Total pages in book: 60
Estimated words: 59022 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 295(@200wpm)___ 236(@250wpm)___ 197(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 59022 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 295(@200wpm)___ 236(@250wpm)___ 197(@300wpm)
He came down to my room? This is the first thought in my head… how did he get this letter here, under my sheets? When did he just walk into my room? I know it could have happened, but I just can’t remember seeing him disappear for so long. And even though I did my best to ignore him I couldn’t. I always knew where he was or who he was talking to, so how could he have possibly had the time? Or maybe he paid someone else to do it?
Do you want to obsess about that now Charlie? Or do you want to read the clause?
I’ll worry about it later! Right now, I just need to know what’s inside the clause. I rip open the envelope and am relieved it’s only one page.
Can’t be so bad if it’s just…
Oh shit.
It’s formal. It’s definitely formal.
I, Charlie Lyn Horseman, do solemnly agree to keep all information—past, present or future—regarding Stetson Alex Nicholasen or his ancestors strictly to myself. Should I break this contact, the Nick Group will be forced to pursue damages.
I stop reading. Damages? What kind of damages? They don’t specify which makes it even stranger.
I keep reading.
By signing below, I accept that I am forever subject to the full extent of the Clause Law.
Furthermore, I, Charlie Lyn Horseman, vow never to betray Stetson Alex Nicholasen. “Betrayal” is hereby defined by Stetson himself (and only Stetson), including but not limited to: violation of trust, confidence, or Christmas cheer. Stetson reserves the absolute right to update, edit, and republish his definition of “betrayal” at any time he sees fit— up to and including December 24th, 11:59, North Pole Standard Time.
Failure to comply will result in coal, lawsuits or worse: removal from the Nice List.
I laugh, it’s uh, festive? I’ll give them that. Maybe they’re trying to go with the Christmas theme? Rich people are funny like that anyways. I shake my head. I’ve stopped trying to figure out billionaires, kind of hard to solve their puzzles when they aren’t even aware milk cartons don’t really exist anymore.
This agreement requires Charlie Lyn Horseman to deliver in-person services for one holly-jolly night. The specifics shall be determined by Charlie and Stetson, fueled by mistletoe, mischief, and mutual pleasure. “Pleasure,” for legal purposes, shall include—but is not limited to—kisses, cookies, and Clause-related activities that may land one or both parties on the Naughty List.
Signed this day, Charlie Lyn Horseman— (Charlie Horse).
I read it five more times just to make sure I’m seeing this right. Oh, it’s right. Well…
I’m speechless again, because of Stetson, and he’s not even here. He already has that sort of hold on me and he’s not even standing in the room and yet, it’s almost like the paper holds his presence in a heavy way that leaves me breathless each time I re-read parts of the contract.
“It’s kind of hilarious,” I fight a smile as I look over the Nicholasen Family Clause again. They even have a freaking family crest. How cool is that? I can’t trace my heritage back the way they can and part of me is a bit jealous of that, the family ties, the heritage—what does he even really see in me other than what I look like? Why am I second guessing it anyway? It’s a fling. It’s Christmas. He’s rich. I’m here.
It's one night.
It says it right here in his clause… one night.
It’s weird though. All of it. From top to bottom, any way you look at it—Stetson facing off with a polar bear—this is weird. And if I’m suddenly going to look at it in another way, I’m leaving myself open for potential and seemingly inevitable demise at any point Stetson decides to change the rules. Kind of seems very unfair.
My phone pings.
I’m assuming it’s Grace, so when I see the name Stetson, I almost have a heart attack and even throw my phone away from me like it’s possessed. It kind of is… first he got in my room, now he’s programmed in my phone when I never did such act? Is this hot or stalker adjacent behavior? What the ever-loving Christmas magic is going on?
My stomach drops to my knees.
I fully lose my stomach through the floor into the freezing ocean—or so it feels like. And I’m not losing my stomach because I feel sick—I’m losing it because I’m so excited to look at the message. He texted me, calm down ovaries, calm the hell down, it’s a text not a friggin’ marriage proposal or offer to father our future children.
Stetson
Hi, Charlie Horse. I’m hoping you found the clause.
That wasn’t the first line I was expecting…cute, but unexpected. Insert swoon here.
I quickly text back.
Me
Are you sure you want to keep calling me Charlie Horse?
Stetson
It’s cute.
Me
Donkeys are cute.
I can’t believe I write that.