Or one day. Depending on the top secret requiring-NDA-signed reason.
Though yeah, I'm very curious to know his dating history, what he owns or to be specific, how did he gain his wealth. Most importantly, what juicy gossips I can gather from the internet; the ones their PR team decided to be known to the world.
Owen Harris is an English former professional footballer-
I choke on my saliva reading that last word. Footballer? Professional footballer? Okay. Explains the muscles.
Born, height, spouse, number, children, okay boring. Because the only part that's filled is the born, number, and height. But good, he's not cheating then. No wife, no kids. Nothing against my principles.
Because there's no way I'm gonna be with a cheating douchebag, not even for a million bucks. Girl got codes.
What is Owen Harris net worth? I click at that because damn, I really wanna know.
420 million. Uhuk uhuk!
Instead of choking, I'm coughing non stop looking at that number. Damn. That's a lot of millions. Really? From just kicking a ball around the field?
I just need to know, scratch the itch, so I google why Owen Harris is so fucking rich. There's no way he gains that much money just from playing a sport.
Footballer. Model. Businessman. Chef.
Okay. Did not expect that. Chef? Wow. Why the hell would he need Cupcake then? He has everything. He can even date her gorgeous colleagues; those models.
And that's where the gossip search begins. Who's the girlfriend, if he's dating any celebrity, or if he has a rumor about having a child with someone, anything. Just anything to back up the fact he needs Cupcake to get a girl to fuck.
But there's no scandal worthy pictures of him with any woman. None. Nada. It's just his modelling pictures, or him on the green field, heck there're a lot of photos of him as a chef too, posing with the pots and pans, and sets of knives. Along with the ladles and a bunch other kitchen utensils. Haha cute, like a little boy dressed in a little chef outfit playing with a plastic kitchen set.
"He's kidding." I gasp reading the part where the contract tells me I'll be living with O.H since the first day onwards. Which the contract duration is recorded to be from 17th of July to 17th of October, with the possibility of extension to 17th of January.
He sure is confident with himself because I never do more than 12 weeks.
But again, the reason I did that was because I need to focus on my finals that's why I end things few weeks prior my most important exam of the semester.
Though this time around, my internship is gonna start from 1st of August to 31st of December, according to my offer letter. So I can tolerate this contract until December, I guess.
Nevermind, just leave it be. Afterall this contract is only valid for three months. If I were to extend to January, I'm gonna have to sign the contract extension before 17th of October. We'll see how things go before I decide that.
Because again, it all depends on that annoyingly confidential reason.
"He's not." Miss Collins replies my rhetorical comment. This girl has no sense of humor whatsoever, a total 180 degrees different than Helen.
"Tomorrow is the 17th." And we just met yesterday. It's not even a full 24 hours.
"So I have to move today? Or tomorrow? Since the contract starts tomorrow."
Miss Collins looked like she's unsure herself, "Mr Harris didn't specify that in the contract."
But my eyes are already reading the next sentence while waiting for her reply. Which this certain words have definitely sway all my doubts away. I'll fucking move right now if he wants me to.
The basic allowance would be USD1500 a week, excluding other allowances.
Damn, I even get other allowances. When on average, I only get like five to seven hundreds pounds a week. That's a thousand bucks compared to this fifteen hundred bucks a week. Oh wow.
He really lives up to his name. Definitely OH wow.
Just like what I had with Helen, once the contract is signed, I'll need to wait for my sugar daddy to contact me either via a text, a call, or emails, if there is no specification in the contract regarding the place and time.
In my case, there's none.
So like an idiot, I come home and pack my stuffs, while wait for him to contact me.
I've cancelled my appointment with the real estate agent. At one point I'm relieved that I won't be spending that much money for accommodation because apartments in New York are freaking expensive, but I'm also worried if I cancel the arrangement, where do I live since I'm gonna need a place to stay while waiting to move to another place.
It's okay, let's dive into the ocean first. Afterall, from the first meeting yesterday, he seems like an amazing guy.
Heck with fifteen hundred bucks a week, I'll even call him a miracle if he wants to.
My phone rings with the word RESTRICTED pasted on the screen. Guess this is him?
"Good afternoon, Eee." I laugh at the nickname he calls me.
"Elle please," I correct him. There is no way I'm letting him call me that. Imagine I'm accompanying him at one of those prestigious ball and I'm meeting my future good-looking, millionaire husband, but he's calling me Eeee in front of him. Duh, definitely not classy.
"Why not Estelle?"
"Don't waste you saliva for another syllable. You're gonna need it to wet something else." He laughs heartily the moment I finish my sentence.
"I was about to ask if you're ready for me but okay, that sounds more than ready."
"When am I moving in?"
"Eager Estelle." I can feel he's smirking on the other line.
"It's just that, I booked this airBnB till tomorrow afternoon so if it's later, I'm gonna have to ask for an extended stay or perhaps we meet somewhere else."
"No you don't have to do that. Text me your address, I'll come and get you in two hours. Is that okay?"
I'm definitely relieved I don't have to ask for the extension, because money matters even for a mere hundred bucks.
"Yeah okay. I'll pack my stuffs then." For the fact I already packed everything since hours ago. But I'm not gonna show him how eager I am. I'm not Eager Estelle, I'm the Exclusive Estelle.