4

"Mr Gunn accepts the first two conditions," Miss Collins announces on the follow-up meeting after I laid out five things to be brought to him prior my agreement to the contract, "But he won't tolerate the remaining three."

First, I will never, under any circumstances, have sex with him be it oral sex, vaginal sex, anal sex, fingering or hand jobs, dry humping or genital rubbing, or masturbation.

Fucking wrap your junk and hide it from me.

Second, I will not sleep with him even without any physical contact.

Because satan is always beside us to influence us towards sinful acts.

Third, I will only be available during the weekend.

Fourth, I will not live with him.

Fifth, family is off-limit. Be it mine, or his.

"So I have to live with him full-time?" That would be impossible, "I have my day job. There is no way I'm gonna apply leave from work for three months straight for him." Even if it guarantees me a hundred and fifty thousand dollar.

That's 2.1 billion rupiah. I will not just be a millionaire, I'll be a fucking billionaire.

"Scarlett works too, Sweetheart." Drey is not helping with that little information.

"But she isn't a Geomodeller. I bet she works at a foundation or something, doing rich wife charity." Unlike me who's doing a less glamorous work, just sitting behind a desk clicking buttons in front of the computer from 8 to 5.

"She actually works in finance," he supplies, "Doing real work. Just like you."

I'm seriously surprised to learn the lady is somewhat normal despite her appearance. I thought she's at least in fashion, since all her outfits scream limited-edition and in-season only.

"Why would she work? I thought Mr Gunn is ‘rich’ rich?"

"Maybe that's what he liked about her." He shrugs, to which I nod understandingly. Some men do like independent women, perhaps he's one of them.

"So we can wave off item number three?" Miss Collins conclude.

"But I can't live with him. That would contradict number two." And I'm not gonna compromise number two, ever.

"Fun fact," Drey interrupts again, "Scarlett has her own room."

This is even more surprising, "Are you for real? Why? I thought he loves her? Why would he sleep separately with a woman he's obsessed with? That doesn't make sense."

"Well, that's what rich people do."

Oh?

"Three, four, done. Five shouldn't be an issue, Alya?" Miss Collins asks.

"Five is actually more to his family. I'm slightly uncomfortable to pose as the wife in front of his family. They must've known I'm a fake."

Drey chuckles lightly, "Don't worry. You're not the first fake wife he'd bring to his family events," I'm quite stunned to learn he actually involved the fake Scarletts in his family affair, "And you won't be the last either."

***

I am exhausted.

Wait. The word ‘exhausted’ won't even define the state I'm in. I am BEYOND exhausted to the point of quitting this instant.

Oh yes, I use the phrase ‘quitting this instant’ quite often because I AM a quitter. I hate challenges, I hate new things, I hate, hate, HATEEEE changes.

Right after I signed the contract, I was enrolled into Drey's extensive training for him to ‘sculpt’ me (his word, not mine) into the Scarlett he aspires me to be. Or should I say, the Scarlett Mr Gunn aspires me to be?

I'm under this strict schedule he has set for the next two months that I had started to regret it on the first day itself.

Every day after work, I have to go to Cupcake office building for an hour of etiquette class with him. After that I'll be off to the gym to work out with a trainer he has specifically chosen for me for a duration of three hours. Only then, by midnight, I'll be home to repeat the same thing tomorrow morning.

Thankfully I only need to work out three days straight then I'd get one rest day, though that three hours would be spent for a lecture with Drey on how to talk like Scarlett.

During the weekend, it's even more tiring since I'll be spending the whole day with him to learn on how to dress like Scarlett, how to apply make up like Scarlett, how to smile-frown-angry-insert-all-emotions-here like Scarlett that I swear, by the end of this two months training, I will REALLY be one convincing Scarlett he aspires me to be.

Worst of all, I'm on a strict diet that I have to take a picture of every meal to show him what I'm eating as well as the portion size; eight meals a day with the portion the size of my palm, only steamed slash baked slash salad is allowed with white meat only, none of those juicy steak or my favorite cheese burger.

Sometimes I do want to lie to him by having a burger on the side but I don't have the courage to do that; he's really good at reading me. Maybe that's why he was chosen to be the one to train all the Scarletts.

"You can only call him Honey. Not Mr Gunn, not his first name, just Honey. Only Honey is allowed."

I laugh thinking how awkward it would be during our first meeting next month that I have to call him Honey straightaway.

"He would call you B," he ignores my laugh as he always does, being totally serious during our class, "Which stands for Baby. Or Bee the zzzzz. I'm not sure myself but it will be B for you. Or anything he feels like calling you. But the default would be B so whenever he calls B or mentions B, that would be you."

"He won't call me Scarlett?" I giggle as I ask, still think it's funny the way he buzzes like a bee just now.

"He can call you anything he wants, Sweetheart," and there it is, "Please pay attention to what I said."

"But what if he ask me to call him other than Honey? What if he wants me to call him-"

"Alya," he calls my name after taking a deep breath, calming himself, "He pays you a great amount of money to be Scarlett. If he wants you to call him Daddy, you.call.him.Daddy. That's nothing compared to what we've done since the past four weeks."

He's right, calling him Daddy is nothing if we were to compare to the hours I've spent learning on how to be Scarlett Monroe.