Free His Indecent Proposal by Andra Lake Page A

green eyes twinkling.  
    Now Sam was someone who could be a model. She had dark, almost black hair, and emerald eyes. Plus she had the height. But Sam didn’t need to consider becoming a model because she was headed straight for law school in September. Our plan had always been to go through together, back before I realized my personality wasn’t really Lawyer Material. I wouldn’t be able to handle people getting off on technicalities.  
    We clinked glasses and took a sip of wine.  
    “Do you have any leads?” Sam asked.  
    I shrugged, looking away. “Not really. I just started looking.”  
    “Were you chatting with a guy just now? Or looking at porn?” she teased.  
    I laughed and threw a pillow at her.  
    We spent the next few hours chatting about our plans for the summer. Sam was moving in with her boyfriend of a year, Luke. He was a lawyer who had just finished his articling and would now be making a decent salary. They’d met at some law faculty information session. Sam couldn’t wait to move in with him and enter law school and “start her real life”. She had everything planned out and it was all falling into place.  
    “It’s just so exciting, don’t you think, Amy? We’re making it on our own now, like real adults!” Sam squealed and gave me a tight hug before skipping out of my room to call Luke.  
    When my door closed, the plastered smile on my face vanished and I sighed deeply. Turning back to my computer, I found the best full body picture of myself available, wrote a cover letter and sent my application.  
    ***  
    The next morning, I rolled over and checked the time on my phone: 9 a.m. Next I checked my email and almost fell out of bed. There was already a response.  
    Dear Miss Clair,
    Thank you for your application. I believe you might be a perfect fit, but would of course like to meet you in person for an interview. The position requires a very specific personality. Would you be available this afternoon at 6 p.m.? If so, please let me know and we can meet at my office.
    Regards,
    Dallon King
    6 p.m. today? Whoa, he moved fast.  
    Still groggy, I stumbled into the bathroom to brush my teeth and frowned at myself in the mirror. He hadn’t provided the name of the modeling company, only the address where we were to meet. An obscure email address and no company name? Why was he being so secretive?  
    I wrote him a quick message back saying I would be happy to meet him before rummaging through both my closet and then Sam’s to find something to wear. It took me most of the day to decide, but I settled on a knee-length black dress with a ruched bodice and a pair of pumps. I was going for simple and classy.  
    When I arrived at the building at 6 p.m., I rode the elevator to the floor Dallon King had provided in his instructions, surprised when the doors opened to reveal a glass wall with the name Walters King Capital. I hesitated, certain I’d made a mistake, and checked the email again. But there was no mistake; this was the building and floor Dallon King had provided me. I noticed the receptionist watching me quizzically through the glass wall and entered the office.  
     “Do you have an appointment?”  
     “Yes, I’m here to see Dallon King.” It sounded more like a question than a statement.  
    “You must be Amy Clair,” she said and put out her hand. “I’m Madeline. Would you like a glass of water? Mr. King is just finishing up with a meeting.”  
    Soon I was perched on a leather chair, sipping my bottle of water while looking around nervously. The reception area was sparse, modern. Almost cold. I was about to pick up a magazine and pretend to look nonchalant when Madeline called my name, asked me to follow her. She led me through a hallway and knocked once on the door at the very end of the hall. The nameplate on the door read Dallon King, President.  
    “Come in,” a deep voice said.  
    Madeline smiled reassuringly and opened the door.  
    My first