TIMELINE: Set before the Curse was broken, but after Emma arrived in Storybrooke. Pretty Woman!Rumbelle AU

NOTES: Thanks to indiefic for her help!


Chapter 1

The first night:

Maybe Mr. Gold was one of those guys who wanted the girlfriend experience. The fact that that he spent so much money just to have her exclusively for every night during the next seven days suggested that. It also suggested that he might be a controlling creep. And the fact that he lived in a pink mansion didn't help.

Jolie Gardens checked her make up in the gilded hand mirror she always carried around in her purse and reapplied her red lipstick, before she got out of the car and closed the door. Her stomach fluttered like it always did when she met a new client. Like it always did when she met any client.

Money, she thought, holding on to her small black clutch with both hands. Freedom. She had to do this and she would.

Dustin, her driver, rolled down a window. "I'll wait here until you text me you're safe," he said. "Call me, if you need help. I'll kick the door in in seconds, okay?" Dustin was a big man with even bigger muscles and Jolie didn't doubt his words for one second. Dustin could be a sexist bastard sometimes, but he had always been there for her when one of the clients tried to take more than he had paid for.

Pulling down her red dress, that had run up her thighs during the ride here, Jolie nodded. "Thank you, Dustin," she said.

He frowned. "Be careful with that man," he said. "Gold is not only the richest man in Storybrooke, but also the most dangerous one."

For a moment Jolie wondered if he was messing with her and she searched his face, but he seemed sincere. Fantastic! Just the thing a girl wanted to hear before she met with a total stranger to have sex.

Money. Straightening herself up, Jolie walked towards the entrance. Freedom.

The door opened before she had the chance to knock and Jolie found herself face to face with a man she had seen before. The man with the long hair and the cane had interrupted her session with Paul yesterday night. Mr. Gold was the man who hadn't been able to take his eyes off her. Now he wore a different suit than last night, but the look in eyes was the same. Open and vulnerable and full of adoration.

That moment, Jolie had no doubt that this man in front of her would grant her anything she'd ask of him. And like last night, it scared her. The power he gave her over him scared her. His intensity scared her. And most of all it scared her that she wanted to hug him and promise him that they would be all right. As if they would even exist. So she had winked at him yesterday. She had flirted, had teased, because she had been on a job.

She didn't know him and he wasn't her salvation. This was business. Money. Freedom.

Today she gave him her best impression of a sexy smile, before she swiftly flung her arms around his neck and pressed her body against his, turning her urge to hug him into what this really was. A chance for him to feel the merchandise.

"Hello, Darling," she whispered against his ear. He smelled nice. Fresh, spicy.

He froze. Tensed up and didn't move. But Jolie could feel his cock twitch against her thigh. Now that was something she knew how to work with. Smirking, she pulled back to look at him, her hands shifting from his neck over his shoulders to his upper arms.

"I'll take good care of you," she promised him.

He swallowed hard. "Let's not get ahead of ourselves," he said and flashed her a shark-like smile. "Please call me Mr. Gold."

"Of course, Mr. Gold," she said teasingly. "My name is Rosie, but you can call me whatever you like." Maybe she should've felt intimidated by him, with Dustin's words still fresh in her memory, but she felt strangely safe. Besides, one client had wanted her to call him Batman and this wasn't weirder than that.

His gaze dropped to her lips and she wondered if he'd be a gentle kisser. Not that she'd ever find out. She never kissed a client on the mouth. Never.

"So, Mr Gold," she added, running her hands back up his arms and playing with the collar of his suit jacket. "What do you want to do next?" She licked her lips just to mess with him.

"Well…" He had to clear his throat. "Dinner is already set in the dining room."

"Sounds perfect," Jolie said with a smile, rubbing her hips against his.

Inhaling sharply he gave a short nod and took a step away from her. Her hands dropped to her sides. Before she followed him into the house, she turned around and waved at Dustin. Her gut told her she wouldn't need him tonight.


Beautiful wasn't the right word to describe the dining room. Blue wallpapers with subtle, geographic ornaments and flat sculptures of different kinds of wood decorated the walls and a large wooden table dominated the room. It felt elegant and masculine. This dining room wasn't beautiful, it was handsome and it represented its owner quite well.

Mr. Gold had prepared a lasagna and while she ate, he played with his food and watched her. It was troubling. Not because she was worried about him, but because she started to forget why she was here.

It was never smart to forget who you were, but unfortunately Jolie had a tendency to hide in illusions. He made her forget that she was here because he owned her for the night. He made her feel warm. He made her feel like a person. This was very troubling.

She caught herself wondering what it would take to make him touch her. She wanted him to touch her. He hadn't touched her yet. Not once. She touched him. She had basically thrown herself at him at the entrance and during the dinner she kept touching his arm. He always seemed a little shocked by it, surprised and he started smiling at her. Not that shark smile from earlier, but a genuine smile. So she wanted to keep touching him because his smile was so sweet. This was silly. She felt like they were on a date. She felt like he genuinely cared about her. This was dangerous. She was no damsel in distress and he wouldn't be her prince on a white horse. All the saving she needed, she had to do herself. She would please him so much, he would instantly hire her for another week and her freedom would be closer again.

