1. The Prank

Chapter one

The Prank

I ’m sitting in a private plane with a glass of champagne, heading over the Atlantic Ocean to an island off the coast of Greece. And my favorite country star, Kent Edwards, is sitting in front of me, beaming a blue-eyed and dimple-cheeked smile at me.

“I take it you weren’t expecting company,” he says. I down my champagne too fast and choke.

I pour myself another glass and draw a shaky breath. No, I was not expecting company. I’m wearing my cozy cat pajamas, a peel mask, and a hairnet to tame my unruly black curls.

I boarded this plane thinking I was buying into a prank thrown by my brother, Todd. Any moment now I expect him to jump out and yell surprise. I was not expecting to sit with a gorgeous celebrity who’s trying to engage me in civil conversation.

And as far as I can see, we're the only passengers, but there's lots of bustling and chat going on through a curtain that partitions off the back half the plane. That must be where everyone else is.

Kent Edwards is still looking at me. I manage a shaky smile. “What do you mean? This is the look I was going for. All the rage in Paris,” I throw back.

He smiles genuinely at that. He’s got a clean-cut, country-boy look that’s somehow still rugged. Like he could work on a farm, in the heat, shirtless… A blush rises to my cheeks as my thoughts stray.

“Kate?” he asks.

I swallow and manage a nod. I can’t believe he knows my name. “Heard you were a fan. That’s why I’m playing tonight.” He pats the guitar that sits beside him. “You’re the guest of honor, right? Understand there’s quite a shindig planned.”

What shindig? My brother Todd could be planning a very elaborate secret party. But that’s not his style at all. And how could he afford this plane, let alone the gorgeous celebrity staring at me? Todd runs a boxing gym that barely scrapes by.

I’m sure my cheeks are entirely red by now. They’re hot, and I feel faint.

Maybe I’m dreaming. Maybe Todd won the lottery. Or maybe my theory about this trip being a hoax is falling apart. Which means I really signed up to sell my virginity for five million dollars.

I dismiss the idea immediately. There was no way someone would buy my flabby ass’s thirty-five-year-old virginity for five million dollars. It’s much more likely I would pay someone to finally rid me of my v-card.

But wait, didn’t Kent Edwards ask me a question? He’s still looking at me. I make an awkward croaking sound and am relieved when a pretty flight attendant comes over. I don’t miss the admiring look Kent gives her.

“Ms. Dimitrou, I’ve been asked to escort you to the back of the plane. Right this way,” she says. Oh thank god. They probably seated me here by mistake.

I gratefully unbuckle my seatbelt and follow her to a section at the back of the small plane, through the partitioned curtain. I'm expecting a lower class area, but it looks exactly the same as the section I just left.

There are only about ten seats in the whole plane, and they look like the first-class cabins I’ve walked past on the odd occasion I’ve flown anywhere. Heaps of leg room, and still no other passengers so far except Kent and me.

The flight attendant smiles at me prettily, and I return it with only a small pang of envy.

Some people are attractive, and some people aren’t. I’m not hideous looking. Even my brother, Todd, agrees with that, and he’s not one to throw around compliments. I just had the bad luck of getting along with the prettiest girls in my year of nursing school.

I wouldn’t have given their friendship up for the world, but I soon learned that I wasn’t the girl guys were looking at when we went drinking. I was the heavy girl with the smart mouth they tried to ditch, the one the girls insist they bring along to a second venue.

The first time a man really seemed interested in me I found out it was a bet to lure me away from my friends. I remember the gut-churning shame when he confessed the game. “No hard feelings,” he’d said. I threw my drink in his face, bit back my tears, and stopped going out at all.

Maybe I took it too personally, but it was a relief to be done with worrying about men. I stopped worrying about how I looked and studied instead. By the time my friends were getting married, I had been promoted above all of them, but I’d never been on a real date.

I have a good life. I have a brilliant career, and I still had great friends and family. And I stopped fantasizing about a white picket fence years ago.

But now and then, it bothers me. Maybe Todd’s right - maybe I am ‘the stupidest smart girl ever’.

I figured the email I got about the virginity contract was Todd playing a mean, targeted joke. It’s crueler than it’s meant to be - I’ve never admitted my secret desire for a partner and a family. Honestly, I mostly try not to think about it.

So, I’m playing along. I want to see how far he’ll go. At some point, the prank will fall apart. But the lengths so far are unreal. There’s a website, legal documentation, STD test results from the man buying the virginity, the option to talk to a previous ‘donor’, and now this plane.

As the plane took off, I reviewed the email and the terms of the contract. It all looked legitimate and legal. There were no clues there.

Despite the careful temperature control of the plane, I feel hot.

The flight attendant comes up to me with a laptop in hand. “You requested to speak to a donor, Ms. Dimitriou? She’s ready for you now.”

“Call me Kate, please,” I say.

She pulls out the tray in front of me and opens it, then takes a seat nearby.

A stunning young girl looks at me from the screen. She must be no older than 18, slim, and has long blonde hair pulled back neatly from her face, wearing a white blouse and minimal makeup. Everything about her says efficiency. She glances at my face mask and cat pajamas and says nothing. That makes it so much worse.

“Nice to meet you,” she says. She smiles, and it seems genuine, but her tone is clipped. Despite her youth, this girl clearly means business. “I’m Tamara Sanders. I was the first to engage in a virginity contract with the Zodiac Organization, a little over a year ago now, and I’m here to answer any last-minute questions. First, I want to say congratulations on getting this far. There are hundreds, if not thousands, of applicants for this role. And I can tell you, the money from this deal changed my life.”

I swallow. This doesn’t feel fun anymore. Tamara looks and talks exactly like a girl who would sign up for a real virgin selling contract. She looks nothing like me. It’s cruel how different we are. I’m not sure even Todd would be this mean.

I take a breath, my face heating for a different reason now. “Ok, you can tell Todd to stop playing now. The joke has gone far enough. And tell him he’s an asshole.”

Tamara pauses on the screen and raises an elegant eyebrow. How is someone so young also so intimidating? “This isn’t a joke, Ms. Dimitrou. I’m sorry if you thought it was. You still have options to back out. You have to be willing. They still have time to find another donor.”

I choke and fight back the tears that prick my eyes. This is humiliating. My voice hardens. “Look, I’m sure they’ve paid you well, but this is getting cruel now. You are obviously a woman a man would pay to fuck. And I…” I rip off my face peel, not caring about the sting it leaves behind. “I am not.”

On screen, Tamara pauses as if considering. Then she leans forward. Her eyes are flinty, her voice hard. “Kate, this is not a joke. I sold my virginity, and I was paid well for it. If you’re too insecure to think this is real, let me assure you - men will take all kinds. If he wants to pay to fuck you, and you get five million in the bargain, who gives a shit if he thinks you look like a supermodel? Take the fucking money. You might even have a good time.” She sits back. She smiles and her lips twitch with mischief. “I sure did.”

“Now, it’s up to you, but I’m a busy girl and you’ve got to get ready. If it helps at all, this won’t be like anything else you’ve ever experienced. Pretend to be someone else if you have to. And leave with five million.”

She hangs up, and I’m left breathless. Oh, she was good. I barely have time to recover when the flight attendant collects the laptop from me. I was hypnotized by Tamara Sanders - I hadn’t noticed her standing beside me, hearing everything.

“If you’re ready, Ms. Dimitrou, we’ve been asked to get you ready for this evening. Styling and wardrobe will be in shortly.” I stay in my seat and watch her retreat in a daze.