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Terms and Conditions Apply Novel Cover

Terms and Conditions Apply

When a high-stakes legal contract forces an unexpected union between a sharp-witted woman and a powerful billionaire, their strictly professional arrangement begins to blur. Beyond the cold terms of their agreement lies a web of corporate secrets and a dangerous mystery that threatens to dismantle their lives. As mutual distrust turns into an undeniable attraction, they must navigate a world of wealth where every truth comes with a price.
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Chapter 2

I looked at her in wonder, amazed at the coincidence and her quick deduction.

"Yes!" she shrieked.

"Tahlia.. What's going on?"

"Don’t you think this is the part you say thank you?" she asked smugly, folding her arms.

I scoffed. "Thank you for what? Look, I’m not joining a company that monetizes heartbreak."

Her smile faded.

"So I wasted my time staying up half the night, helping you with the online screening test in June?"

"I never asked you to."

"No," she said flatly. "But I still did it."

I rubbed my forehead lightly as I exhaled.

"Tahlia is not like that. I had no idea you did all that two months ago. And a matchmaking company? Of all places? I really appreciate the effort, but..."

"Drea," she cut in gently, "you already do this. You listen. You remember details. I've watched you talk people through things when they are overwhelmed."

She smiled. "You remember when you didn’t let me ghost Jack?. You stayed on the phone with me for two hours after that awful date. This is literally YOU. I just found a place that pays you for it. The app was way too polished when I checked it out. You should have seen the branding and the interface alone. I couldn’t even afford the basic membership fee. Think of how serious the salary might be."

"Ok... Fine," I gave in, throwing up my hands. "Can we leave now?"

She shook her head. "Alone? Yes. I’m still hurt by how ungrateful you sounded."

I sighed, fully aware of how badly I had handled everything. "Alright, I’m sorry. I promise to make you a nice meal this weekend as an apology."

Tahlia arched a brow. "Not that. I'd prefer a girls’ day out when you get your first paycheck."

I looked at her, surprised. "You’re really that sure about me?" And we both burst out laughing.

* * * *

Days later, my Toyota Corolla was a mess. It always picked the worst possible day to develop a fault. Unfortunately, it chose this day, the day of my interview at Love Incorporated.

Tahlia and I sighed, our eyes meeting. Usually, we would giggle at timings like this, but this wasn't the moment for such jokes. It was only twenty minutes to the time scheduled, and Tahlia needed to make it to her shift. Earlier, the plan had been simple - drop Tahlia off before heading to Love Incorporated, relying on Google Maps to get me to it's destination.

"Ok... I know what you have in mind, but let's be optimistic. Today is declared the last for your job hunting shenanigans!" Tahlia broke the silence.

I ran my hand through my hair, completely ruining the effort I had spent trying to make it look presentable. "I don’t even know how we fix this. You should be heading to your shift, and we can’t just abandon the car here. It’s barely parked."

"Breathe, Drea. This isn’t the end of the world." Tahlia said calmly.

She reached over, smoothing the loose strands of my hair like she always do whenever I'm overwhelmed. "We’ll book a ride, and you’ll hop out here, and go ace that interview!. Don’t stress about anything else. I've got you..."

Our exchange was cut short by an impatient honk. A young man sat behind the wheel, his eyes fixed at us, his face looked annoyingly familiar.

"You know you’re blocking half the lane, right?" he said, amused. "Might want to fix that before someone tows you."

The Ads guy? He appeared almost unrecognizable with his cashmere sweater layered over a shirt.

He squinted at me like I was a puzzle piece, exclaiming upon realization "Hold on... Andrea?"

In a flash, he moved his car forward, parking in front and before he starts to head towards us, I quickly whispered to Tahlia.

"That’s him. The ad guy I mentioned. The one who told me about the app, right before the surprise email"

Tahlia’s brows shot up, but she didn’t get the chance to say anything. He was already peering through the window, close enough that I caught the scent of cedar.

"I’m technically late," he admitted, checking the time, "but if this is a quick fix, I can help. Five minutes. Give or take."

