Yes, Mistress!

Chapter 1: Fancy Envelope

Trying to escape the blistering chill of Manhattan, Scarlett Sinclair rushed out of her Range Rover, directing herself into her office building, carrying her latte and her files. She almost sighed as she crossed the entrance, feeling the interior warmth enveloping her.

“Oh you’re back!” She barely walked in when she heard the receptionist waving at her to get her attention before prying as usual, “So... how was the date?”

Scarlett stopped in her tracks and couldn’t help the grin from adorning her lips as she approached the desk, “Come on, Lara…” She leaned against the counter, making eye contact with her, “Is that even a question? I thought my track record would speak for myself by the time.”

The receptionist scoffed at the undeniable pride that woman was exuberating. Scarlett dreamily said, recalling the event which was fresh in her mind, “You should have seen him. He was absolutely charming! He ticked off all the right boxes for a first date. He’s a good one. I knew it the moment I saw him.” 

Lara laughed, “Tell me something new. You said that about that cute guy yesterday…” 

“Did I?” 

“Annnd… same with that handsome basketball player the day before.” 

Scarlett smugly said, smoothing her blazer, “What can I say? I’m just that good at choosing men.”

Lara snickered, “For everyone else but yourself.”

“Take that back!” She couldn't believe her friend just said that out loud. Thank God, nobody was around the corner. 

“Nuh-uh. Face reality, cupid.”

One of the two receivers began ringing on the desk and the receptionist sighed in frustration before saying, speaking faster, “Girl, before I forget to tell you, a fancy manila envelope arrived for you this morning!”

She briefly acknowledged her with a nod and walked through the open wide area, vaguely hearing her friend switching back to her more polite and pleasant business voice as she spoke on the phone, “Hello, thank you for calling TheOne Elite Dating services. This is Lara speaking. How can I help you?”

Scarlett had just come back from a restaurant where she had set up a client with his date. A renowned attorney with a nurse. It would seem an unlikely pair at first glance but the moment, she had taken a look at their individual profiles, seen how they fit together, she had hastily made the calls and promptly arranged for them to meet. It had been sweet to watch them exchange the first awkward pleasantries. The ship has been sailing smoothly and she knew it would turn out good for them. A match made in heaven.  

The business was small and yet, thriving. Excluding the boss and the receptionist, only eight of them worked on the frontline, directly dealing with customers. She greeted some of her colleagues on the way and finally settled in her cubicle. 

The task was rather simple; create a tailored dating experience for clients willing to pay the price for it. They didn’t have to worry about a thing. She would hand select matches, book the appropriate venue, arrange the timing; basically coordinate the entire date so that the client could focus on the fun parts of dating.

She booted up her computer, sipped into her warm latte before cringing at the foul taste. She distastefully set it aside, silently reprimanding herself for trying a new place. God. She would give anything for a decent cup of coffee. 

She caught sight of the black envelope the receptionist was talking about and she slid it towards her, seeing her name written on it in bold gold letters. Hah! Classy.

She neatly teared it open with a ruler, took out the letter she found inside, reading the words that have been typed in a font too cursive for her taste: 

Dear Ms. Scarlett Sinclair, I’ve heard about your formidable success rate in finding matches for the most eccentric people. I wish to recruit you for a delicate task. Your discretion is highly appreciated. A Rolls Royce will come and fetch you at 15:00 outside your office building. We’ll sign the cheque if you agree to meet us for a discussion.

She gawked at the letter, rereading it. It must be a sick joke. They must be mad if they thought she would agree to something as suspicious as this... or give any special treatment. She was already fully booked anyway. She doubted she could fit someone else in her schedule. 

She peeped inside the envelope, taking out the unsigned cheque and nearly choked when she saw the figure. One followed by four zeroes. 

Her heart began pounding in her chest. This must be a high-end client. She had worked with a lot of them before. This one wouldn’t be much different, would it? 

“You okay there, Scarlett?” Her nosy neighbor rolled his chair back, peeping into her cubicle and she shoved the letter and the cheque back in the envelope, laughing nervously, “Yeah, William. Just bought a bad latte. I’ll be right back.”

