Page 9 of She is the Darke
Mr. Tyler Durock,
This is Ms. Darke, and I have put together a contract that will bind our businesses for two weeks; until the night of Halloween, and no further. If you are interested in working with my company, all I need from you is your email address, and I will send you the contract to look over and sign. I have also put together a work schedule that will keep our visits to each house separate. I will expect promptness and professionalism from you, as you will be an extension of my company and the brand I have worked very hard to cultivate over the years. In other words, I don’t want you tainting the legacy I have built. If that seems like it will be too difficult, I do understand, and can continue my search for someone who fits my company better. This is business only, and there is no need for us to converse outside of professional texts and emails, such as this. Thank you for your consideration.
Demi Rhone Darke.
Her finger hovered over the send button for a few seconds before she swallowed her pride and sent the text.
She set her phone on the coffee table of her one-bedroom townhome, and stood in a rush. Why was her heart racing like this?
She went to the window and rested her hands on her hips as she watched the orange leaves raining down from the tree in front of her house. This was her favorite time of year, and she didn’t like all this added stress on top of her busy season.
Her phone dinged, and she bolted for it. She leapt over the back of the couch like an Olympian and snatched the phone off the table.
No one else would help you, huh?
She narrowed her eyes at Tyler’s dumb text and then typed out,Forget it, meathead. I don’t need you.Send.
Meathead? I resemble that. I mean resent that. My email is tylerlikesbabes69 at yahoo. Don’t judge me. I’ve had that email since I was a teenager and I’m too lazy to change it now.
That’s the dumbest email I’ve ever even seen. Of course I’m judging you.Send.
A call lit up her phone from one Tyler the Titty Chaser, and don’t ask her why she saved his name as that. She still had feelings about him making out with Hannah Duffey directly after kissing her almost two decades ago. God, she had issues.
She hit the reject button on his call, and felt smug as hell.
Be professional, Ms. Darke. I’m calling to talk about the contract,Tyler texted before he called her again.
She screeched at the top of her lungs, and then answered the call. Calmly, she asked, “Yes?”
“You must be desperate to want to work with me.”
“I assure you, I’m not desperate. Just taking into account what you said yesterday about us not knowing each other. I can be professional, and am wondering if you can do the same.”
“I can. I’ll pick you up in an hour.”
“What?”
“I’ll pick you up for dinner.”
“I’m not doing dinner with you, Tyler!”
“Whoa. Lower the volume, boss lady. I don’t have my laptop here. I’ll sign the contract, but I need to bring it to you in person.”
“Great, drop it in my mailbox. No. Scratch that. You don’t need to know where I live—”
“You think I’m going to mess with your house?”
“True or false, you and Danny Smithers toilet-papered my parents’ house when I was fifteen.”
The line went silent.
“That’s what I thought. Also, that was the beginning of my mother’s disdain for you.”
“How did you know it was me?”
“Because you left your school ID in our front yard, you idiot. Just mail me the contract.”
Tyler sighed. “Too bad I already asked my sister for your address. Pick you up in an hour. I was thinking Cutter’s Grill?”