Or, ever. It's not worth it. Men in general are not worth it. Unless they're trying to get something out of you, then they'll open their wallets and their hearts and you can steal from them until they break.

By the end of the night, you've stopped recording on the gala, and you meet Nate in the penthouse suite he's rented for the weekend. He tells you that you've made a good team, and you laugh but say that you have to agree. It's nice to play pretend for a while. He grabs at you then, pulling you close to him and pushes you against the wall. He wonders, would you like to play pretend a little while longer? and you decide why the hell not? When in rome. It's when you move to turn off the recorder for good, that he moves your hand and keeps it recording. For the memories, he says with a laugh, and you're about to snark back at him, but you're soon too busy moaning to really give two shits about anything else.

Hours later, when you're both on the bed (somehow making it there over the night), you check your burner phone. Messages, calls, voicemails all from the people you've met tonight. Some are looking to tell you more information, some are looking to use you to get close to your imaginary fiancé, and you laugh. You show Nate this, and he laughs as well, because neither of you actually expected to have this work so well. So then, an agreement is made. Both of you will continue to pretend to be engaged for a month, gathering more information. At the end of the month, you'll have a huge dramatic breakup and then move on. The penthouse is large enough that you can both have your own bedrooms, and that's really good because your apartment is going under a few renovations.

You both shake on it, and you slip out of bed, the sheets falling to the ground after you, and you hear him make an aroused groan at the sight of you. You just laugh and walk out of the room, "I'll send for my things, fiancé."

The business arrangement lasts a month, and it goes exactly as planned. You can make a living off of all the dirt you can sell on all these high society types now. You both stage a fantastic and dramatic breakup in public, go your separate ways, but what isn't planned is when he catches up to you and you have sex in his town car after. It's a passion that you didn't realize you wanted, and you sure as hell are not telling him that now, not when you're both cutting ties. Business is business. You're young. Life goes on.

You just didn't expect to grow fond of him in the process. But that's how it always is. At least you'll never see him again; out of sight, out of mind.