And just like she hoped he guided her to a bedroom after they finished their lasagna.

"That's your room," he said as he opened the door.

The words didn't really register with her. She just stared at the beautiful room. Cream white walls, a thick, fluffy carpet in wine red and a canopy bed in the middle of the room. The windows overlooked the garden and wild flowers bloomed beneath the window. Two nightstands stood on each side of the bed, a different golden lamp on each of them. A big TV screen hung on the wall across from the bed.

"You like it," he stated eventually and she looked at him. There was such relief on his face, such sweetness. She felt so warm under his gaze, she just wanted to rub herself against him and purr like a cat.

This was insane. She didn't even know him. Hell, he didn't know her either. He ordered her like she would order a book. And she was here because of the money. Time to remind them both of that.

She looped her arms around his neck and pressed an openmouthed kiss against his throat, just above his collar. "I love it," she chirped and it felt fake and safer already. If she had learned anything from her job, it was how to fake it. Kissing his throat again, she pressed against him and could feel his erection. She swayed her hips and kissed her way from his throat to his jaw. She nibbled on his earlobe and he shivered. His cane landed on the ground with a thump.

Groaning he caught her hips with his hands, but instead of pressing into her, he stilled them. "We need to talk about the rules, dearie," he panted.

"Sure." She nipped on his earlobe again, his fingers dug into her flesh. "Condoms are mandatory, I carry some in my purse. No kissing on the mouth, no anal, no smacking me around," she listed.

He pulled away until their gazes met. She didn't like the expression on his face. Now he looked intimidating.

"Somebody hurt you?" he asked dangerously low.

She smirked, her fingers playing with the hair on the nape of his neck. "Darling, nobody does anything to me without my permission."

"You're lying," he said, squinting at her. "Tell me who hurt you."

Right now his firm grip on her hips started to be painful. She raised an eyebrow. "Trying to save me?"

He didn't answer, just stared at her, waiting until she had to break the gaze. Since offense was always the best defense, she kissed his throat again. He wasn't her salvation, seemed like she wasn't the only one who needed a reminder of that.

"You can touch me, it's okay," she whispered against his skin. Still peppering his throat with kisses, she slipped her hands between their bodies and unbuttoned his blazer. He was warm and she felt hot. She wished he wouldn't be such a gentleman. She wished he wouldn't be so kind.

When she tried to push his blazer off his shoulders, he caught her wrists in his hands. Seemed like he only ever touched her to stop her from moving. She missed the warmth of his hands on her hips. He wanted her, she could feel how hard he was for her. She looked at him and saw the desire in his eyes.

He was breathing heavily and for one second she thought, he might kiss her, but instead he took a step back, his hands around her wrists holding her at arms length. Gosh, he looked sexy.

"You'll take on no other clients aside from me," he said, his voice hoarse. "This is exclusive, understand?"

Nodding, she tried to lean into him again, but he kept her at distance. She wondered if he would be hers exclusively too.

"You'll come here each night and sleep in this room," he continued. "Do we have a deal?"

She shook her head slowly. "Sure, Darling." Then she bit her lip before she smirked. "I mean, Mr. Gold."

His eyes darkened and for a moment she imagined him pushing her against the wall, holding her hands above her head and kissing her, pressing his body against hers. And she could feel herself getting wet.

"Then I'll let you get settled." He released her wrists. She reached for him, but he just took another step back. "You can stop working so hard, dearie," he said. "I won't fuck you tonight." His tone was harsh, he sounded like he was on the run.

She looked at his erection straining against the cotton of his pants. "But you want me." She wanted to take his cock in her hands, she wanted to taste him. She wanted to see him lose control because of her. She wanted –

"I don't pay for sex." His words showered her like icy water.

She gulped and crossed her arms in front of her chest. "Then why am I here?"

His expression changed and for a second he looked at her like he had yesterday. Then she saw something in his eyes which looked a lot like desperation.

"I pay for your company," he said quietly.

"So you'll come back later? Sleep in one bed with me?" Jolie had a client like that once. His wife had recently died and he had just wanted somebody to hold him. He had cried in her arms all night. What she did wasn't always about sex, though it was easier when it was just about sex. Otherwise things could get complicated. Like now when she found herself looking forward to cuddling with Mr. Gold. She enjoyed this more than she should. He didn't feel like a client. He felt good. He made her feel good. She would feel better if he'd touch her and his rejection stung. How sick was that?

Smiling his shark smile again he bent down and picked up his cane. "Have a good night." With that he turned around and walked away from her.

"If you pay for company, then why are you leaving me now?"

"Don't be disappointed, we still have more nights to come, dearie," he said without turning around.

That was the third time he called her dearie. He hadn't called her by her name even once. He didn't even know her name. To him, she was Rosie, the call girl. It shouldn't bother her, but it did.

She watched him leave, then entered the room, leaving the door open behind her. The bed was huge, space enough for two. Sighing, Jolie sat down on the bed and kicked her shoes off.

Seemed like she got paid to sleep in this perfect room that made her own home look like a shack, and still she wasn't satisfied with the situation. This was very troubling.