Agreements With Mr Rich Boy | ✓

21 | Work To Be Done

"WHY DID YOU COME round so late last night?" Miles asked as we strolled through the now familiar walls, though no less magnificent. No matter how many times I allowed my fingers to brush along the frame work, I still couldn't quite get used to it all.

I shrugged. "Had things to do." Was it obvious? He must know I was lying, what with the constant twitching and looking behind me every few metres. It was getting ridiculous. "Besides, you're only good for nights anyway." I winked.

Miles pretended to wipe a tear from his eye. "Is that all I am? A three am booty call?"

I scoffed, at last feeling somewhat more relaxed. I had to give it to Miles; he had a gift for making me feel not so like the world was crushing me.

"Who's a bootycall?" A voice said, coming up behind us. Melanie pointed a finger at Miles. "You still swallowing up the neighbourhood, Reynard?"

He pulled back, feigning hurt. "Jealous I've taken your place?" He asked. "Or upset you've not had the pleasure of a night with this." He motioned to himself, pausing for a moment on his crotch. Both Melanie and I laughed, her hysterically.

"What are we talking? Like an inch." She held up her pinky finger, wiggling it down by where a penis would be.

"I'll have you know—" I missed the rest of what he was saying as my arm was grabbed and I was being swung round a corner, away from the others and what my attacker had likely been striving for, out of view. Faintly, I could hear Melanie and Miles continuing to bicker, too absorbed in slating each other's sexual abilities to notice my disappearance.

I went to scream but a hand was clamped over my mouth.

"It's just me," Archer said, releasing me just as quickly as he'd grabbed me in the first place. "I needed to talk to you."

I huffed. "You release you can 'talk' to me without needing to make me almost shit myself."

He ignored me. "There's this small charity event tomorrow night," he told me, instead. "And I need you to be looking presentable. Have you got a dress?"

I stared at him, in shock. "Go with you to a charity event?"

"Yes," he said, staring at me with a cocked brow. "That is what we agreed. Or is your memory really that dreadful? Let me refresh it for you: you chased me down and begged me to—"

"It's not that," I said, rolling my eyes. "It's just... don't you think a day is a little short notice?"

He seemed to consider this, taking a moment to observe me. I felt antsy under his gaze. "You're right. There's an awful lot of work to be done."

"Excuse m—"

"I'll have Autumn come round to see you, help you with etiquette and such. And in terms of your appearance..." again, he took a few moments to watch me, eyes sweeping up and down my form. I transferred my weight to my other foot. "I'll figure something out dress wise. We'll sort something out make up wise, too."

"Look, I really don't thi—"

"It starts at six, so I'll knock for you at half past." My mouth hung ajar, words ready to come out, but they fell on deaf ears as he'd already walked away, disappearing off down another corridor.