Alex

T he champagne is flowing, the buzz of conversation fills the air, the glittering lights of the Empire State Building paint a gorgeous backdrop, but all I can do is watch the beautiful couple on the dance floor. This must be their tenth dance together tonight. Not that I'm counting.

I grab another flute of champagne as it floats by on a tray, then look at my watch.

What is too early for the best man to leave? I wonder.

"Good to see you, ."

Harold Weinberger's rich baritone is unmistakable. He was my father's closest friend before his death six years ago.

"I'm glad you could make it," I say. "I'm sure Ryan is too."

Harold smiles as he looks at the dancing bride and groom. "His happiness has nothing to do with any of us," he says. "It's all about her."

"As it should be," I clink my glass against his. "To the happy couple, my brother and his princess."

"Here, here!" Harold says before he takes a sip of his drink. "You know that could be you out there."

I peer out at Carina as she floats in my brother's arms. She's wearing an elegant white gown with sequins that twinkle from the lights. Her curly blonde hair is held in place by a golden antique hair comb with blue stones. I wasn't exaggerating when I called her a princess.

I smile to myself as I think about my relationship with them and how much I would like my own bride. But some things aren't meant to be.

"I'm too old to be dating," I say. "My time has passed. I could never trust anyone enough for a commitment anyway."

"Too old?" Harold scoffs, then moves closer to me before lowering his voice. "Have you met Abe? He's one of the trustees that your father assigned to his will."

Abe is sitting beside a pretty redhead in her thirties. She leans over to kiss his cheek and then heads towards the bar. Abe swipes at his wispy white hair, positioning it over his scalp as he watches her walk away.

"I'm guessing that's not his daughter," I say. "I hope it's not with how he's looking at her."

A burst of laughter escapes from Harold, causing some people to turn his way.

I hold up my glass. "He's had a little too much," I say to them, holding back my own laughter before taking another sip.

"My point is that if you want to get married, you should. How old are you now? Fifty? And you've never been married?"

"Forty-six, and I haven't. You know how it is. There are plenty of women out there who would give anything to marry a billionaire. I want someone who will love me for me, not my money."

"Ahh, yes, the billionaire's curse. They always want our money." He sighs, and then his eyes widen. "You know what? You should talk to Abe," he says. "I don't know much about what he does, but he and his friends have been up to something."

"What do you mean?"

"Between you and me, I think they're arranging marriages. There are a lot of men out there like us who want or even need to get married but can't for whatever reason. I have no idea how he does it, but if you're curious, why not talk to him? What have you got to lose?"

I grab another glass of champagne from a passing tray and down the contents in one swallow. It could be the champagne influencing me or even the happy bride and groom, but everything that Harold said makes sense.

Looking back at the dance floor, I watch as Ryan dips Carina before kissing her lips. Her arms wrap around his shoulders as her lips press against his. When the song ends, they separate to applaud the band, and Carina notices me watching. A smile lights up her face, and she brings her hand up to her lips and blows a kiss to me before my brother whisks her away to their table.

"You're right, Harold. A conversation never hurt anyone," I say before heading over to Abe.

"What do you mean you're going to miss our tee time? Between you and Ryan, I don't know who is more difficult to get out on the green lately."

Daniel Faber is an old friend of my brother's. Until Ryan's wedding, the three of us had been meeting for a weekly golf game at the country club. I should've let Daniel know that I had plans, but it slipped my mind until I was on the way to meet the woman I might marry.

"I'm sorry, Daniel. I know this is last minute, but this is important," I say.

"You're joking, right? You're not really going to meet some woman for an arranged marriage, right?"

"I know it sounds ridiculous, but I have a good feeling about this."

"A good feeling? Listen, I know plenty of women who could give you some great feelings if that's what you're looking for. You don't need to get married for that."

"You know I've never been like you. You like putting yourself out there and meeting a ton of women. That's not me. I can't trust people as easily as you do."

"Trust? What I do with them has nothing to do with trust. Not unless there's a safe word involved." Daniel laughs.

"Come on, man, be serious for once. You never think about getting married? Maybe one day having some kids?"

"I did once. A long time ago. That wasn't meant to be, though. Listen, if you want to get all sappy and shit, I'll tell you. I believe there's one person out there for everyone. I already met mine, and I fucked it up. Because of that, I'm destined to live the life of a bachelor with a different woman every night." He sighs. "It's a tough life, but someone has to live it."

I shake my head. "What was that? Twenty seconds of seriousness? Maybe thirty?"

"It might be a new record," Daniel says. "But okay, fine, I can be serious. What do you know about her so far?"

"Not much. From what Abe told me, she comes from a wealthy family so she won't care about my money because that's a normal part of life for her."

"So if it's not about money, then why is she looking to marry some stranger? Don't you think that's odd?"

"I hadn't really thought about it. I just figured since I have my reasons, she has her reasons, too. It's something we can learn about each other."

"Ugh, you're being a little too positive about this whole thing. You know I don't think it's a good idea."

"I know you don't. And I wasn't sure at first, but I think it's the right thing for me. I want to get married. I'm tired of my restaurants being my life. There has to be more. Plus, you know how I am with women. I fall too easily."

"And what if you don't like her? Or what if…" Daniel's voice lowers to a whisper. "What if she's ugly?"

I laugh. "Will you stop? We're going to meet today to see how it goes."

"Alright, alright. But if she's ugly or stupid, then you know why she agreed to an arranged marriage. No other reason a woman would go along with this. Women are smarter than us."

"You're a horrible human being," I joke.