She pushed her chair back, walked across the room, heading to her boss’ office. She knocked at his half opened door once and asked, “Is this a bad time, Gabriel?” 

The man smiled warmly at her, looking up from his computer screen, beckoning her in, “Not at all. You alright? You look pale.” 

She walked inside, closing the glass door behind her a bit louder than she intended, feeling the curious gazes of her colleagues right outside. That wasn't too subtle of her, was it?

“Take a look at this.” She handed him the black envelope. As he went through it, she leaned against his desk, by his side, crossing her arms. His grey eyes scanned the letter. She observed how he stared at it, frowning slightly, gazing up at her in confusion, his jaw dropping when he then caught sight of the cheque’s figure. 

It trembled in his fingers and he set the papers on his desk as if it was burning him. Even the premium annual subscription fee they charged their clients didn’t reach that figure. He ran his hand through his rich black hair, letting the whole thing sink in.

She impatiently drummed her fingers along the edge of his desk, on the black envelope, “So…?” 

He shook his head, gazing into her hazel eyes, “You know, this looks terribly similar to those congratulations, you won the lottery annoying pop-up ads.” 

“You think this is a scam?” 

He hesitated, “Who in their right mind will agree to pay ten thousand dollars for a date?” 

“Maybe that person has specific extravagant needs? We’ve encountered those kinds before.” 

He shook his head, reaching up towards her arm, giving her a light gentle squeeze, “I’m not letting you get in a car with a stranger, Scarlett.”

She covered his hand with hers, “This could give us a small relief in paying off the new branch in Paris. We’re still short on 300k right?” 

“It’s not due until next month. We’ll manage just fine.” 

“Gabriel… let me do this. It’s not as if that person will kidnap me in broad daylight, mmh?” 

“I can’t take a risk. It could be a rich sick pervert. You’ve got the looks of a diva.” 

She broke into a small smile, “I’m not sure if you’re worrying about me or flirting with me.” 

He winked, handing her back the envelope and its contents, “Both. I’ll let you decide, Scar. I don’t want you to feel pressured by the company’s issues. Just let me know what you do, alright? Don’t take this matter lightly.” 

“Sure.” 

“Let me treat you to dinner this weekend?” Where did that come from? Certainly, he couldn't mean their monthly team building dinners.

He then stammered, averting his eyes, realizing what he just did, “To… um, compensate you for being so considerate... and an excellent matchmaker.” She laughed, brushing her hand against his shoulder, “I’d be happy to, boss.”

She walked back to her cubicle, absently looking at the screen of her computer. She clicked on a few files and skimmed through the neatly organized profiles of her clients, wondering who she was assigned to next. Work would surely keep her preoccupied from all those nerve-wracking distractions.

Lara was always mocking her that she was waiting for too long for the perfect guy... or girl. She criticized her that her standards were set too high. Was she at fault though? She never liked boring or sweet. 

She wanted someone that could commit to her, not just on an emotional level but on a physical level as well. She found herself dreaming again. He or she would have to be exciting. Cryptic. Someone who would set her heart on fire, who would take her pleasures to new heights, who would understand her needs without her explaining every little things. 

She wondered if Gabriel could do that. He was definitely handsome and she knew they looked good together. She respected him, in a way… admired him but that was because he was such a smart and successful man. 

The only issue, ignoring their boss-employee relationship, was that she knew too much about him and it wasn’t just with him... It was with everyone. 

She could read people like an open book. A mere observation at subtle mannerism and she could easily guess exactly the kind of person that she was dealing with. Ironically, that was that specific quality which made her excellent at her job.

She automatically mused about the envelope which was now peeking from her file and she firmly looked back at the screen, frowning at herself as she gave it a deep thought. It did seem sketchy. She should not be blinded by money. Even though she knew it would help Gabriel a lot. Not to mention the generous commission she would get on that. 

For all she knew, maybe Gab was right to worry. It could be a sick rich man with psychopathic intent or worse, a killer. She shuddered at the thought. Crimes have been rising these past years. She would do what a sensible woman would do and ignore the existence of this black envelope and its contents.

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