Chapter 10

Chapter Ten

WINTER

There was no way he just said that to me.

Just. No. Way.

I stared at James, certain my hearing was off from the late night-trip to the ER, and possibly some kind of latent trauma response confusing me.

"I’m sorry, James, but it sounded like you just offered to marry me so I could access my trust fund." I waited for him to say something but he didn’t. He kept his eyes firmly on the road. "But I know that can’t possibly be what you said…because…that’s just crazy."

"Is it really that crazy, though?" he asked without looking at me.

I continued to stare at him for a moment, trying to make sense of the disbelief bouncing around inside my head like a pinball game—complete with sounds. "Yeah, it is totally freaking batshit crazy, James."

"Okay, you’re right, it is a little crazy, but I’d still do it." He finally turned in my direction, nailing me with his gorgeous eyes, appearing completely at ease with his idea. I’d known James a very long time—knew when he was teasing—but he was definitely sincere right now. I couldn’t believe it.

I gulped. "But why would you?"

"Because there’s nobody else in this whole world I want to help more than you." He didn’t hesitate for even a second.

"Oh…" My heart gave me a jolt as I comprehended what he really meant. He wouldn’t be doing it for any other reason than to help me get access to my money. "So just on paper for legal purposes," I said.

"Isn’t that what you would want, Win, a paper marriage?"

"Want? Well, no…I definitely haven’t dreamed of being married in name only, existing only as a couple on a piece of paper, but I certainly might consider it to be able to put my money to good use without having to wait six long years for it."

"I can draw up a prenup and have one of the partners present it—protecting your trust, of course—and I’d take no assets upon dissolution."

Dissolution?

He means temporary.

My weary brain finally caught up and figured out precisely what he was suggesting. James wasn’t offering anything beyond a marriage on paper, which would grant me access to my trust fund, and then at a later date we would quietly dissolve the marriage. I tried to slow the pounding in my chest, but his actually stung a little. It wouldn’t be out of love. "You would do that for me?"

"I would."

"What would you get out of it, though?"

"You," he said simply.

"What does that even mean, James? I am so confused, and just so you know, suggesting we get married isn’t helping my confusion to lessen even a little." It was hard to be mad at him, but I seriously couldn’t take any more of his mysterious crap.

"I know, Win. I realize we need to talk about a lot of things and figure shit out, but I’ve asked that we not do it today. I know I brought up the marriage thing, and I’m very sorry. My timing is really bad, but can we just put these ideas aside for a few hours and try and enjoy Thanksgiving dinner? We’ll work everything out to where you’re comfortable with the plan, or we won’t do it at all." He reached for my good hand and squeezed it. "I promise. All you have to know right now is that you are very important to me, and I’d never hurt you. I want to spend Thanksgiving with you."

He pulled into the long private drive that led to the front of his parent’s house, pausing in pleading his case so he could park the car. "We’re here anyway, so it’s a perfect stopping point for this discussion. We will pick it all up later, okay? Can we do that, sweetheart?"

Whenever he called me sweetheart I melted, so I did the only thing I was capable of doing. I nodded slowly, and gave him my agreement. I didn’t know what to say to him anyway. What words could I possibly use that would clear up the fog that felt like it was growing thicker by the minute.

Thank you for offering to marry me, James?

You are the most generous friend ever?

I just might take you up on your proposal?

There was only one problem with agreeing to his plan.

Being married to James in name only would probably kill me.

Vanessa Blakney had always been lovelyand sweet to me. Judge Blakney, on the other hand, gave the impression he might be contemplating roasting you over an open spit and eating you one bite at a time. Seriously, the man gave me the creeps. How he’d fathered such beautiful children like James and Victoria remained a curious mystery. That, and how his wife had managed to stay married to him for thirty-plus years. She had the look of a woman who pretended, almost as if she was on autopilot with her conversations and behaviors. For example, while we were eating, she barely touched her food. It was weird, because it almost felt like she was present for ornamental purposes only, but not supposed to enjoy a meal. Or participate. Still, her love for her children was apparent, and I could tell she was happy to have them home for the day. Victoria’s fiancé, Clay, was absent though, something about being away in Europe .

"I’m so sorry about your accident last night, but we’re thrilled you were able to join us for Thanksgiving, dear."

"Thank you for welcoming me into your beautiful home, but really, James gave me no say in the matter. He colluded with my brother and my mother to keep tabs on me today." I hoped a little teasing might help lighten the mood.

I glanced at James beside me to find him grinning like a devil. "I know a thing or two about collusion," he said, "and I definitely know how to close a deal."

