Convincing Carlos

"Come on in." Greg calls out.

I look to the door to see a handsome Hispanic hunk wearing a black two-piece suit that doesn't fit with his cocky smile, five o'clock shadow, and wild curly hair. Nor does it fit the aviator shades he removes, revealing his brown eyes.

"Hello Greg." He says.

"How's it going?"

"Good." He then turns to me with a smile. "Who's this?"

I smile back at him. "Amelia. I'm Greg's assistant."

"Ah. Lovely to meet you."

"Likewise." In fact, you're a fucking blessing compared to this old slimeball.

Carlos then takes a seat, and then asks "So what's the occasion?"

"Well as you know, with your father's passing, his company is in turmoil."

"It is."

"And you're the only one still holding out on the board."

"That I am."

"What's it going to take?"

"Has the contract changed since last time?"

"No. I want to know what you want changed?"

"May I read it?"

"Of course."

Carlos studies the document as wait for his reaction. After a while, he says "This the best you can do?"

"Well-"

"Carlos, isn't it?" I interject.

Carlos looks to me. "Yes?"

"How old are you?"

"28."

"Married?"

"Single."

I stand up and lean forward. "Look, I'm all for family pride, but is it really worth it? You'll spend all your life working your ass off and for what? Being a boring old fuck like this guy?"

Greg scoffs. "Amelia."

"C'mon Carlos, you wanna live a little, don't ya?"

"I mean I guess."

"Then take the money. Live a little. I think your dad would rather you're happy than keeping his company alive."

Carlos shrugs. "You have a point."

"And you're a smart guy. I'm sure with this buyout, you could make an investment or two."

"Or you could work for me." Greg interjects.

"You seem much better at this then him."

"Oh, I think I just speak your language, that's all."

"I think you do."

"And I'll make it an even better offer."

"How's that?"

I strut around the table, and once I'm beside Carlos, I run my hand across his cheek. "Because, I'm part of the offer. I'm not an assistant, I'm an escort?"

"A what?"

"An escort. Or a prostitute if that's your language." I cock my head to Greg. "This old fucker is so bad at his job, he thinks he needs a whore to convince you."

"Hey." Greg snaps.

"What? I'm doing my job. You're welcome by the way."

"I think she's better at it than you." Carlos interjects.

He then grabs the pen and signs the contract.

Greg sighs as he stares blankly at Carlos, before muttering "Thank you."

"So, shall we get down to business?" I ask.