Contractual Obligation: The Contract by Lauren Keller Page B

would…”
    “Don’t,” his hand shot up. “Don’t bring her into this.”
    Kent looked at his son. “I’ll check in later with you. I’ve got a meeting to go to.”
    Michael watched his father leave the room. His life would have been different if his mother was still alive. Instead, all he saw was his father use women and dump them when he got bored, right before their contract stated they would collect big. He’d let them believe they’d make it – but it was all planned. And with a confidentiality contract, if they opened their mouths, they left with nothing. They had to settle for a smaller settlement than they thought they were going to get going into the marriage.
    He didn’t even want to look at the stupid files. Five folders sat on his desk, all women willing to sell their souls for a few bucks. That’s not what Michael wanted in a wife. He figured one day he’d fall in love the traditional way, somebody would capture his heart and soul, and he wouldn’t want to be without her…isn’t that how it’s done? Instead, he had files to rifle through, pictures to look at, and nonsense information to decide on - matchmaking at its worst.
    He wondered if his father even remembered what it was like to be in love. He used to talk about his mother, share details of their lives as they were starting out, but he rarely mentioned her these days.
    Michael barely remembered her, he was a toddler when the accident happened, but he knew how much his father loved her by the way he would look at her picture. There was something softer in his eyes, and when he’d speak of her – Michael wished he’d gotten the chance to spend more time with her.
    When his first step mother came around, he thought it would be nice to have a woman in the house – but he was sadly mistaken. She took no interest in mothering a child, and shopping and lunches filled her days. Through the years, it was an endless parade of shallow women in it for the money – and fully aware what they were there for. How did his father expect him to live the same kind of life? What about love?
    Dropping his head to his hands, he knew he’d have to open the folders eventually. They were attractive women, but the idea of picking through them to choose a mate made him feel like he was shopping, and felt cheap.
    He tried to read the bio that went with each, and information, but they couldn’t hold his focus. He’d gone through the first three and tossed them aside. Two folders left to look at. Michael’s stomach churned, he hated this, the entire though t of this nonsense.
    Picking up folder four, something happened. A dark haired beauty stared back at him, not with the usual blank stare, but with depth and vulnerability. It was all an act, he reminded himself – she applied for this damn job. She’s as shallow as the rest of them. Tossing it aside, he opened folder five – and there she was, the woman he would choose to meet.
    It was an instant attraction, something in his gut, but as gorgeous as she was he reminded himself she was in this for one thing – money. It was a job.
    Staring at the photo, he looked at the woman. Why would she take a job like this? She was obviously more than capable of meeting men, or was she a lesbian, not wanting to bother with them. This would be an easy solution, a loveless marriage, one where she didn’t have to care – just make a few appearances with him.
    He’d dated a few models in his time out, but most were mindless tramps, looking for the next party, the next cock to ride, and for someone else to pay the bill for the champagne. Would she be any different?
    This is ridiculous. He closed the folder and pushed it back on his desk. He’d meet his own damn woman; he didn’t need his father’s lawyer and personal assistant setting him up. He’d do it on his own. Thinking back, he couldn’t come up with one single woman that he’d dated over the past few years that he’d want to make his wife.
    Pulling the