Chapter 3

Glen fell silent.

After a moment, he told the saleswoman, "Do what she says."

Therefore, an hour later, I managed to put together an outfit that highlighted my figure and perfectly fit the role of a CEO's girlfriend all on a budget.

Glen stared at me, looking surprised. "You really know what you're doing."

"I'm only being professional," I repeated, like always.

"Come on," he said, clearly in high spirits. "Time to introduce you to some people."

My heart skipped a beat.

Wait, was I about to meet his parents already? Wasn't this moving a bit too fast?

Unexpectedly, he brought me to the VIP lounge of a racetrack. Inside sat several men about his age, all sharply dressed and radiating bold confidence.

As soon as Glen walked in with me, James, the guy with a streak of blue in his hair, let out a whistle. "Well, Glen, is this the girl you fell in love with at first sight?"

Glen slipped his arm around my waist, pulling me close with a proud grin. "Nicole Jones, my girlfriend."

I played along, giving a shy, sweet smile and snuggling a little closer to him. "Hi, everyone."

James scanned me from head to toe. "Not bad, Glen. She's way better than that ungrateful girl."

Another guy, who appeared more composed, nudged James, signaling him to stop talking nonsense.

"Hi, Ms. Jones, I'm Alan Rogers," he said, reaching out his hand.

As I was about to shake his hand, Glen held my hand firmly and said to Alan, "Just call her Nicole."

I was speechless.

Mr. Griffin, where was this sudden possessiveness coming from? Alan only wanted to shake my hand.

I kept my thoughts to myself and gave a proper smile.

For the rest of the time, I slipped right into my role. While they chatted about racing, I sat quietly next to Glen, serving him coffee. When they talked business, I acted clueless, looking down at my phone and staying quiet.

Occasionally, someone would steer the conversation toward me, asking what my family did or where I worked. I'd give my standard answer: "I come from an ordinary family. I'm not working right now. I'm completely supported by Glen."

I said it openly, without an ounce of shame.

Those rich guys looked at each other and then at me, their faces showing slight surprise. It was probably the first time they'd seen a woman talk so openly about being kept.

As the gathering wrapped up, James pulled Glen aside and whispered, "Dude, this girl is on another level. Are you sure you can handle her?"

Glen glanced over at me, who was standing patiently not far away, and smiled.

"I'm not sure," he said. "But honestly, I'm finding her more and more interesting now."

The ride back was quiet. I thought he might give his thoughts on how I did today, or maybe even score me.

However, out of nowhere, he asked, "Why don't you care what people think of you?"

"Like what?" I asked.

"They say you're gold-digging," he replied.

I turned to look at him; the city's neon lights flickered across his face.

"Mr. Griffin, yes, I want your money. That's the whole point of our arrangement, isn't it?" I shot back. "If I told you I loved you for who you are, and it has nothing to do with your money. Would you believe me?"

He went quiet.

"See? You don't buy it." I shrugged. "Then why should I care what anyone else says? Let them talk. At the end of the day, I got all the money I needed."

I paused, locking eyes with him. "Besides, being gossiped about is part of my job. Your payment covers the mental stress I have to deal with."

Glen was at a loss for words again.

The car pulled up outside my apartment. As I was about to step out, he suddenly called my name. "Nicole."

"Yeah?" I replied.

"Come with me to Griffin Manor tomorrow," he said.

My stomach clenched.

Were we going for the ultimate challenge already?

"I want you to meet my grandfather," he added.

Heading to Griffin Manor was definitely a tough task.

I spent the whole night digging through my notes from The Kept Woman Handbook, cramming the "How to Please Difficult Relatives" section like I was prepping for finals.

*****

I got up early the next day, put on a "natural" makeup, and picked a Chanel set that looked very elegant. Of course, Glen bought it.

When Glen showed up to pick me up, he raised an eyebrow at my outfit. "Are you going for an audition?"

"No," I said, looking serious. "I'm going to meet your family. I'm trying to leave a good impression."

He laughed and fastened my seatbelt for me.

On the way to Griffin Manor, Glen was unusually nervous, repeatedly warning me, "My grandpa's got a bit of a temper. If he says anything unpleasant, don't take it seriously."

I nodded. "Relax, Mr. Griffin. I'm a pro. As long as I have my pay, I can handle anything. Even if he hits me with his cane, I'll smile and ignore it."

Glen was speechless.

*****

Griffin Manor was a classical courtyard, elegantly decorated, with pleasant scenery.

An elderly man, spry and dressed in a suit, sat on a bench in the courtyard, holding a cup.

This was Shawn Griffin, Glen's grandfather.

"Hi, Grandpa," Glen said, stepping forward with respect.

Shawn glanced at him, then turned his sharp gaze to me. "So, this is the girl you said drives you crazy, huh?"

I was stunned.

Drove him crazy? Come on, was he exaggerating a bit when talking about me?

Glen cleared his throat awkwardly. "Grandpa, this is Nicole Jones."

"Nice to meet you." I stepped forward and bowed slightly, my voice steady, neither humble nor overbearing.