No doubt on that point. I think James could get me to do anything by merely asking. I was hopeless when it came to him.

I laughed him off and refocused my attention to his mother, because she was the one who had addressed me, but Judge Blakney inserted himself into our conversation. "Yes, social work is your focus at university, is it not?" He leveled his cold gray eyes at me in a way that made my spine tingle, and not in a good way. More like a bug under a magnifying glass with the sun burning a hole right through him.

"Yes…I’ll have my master’s in social work in another month. Then I’ll apply for my license with the state so I can practice."

"Ah, a public servant. How noble. I must say it’s very useful in its way…at least for the time being." James stiffened beside me, obviously annoyed by his dad’s comment. He reached for my hand under the table and squeezed it. I assumed it was a signal to avoid taking the bait and responding defensively to the thinly veiled insult, so I took the high road instead.

"I hope I can be useful to those that need some help," I said firmly, meeting his callous eyes head-on. After my long night, I was in no mood for delving into another one of those conversations that started with: "Are you sure you want to surround yourself with poor people and their problems?" I’d heard it before, and I was sure I’d hear it again considering the world I came from, but the way in which James’s father spoke to me sounded so archaically pompous, like he was of a higher class of human than the rest of us—even better than his own family.

What an incredibly heartless asshole.

Did he not have a shred of compassion for others in hard situations? And he was a fucking judge—the most revered "public" servant of all. God, pity the poor souls who had him assigned to their cases.

"I think you misunderstand me, Winter. I do approve of your endeavors to help the poor and disenfranchised. It will make for good press certainly." His eyes held no trace of insincerity.

What the hell? Now he was bestowing compliments? I didn’t know what to make of that last comment he’d thrown at me about "good press" but I decided I wasn’t going to engage him. If he could speak in riddles, then so could I.

"Actually, I am hoping to set up a private shelter facility that I will spearhead. That’s my dream." I looked at James again and smiled at him, hoping he caught my appreciation for his offer to help me realize my dream. Even if it didn’t work out, just the fact he was willing to do something as drastic as marry me so I could get to my money left me utterly speechless. Come to think of it, James was really good at rendering me speechless over a lot of things.

James gave me a wink back and said to his father, "I’m very proud of her and her altruistic ambitions."

"As you should be," Judge Blakney said with a thoroughly disturbing smile.

The tingle in my spine returned, and as it zapped me a second time I had to suppress a shudder. What is his deal? I’ve known him for years and he’s never been this weird.

"Please don’t take anythingmy father says to heart, okay?"

This was Victoria trying to smooth things over for her badly behaving parent while we set up the desserts to bring out later.

"It’s okay, I’m used to it actually. What he said is nothing I haven’t heard before, Victoria. Really, I can take it."

"Well, it’s still rude as hell for him to even say one thing to you about what you choose to study in school, or what to do with your life. But I get it. He didn’t even want me working for your brother as PA to the head of a billion-dollar corporation. He said that being a personal assistant was not a worthy occupation." She rolled her eyes as we both laughed at the ridiculousness of her statement.

"Yeah, well Caleb would probably give you a share in BGE to keep you as his PA. He’s really worried you’ll leave him after you get married."

"Caleb doesn’t have anything to worry about, and I’ve told him that. I love my job, and nobody is going to dictate what I choose to do for a career." I sensed she might be referring to her fiancé, but I didn’t want to be nosey and ask her outright. Clay Whitcomb was a charming guy, handsome and successful, but there was something just a little too shiny about him. A high-profile lawyer like James, but in a completely different way. Where James was serious and all business, Clay came off as arrogant with a little bit of snob thrown in. I didn’t really see his attraction, but Victoria must see something in him that the rest of us didn’t, because she’d agreed to marry him. Their wedding was planned for July.

"So, you want me to tell Caleb it’ll be easier for you stay on as his PA if he doubles your salary? I’ll be seeing him this weekend at Lucas’s place on the island," I teased.

"Oh, please tell him hi for me," she said a little too quickly.

Why would she need to tell Caleb "hi" when she saw him every day? Weird. "Okay…I will?" I left the question dangling.

"I meant Lucas…tell Lucas I said hello." A flush appeared over her face, and I got the impression there was far more to this story than I was aware. Lucas and Victoria? I didn’t know of the two of them having any kind of history, but then secrets are meant to stay secret, so it wasn’t out of the realm of possibilities that I wasn’t in the know. I kept pretty busy with school and work most of the time. Interesting. Yet she’s engaged to another man.

