16. Bailey

"Tell me about your husband."

"He's amazing." I sigh and flop the back of my hand over my forehead. I laugh. Harper does the same thing whenever he's being dramatic.

I'm lying on the sofa in the flat I share with Otis, my feet hanging over one end. He's sitting in the armchair adjacent to me. It must look like we're in a psychiatrist's office.

"Uh-huh." Otis threads his fingers together over his stomach. "Tell me more."

"He's always doing sweet things to make me smile or laugh. He's gone volunteering with me. Several times, actually. I taught him how to cook, and now it's his new favourite hobby." I chuckle and roll my eyes at myself. "Maybe that's an exaggeration, but he does it without complaint, especially when we cook together. He persuaded me to start painting again, and now I can't stop. It's like he released the creative dam inside me through, well, being his goofy self. Damn, he's adorable."

"And how's the sex?"

I shoot Otis a glare.

"It's a fair question. Inquiring minds need to know."

"Your dirty mind needs to know, more like."

He grins and shrugs.

I stare at the ceiling. "The sex is great."

Otis clears his throat and leans forward onto his thighs, hands clasped between his knees. "My expert opinion is that you're falling in love with your husband."

I snort. "What expert opinion is that? You're an accountant."

"Are you denying it?"

I pinch my bottom lip between my teeth. Am I falling in love with Harper? My heart quivers. My stomach flips over. Fuck. Never mind falling. I think fallen is the better descriptor.

"What am I going to do?"

"This might be a crazy idea, but you could tell him."

"I can't do that."

"Um, why not?"

"Because we're supposed to be getting divorced in a few months." I feel sick even thinking about it.

It's been five months since Harper whisked me away to Vegas to get married. Five months. It's a long time and no time at all. In seven months, we'll get divorced and part ways and this crazy dream will be over. Seven months. It's a long time. Longer than we've been together. Why does it feel like those seven months are going to come and go in the blink of an eye?

"Key word—supposed to be."

I scowl. "That's three words."

"Eh, you get what I mean. The plan could change, Bailey. If you both want it to."

"Why would he want me?"

"Uh, because you're amazing."

"He could have anyone he wants. Besides, the whole point of this marriage was that he doesn't want anyone. He doesn't want to be tied down. He thinks he's not cut out for marriage."

"Is that true?"

"No. I thought this arrangement would be a lonely one. That I'd live in his house but barely see him. That he'd go out of his way to show how terrible a husband he is. But the opposite is true. He makes me happy, Otis. So damned happy."

"I think he likes you," Otis sing-songs.

"As a friend, maybe. Definitely as someone to fuck while he can't fuck anyone else."

"Stop."

I press my lips together.

"Stop this crap right now," Otis says firmly. "I get it. You have abandonment issues because of your shitty parents. You can't believe something this good can happen to you after the shit you've been through. But you are a caring, compassionate, and all-round wonderful person. If Harper is going out of his way to make you smile on a daily basis, it means he likes you."

"That's your professional opinion?"

"Damn right it is. I'll stake my reputation on it."

"As an accountant?"

He grins. "Tell him how you feel. Communication is the key to a long and lasting marriage."

"But this marriage isn't meant to last."

"Wasn't meant to last. Things change, Bailey. Feelings change." He pats his thighs. "And I think it's time I got to meet him. I need to give him the best friend speech."

"The best friend speech?"

"Yeah, where I threaten to punch his lights out if he hurts you."

I rub my aching chest. "He's meant to hurt me, Otis. He's meant to be a terrible husband, so I want to divorce him."

"But he's not, and you don't."

"Besides, you're not even supposed to know about him. I'm bound by a non-disclosure agreement."

"And you're married, which is a matter of public record."

"All right, you're not meant to know that this whole marriage is a sham and on a time limit."

"You just want to keep him to yourself."

"If this was real, I'd introduce you to him in a heartbeat."

