Crash Into Me(26)

I'd been worried that a note after a night of sex with him meant goodbye. Now I was worried about what it meant if I decided to stay in his life.

Maybe Rogers had Tristan's cell number so I could talk to him before making my decision. Sure this could help me, I walked down the hall to the main part of the house to find the butler. He was standing in the foyer, almost as if he were told to wait there for me, and nodded as I approached.

Rogers looked like every butler I'd ever seen on television, and as I prepared to speak to him, I had to push down the urge to giggle at how stereotypical he appeared. He wore a dark suit, and his steel grey slicked back hair sat atop a head that showed he was at least in his sixties, I guessed. His face was long, not naturally but from what appeared to be years of frowning, if the lines around his mouth were any indication. However, he didn't look unfriendly. Just unhappy.

"Hi," I began, unsure how to approach this situation with a man who must have known I'd slept with Tristan the night before. I wasn't embarrassed, but I liked to keep my romances a bit more private.

"Miss, the master has left your contract to sign, if you so choose," he said in a deep voice as he handed me a pile of papers followed by a very expensive pen.

I looked down at the contract and pen in my hands and then back up at the butler. "Yes, about that. Would you be able to give me Tristan's cell phone number? I'd like to speak to him before I do anything."

Punctuating my request with a smile, I waited for Rogers to give me the information, only to be turned down.

"I'm sorry, miss, but I do not have that information."

"You must have his phone number. You work for him," I said in disbelief.

"No, miss," he said definitively, making it clear there was no room for discussion.

Well, if I couldn't discuss it with Tristan, I at least could discuss it with Jordan. She'd be able to help. Whipping my cell phone out, I swiped my finger across the screen and saw the No Service message staring back at me.

Terrific. I was on my own for this one.

"Is there somewhere I may sit, Rogers? I need to read the contract before I decide whether to sign it or not."

The butler extended his arm toward the living room off to the right. "Of course, miss. You may take all the time you require. The living room is at your disposal. The master has indicated, however, that whichever way you decide, you must do so before you leave."

"Got it. Thanks."

I took a seat on the very formal sofa and sat back with the contract in hand, determined to read the entire thing from the first to last word. Then I began reading it. I remembered signing the student loan papers when I was in college, and this contract made those look like crayon scribblings. Clause this and part that and on and on it went until by the end of page one I'd read enough.

By that point in the stack of papers, I knew my salary would be $60,000 for the six months and I was obligated to stay in Tristan's employment for no less than those six months. I would be given health, dental, vision, and life insurance and his company, which I found out was called Stone Worldwide, would contribute to a 401K plan, matching my contributions for as long as I was employed by the company.

I knew I should continue reading as the contract went on for six pages more, but as far as I was concerned, I had all the information I needed. I would be paid, have great benefits, and finally, for the first time since graduation, I'd be able to put some money in the bank. All of this and I'd get to work for Tristan in an art gallery. That I wasn't sure what I'd be in his personal life made me wish he and I had talked about it, but I had hope that his note had been evidence of his interest in me. With a deep breath, I prayed I wasn't making a mistake and signed my name on the last page. I looked up and Rogers seemed to have appeared out of nowhere and handed me a second letter from Tristan.