"I will tell Lucas then," I promised. "He’s going to pick me up from the helipad at BGE in the morning. It’s a good thing I trust his piloting skills, because I am not a fan of helicopter rides." I shook my head. "Have you ever flown with Lucas?" It was a calculated question on my part—I was curious to see her reaction—because I am a hopeless matchmaker. My sister would verify the "hopeless" part due to some disastrous dates I set her up with before she met Roger.

"Once."

I caught some regret in that one small word, and she didn’t offer anything more to elaborate, so I let it go. Vanessa joined us then and asked if everything was ready, so it was time for a change of topic anyway.

But I’d noticed something important in my conversation with Victoria.

What had started out being about Caleb, quickly switched to Lucas the instant his name came up. She didn’t acknowledge my offer to bribe Caleb into giving her a raise for agreeing to stay on as his PA—which was easily a joke, but seriously a viable option for her if she ever wanted to use it on him. Most people would at least laugh at the humor in the silly words rather than ignore them completely. But not Victoria tonight. Hmmm.

She also never mentioned her fiancé in the course of the entire afternoon. Not that she missed him, or that he might have arranged a phone call from wherever he was to wish her and her family a happy holiday—just nothing at all. It struck me as odd, because Victoria wasn’t normally so quiet. Her silence was actually surprising.

"Is your hand hurting, dear?"Mrs. Blakney asked kindly when she found me tossing back a couple of my prescription painkillers amidst dessert. Choosing between the exquisite-looking pumpkin cheesecake on my plate and pills would normally be a no-brainer. Dessert always won. But today, less than twenty-four hours since I’d sliced my hand open, I needed the pills more.

"It is starting to ache again actually."

"You must have been so frightened when it happened." She focused on the bandage covering my right hand. "Was it terribly painful?"

"It wasn’t really. That’s the ironic thing. The knife injury didn’t hurt, in fact I didn’t even feel it happen. It was the sight of all the blood that got me. I just can’t tolerate looking at it. I basically passed out and don’t remember very much about last night." I smiled at James and then leaned into him a bit. "If it wasn’t for your son helping me, I don’t know where I’d be right now."

Judge Blakney said, "You’ll have to work on that when you start a family. Children bloody themselves all the time."

Excuse me, but what?

Where in the hell had that comment come from?

I gave the judge my best resting bitch face and shrugged. "It’s a very good thing I intend to focus on my career for the moment, then."

Judge Blakney raised a challenging eyebrow, first at me and then at his son, but kept any comments to himself. Probably a smart move on his part based on the anger James was throwing off in tense waves. His whole body was stiff beside me yet again. Clearly, his father irritated the hell out of him. His dad was an ass.

I marveled at how the judge could effortlessly turn any topic into something weird and mysterious, while Mrs. Blakney did her best to defuse the awkwardness her husband’s comments caused. And she’s had over thirty years to perfect it. Definitely a saint. Jesus, how the heck did she put up with him?

"What color is your dress for The Autumn Ball?" she inquired in an attempt to change the subject. "Victoria and I just had our fittings earlier this week."

"Black," I answered. "I know it’s not very festive, but I love the dress, and it just…works very well…for me this year."

She reached across the table and squeezed my undamaged hand in the sweetest gesture of comfort.

She understood. She totally got that I was still mourning the loss of my father and didn’t feel particularly celebratory at attending this first major charity event since he’d passed. And I greatly appreciated her silent message to me.

"I have some stunning opera-length gloves I’d like to show you that would probably go nicely with your black gown. They are a beautiful dark coral. Nobody will ever know you’ve hurt your hand if you wear them."

"How kind of you, Mrs. Blakney. I would love to see them. That’s a really good idea for accessorizing this year," I said, holding up my bandaged hand. "I’m going to need something pretty to cover up this ugly thing."

"Oh, please call me Vanessa, or even better just Mom…if you prefer," she said with another sweet smile.

Ohh-kay then.This whole afternoon just kept getting weirder by the hour.

I nodded and smiled back at her while squeezing James’s hand under the table for some kind of reassurance.

He leaned in and whispered, "They all adore you, even my prick of a father thinks you’re perfect."

Perfect for what, exactly? His father thought my career choice was substandard at best and would…do until I started a family. Call me Mom? They thought there was something between James and me? How ridiculous.

Yet.

He’dsuggested we get married on the way over… Had he said something to his parents before I arrived to make them believe that? Like this was a test run, or something?

Was James truly serious about his offer to marry me?