"It is real, Bailey. And it doesn't have to be temporary. But it will be if you don't say something. Don't let Harper slip through your fingers because of some misguided belief that you're not worthy. You are."

My chin trembles.

"Try this. Picture yourself in seven months' time, signing divorce papers and walking away from Harper Carr."

I choke on a sob. "I don't want to."

"But can you?"

"Yes."

"Then do it. How do you feel?"

I close my eyes and imagine it. It feels like someone is scooping my insides out with a blunt spoon.

"Now picture yourself looking at your bank balance and all those zeroes that will be there when he pays you for spending the year with him."

I clench my stomach. I feel sick. "I don't want the money," I whisper. "I want him." I open my eyes and stare at the ceiling. "I'm in love with Harper."

"Yes, you are."

"I think you missed your calling. You should be a shrink or a relationship counsellor."

"I could pretend to be one to coax a love confession out of your husband."

"Yeah, I don't think Harper would fall for that. What am I going to do?"

"Tell. Him."

"You make it sound so simple."

"It is. Cook him a nice meal. Take him on a moonlit stroll. Whatever floats your boat. Then hold his hands, stare into his eyes, and say those four little words."

I frown. "Four?"

"Ugh. Do I have to spell it out for you? I. Love. You. Harper."

"And if he laughs in my face?"

"He won't. But if he does, he wasn't worthy of you anyway."

I suck in a shuddering breath. "This is a mess. It was supposed to be a job."

"Tell him."

"I should have kept my feelings out of it."

"Tell him."

"Hell, I shouldn't have slept with him. That was my first mistake." I press the heels of my hands against my forehead. "What was I thinking?"

"Tell him."

I glare at Otis. "Is that all you've got to say?"

"Yes. Tell. Him." He scoots to the edge of his chair so he can lean across and squeeze my knee. "What have you got to lose?"

"Him."

"You're going to lose him in seven months if you don't say anything. You don't want that, do you?"

"No."

He pats my leg. "You know what you've got to do, Bailey. Now get on and do it. Tonight."

"I can't. Not tonight."

"Why?"

"His mum has arranged a dinner to raise money for the charities I volunteer for." I grimace. "Only she thinks I run them." I wave my hand. "That's not important. I can't risk things being weird between Harper and me tonight. I'll tell him tomorrow."

"No. You'll tell him after the dinner. No running away from your Prince Charming."

"I'm not Cinderella."

"Aren't you? Evil parents. Humble beginnings. Rich and dashingly handsome prince."

"What does that make you?"

"Your fairy godfather, of course. The one who's giving you a little nudge to reveal your love."

"A shove, more like."

Otis laughs. "Tonight, Bailey. The moment the dinner ends, pull him into your arms and tell him you're hopelessly in love with him."

* * *

"Um, I think we're going the wrong way." I haven't been paying that much attention to our route, but we're in the wrong part of London for the charity dinner.

Harper grins. "We're taking a small detour. I have something to show you."

"What?"

"It's a surprise, husband." He leans close and kisses me tenderly.

I don't question Harper. He loves surprising me, and I enjoy being surprised by him.

Ten minutes later, we pull up on the street outside a youth hostel. At least, it was a youth hostel at one point. The windows are boarded up, and the faded sign is missing several letters. Graffiti has been sprayed over the walls and the door. Harper takes a key out of his pocket, hands it to me, and gestures to the door.

"What is this?" I ask.

"I'll explain everything inside."

My heart quivers as I unlock the door and step inside. Harper uses the torch function on his phone to reveal an empty reception area. The building is musty, and dust covers everything. He leads me through doors to the left, into a room that was probably a canteen when the youth hostel was open. Next, he shows me a few rooms, some of which have dilapidated bunk beds. All the rooms have sinks in. Some have en suite toilets and showers.

"What is this?" I repeat.

"Nothing, right now. It will be a homeless shelter."

I widen my eyes. "A—what?"

