Your Waiting Arms

The year my family goes bankrupt, I cling to Ewan Rivera for one last night. When I wake up, I throw my final bit of money at him.

"You can go cozy up to some other sugar mommy now. You don't need to degrade yourself by serving an ugly woman like me."

I'm kicked out by the people liquidating our assets, and everyone points and laughs at the birthmark on my face.

Meanwhile, Ewan's friends are busy celebrating his fresh start.

"With a face like yours, tons of wealthy, gorgeous women are lining up for you. Why torture yourself with that ugly chick?"

"Now that she's bankrupt, she won't cling to you anymore, right?"

Five years later, Ewan has gone from being a broke campus heartthrob to a rising star in business.

In the interview room, he flips through my application and pauses on my photo. He asks coolly, "You're 28? You already have a child?"

I meet his probing gaze and introduce myself. "Yes. I'm Ingrid Landeau. I'm married with a daughter."

I've changed my name and removed the large birthmark on my face.

Ewan can't recognize me anymore.

I never imagined the résumé I submitted would end up in Ewan Rivera's hands, and that he would be the one interviewing me. The second I pushed the door open, my breath faltered.

He sat behind his desk, a pair of rimless glasses perched on his straight nose. He turned the pages of my résumé with his long fingers. His gaze moved from my photo to my face, a probing look in his eyes.

"Ingrid Landeau? You graduated from Walden College, and you're applying to be my personal assistant?" He tapped the desk and raised his eyes lazily.

He continued, "Do you know what it entails? To put it bluntly, you'll be like a housekeeper. I have a lot going on day to day, so there are countless details you'll need to pay attention to."

He was still talking, but my mind had drifted back to the night we parted years ago.

Back then, Ewan wore a shirt washed to the point of fading. I yanked his collar open, sending the buttons flying. I pinned him to the bed and kissed him without rhyme or reason.

At the same time, I spat the most vile words I could think of. "You must be the happiest of all to see me go bankrupt. Finally, you don't have to swallow your pride to wait on me.

"It must be disgusting to look at my face, isn't it? Well, even if I'm broke, I can still afford to buy one more night with you."

He said nothing. His gaze was dark and unfathomable; his hands found my waist with practiced ease. When it was over, I tossed him a card and bought out the first half of my ridiculous life.

"Are you sure about this?" Ewan drummed his fingers on the table. His voice was ice-cold, and his eyes calm and unreadable.

He