Tahlia and I shook our heads in unison. This wasn’t something five minutes would fix. My car visited mechanics more often than I visited my family house.

"Her interview," Tahlia cut in sharply. "You would end up being her colleague, you know?. I’d really appreciate it if you could give her a lift."

I didn't expect that bluff from Tahlia. I shot her a look, heat creeping up my neck as he gasped in surprise.

"You're one of the candidates Mr. Bradley shortlisted?”

“Come on, we have to go now." He maintained, pulling the car door open.

"He’s strict about punctuality and trust me, you don’t want to start off on the wrong foot." He added.

I hesitated for a second before coming down.

"Text me how it goes," I said to Tahlia, a little embarrassed.

“Just go," she urged.

I walked briskly behind him till we got to where he parked, and then he held the door open with a grin.

"Kylian, but everyone calls me K," he said. "Good to see you again."

~ ~ ~

Minutes later, we were literally jogging down the marble hallway from the parking lot. I tried to keep my jaw from dropping. Love Incorporated was far bigger and fancier than I had imagined.

The building shined under the morning sun, all glass and sharp steel edges, with a sleek façade bearing Love Incorporated™️ boldly inscribed in red.

The door automatically opens, and Kylian slowed to a brisk walk as we got to the wide reception area. From the passage, my eyes skimmed the gold accents and velvet chairs. The decor was simple. Still, it felt like walking through a luxury hotel.

“Go ahead, take a seat. Interviews will start shortly,” he said, already walking away.

I obeyed, immediately noticing the other candidates. Two young men sat at my left, both dressed like they had rehearsed their confidence in the mirror. One kept adjusting his tie like it was trying to strangle him, and the other continuously tapped his foot. The female among them stared straight ahead, her makeup perfectly sculpted.

I fixed myself on an empty seat close by, watching Kylian speak to the receptionist. Her gaze slid past him to me, widened, then snapped back to her screen as if it had personally betrayed her.

I swallowed, darting my eyes to the right hand side of the room. There, three employees sat at their neatly spaced individual workstations. Their whispers not so low that I couldn't hear.

"Who is she?"

"She came in with Kylian."

"No way."

I shut my eyes briefly, entirely unbothered by their words. ‘Lord please. This should be the last'

The sound of footsteps made me flip my eyes open and a man appeared in front of us. He was averagely built, sharp eyed and if I should guess in his thirties.

"Welcome everyone. I am Mr. Bradley and the interview will be conducted by a VIP client. Please be prepared. First impressions matter."

A VIP what? Strange... Who was this person? And why did it feel like the room had just grown ten times bigger, and I was suddenly smaller?

"Come with me," he added quickly.

One of the young men moved ahead too quickly, nearly brushing past me like he couldn’t wait to be seen first. I and the others followed with Mr. Bradley leading.

We walked towards a quieter corridor, away from the bustle of the main floor, before getting to a monochrome art display, and then a softly lit waiting nook.

A row of closed offices with matte glass doors stood just before we approached a private executive lounge. This room was more beautiful than what I had seen at the main floor - warm lighting, leather chairs, a long polished table that looked too expensive for casual opinions.

Mr Bradley stopped by the door, exchanging a brief nod with the client, before urging us in. What follows next was the door closing softly behind us.

And then I saw him.

A tall man indeed. Tall enough that the room seemed to adjust around him. His gaze moved over us, deliberate and assessing, as if already deciding who was worth his time.

Slowly but graciously, he sat, adjusting his light gray suit that probably cost more than my rent for a year. He checked his watch, silver and sharp against his cuff, raising his chin after, and that moment I notice just how striking his face was.

Our eyes almost meet, but her open admiration interrupted the moment. The female candidate didn't hide it. She inhaled deeply, her lips parting as if he'd walked out of a fantasy.

When he finally looked at us, boredom was clearly written in his eyes.

"I’m Everett Langston," he said flatly. “If you’re easily intimidated, you can leave now."

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