"The first shelter owned by a brand new charity. It doesn't have a name yet or a logo." Harper gives me a hopeful look. "I was hoping you'd design one. A logo, that is. But if you can come up with a name too, that would be even better."

"I don't understand."

"It also needs someone to run it and spearhead fundraising. Someone with the life experience to relate to the people who need to use the shelter. Someone with the passion and people skills to convince people to donate money." He presses his palm over my heart. "It needs you, Bay."

"Me?"

"The building is paid for. As soon as you decide on a name, we can formally register the charity, and I can transfer the deeds into its name. I've ring-fenced donations that will help run the shelter for the next five years."

"Five years?" My head is spinning. My stomach is twisting and churning as though I'm riding a breakneck rollercoaster.

"Yes. No matter what happens between us, that money belongs to the charity. I won't be everything you need, but it will be a good start."

"What happens between us…" I turn away from him. "Why would you do this?"

"Because I can. Because I can't stand the thought of anyone having to spend a night on the streets when I can do something about it." He puts his hands on my hips and rests his chin on my shoulder. "Because I believe you can make a huge difference in the lives of lots of people. Because I—" He kisses my neck. "I believe in you, husband."

I stare around the bedroom we're in. "It's a lot to take in. I can't believe you've bought this building."

"It has enough space for fifty people, but you might want to turn one of the smaller rooms into a space for staff to get some sleep. It'll need more than two of you to run the place each night. You'll get volunteers, but you'll want some trained staff." He chuckles. "I promise I won't be poking my nose into the day-to-day running. It won't be anything to do with me. I'm just the benefactor helping you get it off the ground. This is your project. Run it however you want, Bay. Change people's lives for the better."

I turn around, wrap my arms around him, and press my face to his shoulder. "Thank you." What else can I say? "Only, I don't know the first thing about running a charity. I'm a volunteer."

"You'll learn." Harper strokes my back and hair. "I believe in you, Bay."

I sob. "You're amazing." I lift my head. "I—" My tongue turns to lead. I can't speak. Can't say the words that are aching to be released. This is a wonderful, generous gift, but it doesn't mean he loves me.

"Will you run it?" Harper asks.

"I'll do my best."

"Will you come up with a name and design a logo for it?"

I laugh. "So this is why you wanted to get me painting again?"

He strokes my cheek. "Hm, one of the reasons." He trails his thumb over my lips. "I wanted to be able to tell you earlier so we could make an official announcement tonight at dinner. But things took longer than I thought. So for now, the charity needs to stay between us."

I nod.

"Don't worry. Mother is letting me introduce you. I won't say anything that makes you out to be someone you're not. I'll say something along the lines of you being there to thank everyone for their generous donations to the charities you work with. None of that is a lie, is it?"

"No." I'm not lying at all anymore. I am in love with my husband. How could I not be? He's proven time and time again how thoughtful, caring, and amazing he is.

"We should go."

"Okay."

"Start thinking about how to do this place up." Harper holds my hand as we walk towards the entrance. "Maybe you could paint a mural in the canteen."

"I've never painted something on that scale before."

He nudges my shoulder. "There's a first time for everything. Do you have any ideas for a name?"

"Hope House." I brush tears from my eyes. "When I was homeless, someone gave me the hope and means to change my future. That's what I want to do here."

Harper squeezes my hand. "Perfect."

I lock up and hand the key to Harper.

He presses it into my hand and curls my fingers around it. "It's yours, Bay. We'll sort out all the legal stuff with Clive over the next few days, and then you'll be able to start transforming the hostel into a shelter. Oh, if you're okay with it, I thought Clive would be a good person to have on the board of directors."

"A lawyer you know and trust? I'm more than fine with it. What about you?"

Harper shakes his head. "It would be a conflict of interest because you're my husband."

My chest tightens. "Harper—" I snap my mouth shut as the driver opens the back door of the limo for us. Not now. Don't say anything now. Get through dinner first.