"I know, but you're my friend, so what does that say about you?"

"I don't want to know."

"Hey, you know what? Do you know Jacques Carpentier? I heard recently that he married a nineteen-year-old college student. Not like him to date someone so young," he says. "I wonder if that was an arranged marriage, too."

"You never know," I say.

"Nah, I can't imagine why he'd do that. He was always dating one beautiful woman after another. Then again, you're agreeing to an arranged marriage. Maybe I'm missing something here."

"I could always put in touch with the group."

Daniel laughs. "No, I don't know what I was thinking. Temporary insanity or something. Anyway, I'll talk to you later."

The tree-lined winding road reminds me of my Hamptons home, where I spend most of my time. Wagner Estate slowly comes into view, so I slow down the car, not wanting to be too early and appear too excited.

Abe didn't tell me much when he called to arrange this meeting. But he did tell me I would be meeting with Emil Wagner and his daughter, Emilee. My understanding is that this isn't the norm and that we usually meet at the wedding, but Emil wanted it this way.

As I step out of the car, the wind tousles my hair. Standing at the open front door is a butler in a traditional black suit.

Am I making a mistake?

The thought stops me in my tracks before I push away the doubts. While this might not be for everyone, I have high hopes.

The butler ushers me into an oversized office near the mansion's front door. A well-dressed man with thick salt and pepper hair is seated at his desk. He looks up from some paperwork with piercing ebony eyes and stands. As I approach, he comes out from behind his desk and extends his hand to me with a smile.

"ander Winterbourne," he says. "Self-made restauranteur who built the Stirling construction empire but was then disowned. I've heard a lot about you."

"I can tell," I say, shaking his hand. "And you're Emil Wagner."

His smile grows. "I'm sure you've done your homework. Come, sit." He motions to a corner of the office, where two plush seats are next to a stone fireplace. "We are both busy men, and if things work out as planned, we'll have plenty of time to socialize another time. Let's get straight to business."

The butler places two glasses of ice water on a small table between our seats. I take the glass and nod at Emil before drinking.

"I'm sure you have your reasons for wanting an arranged marriage," he says. "But first let me tell you mine."

He gets up and takes a photo from the fireplace mantel and hands it to me. It's a picture of Emil with a raven-haired beautiful young woman. She looks young, college-aged at most.

"Is this your daughter?" I ask, not wanting to assume.

"Yes, that's my Emilee." He glances at the photo and smiles. "She looks just like her mother."

"I don't know how to put this, but she looks young. I'm forty-six."

"I'm aware of your age and the twenty-four-year age difference between the two of you. It's one of the reasons I wanted to meet with you. I feel an older man will be better suited for her. Emilee is… different than other young women. She's an old soul but, regrettably, has been very sheltered. We lost her mother, Lee, in a car accident when Emilee was three. Emilee was in the car with her but survived. I swore I wouldn't let her out of my sight again."

He meets my gaze and nods. "Yes, I know how that sounds," he says. "Looking back, I know I should have done things differently. She was homeschooled and, for the most part, only had me as a playmate. She graduated high school early, at fourteen, but because of her age, I refused to let her go away to college, so I brought college here for her, either in person or over the Internet. She has multiple degrees in various disciplines. She is brilliant, but she has no idea how things work in the real world. She doesn't understand that not everyone has her best interest in mind. In that way, she is very naive. Almost childish. And that's my fault, so I intend to fix it. That's where you come in."

"I'm sorry, Emil, but I don't think I'm the right man. I'm looking for a wife. Someone who can be my equal, someone I hope to share genuine feelings and grow with. I'm not looking to be a babysitter."

He sighs and looks at his watch. "She was supposed to be here," he says. "She knew today was important. I'm sorry if I misrepresented things. You won't be babysitting her. I hope that one day you'll both have what you described. But right now, my daughter has been rebelling. She's entirely too stubborn and hard-headed. That's something she got from me." He grunts before taking a sip of his water. "She's going to get herself in trouble and as her father, I need to protect her in any way I can."

"I don't want to get in the middle of your family drama," I say.

"Please, , just hear me out. Man to man. You and I aren't very different. We're even close to the same age. When I heard from the group that you were looking for an arrangement, I knew right away that you were the one. Your age means you'll have more patience and you'll be more understanding. Your experience in business and life shows me that you'll be of equal intellect. And I know you. You're not one of those men who are dating constantly and treat women like objects. Age is just a number. If you met her, you would see that she is your equal. She's just a bit innocent. Naive."

We spoke a little longer, but once he realized Emilee wasn't showing up, we ended our meeting.

As I stepped back into the marble-floored foyer, I heard a commotion outside.

"Let me go," a woman says. "I don't want you anywhere near me."

The front door swings open. The sun spills onto the floor, reflecting against it and making the foyer even brighter. A woman with long, straight, glossy black hair enters wearing a floral sundress that clings to her curves. Close behind her, a muscular man growls something I can't hear.

"You don't have to tell me to go to my father's office. I know why you showed up. Do you have any idea how much you embarrassed me?" She jabs at the man's chest with her finger as she speaks.

She spins towards her father's office and faces me for the first time. Her high cheekbones have a youthful plump. Our eyes meet, and for a moment, it's just the two of us in the foyer. Her warm brown eyes have a wisdom beyond her twenty-two years. Her pouty lips part as if she's about to say something, but I don't hear anything.

I'm mesmerized by her. Not just her beauty, but there's something more I can't explain. Something that makes me feel like I've always known her. As if my soul had been looking for hers my entire life.

Our eyes remain locked as we walk past each other, her heading to her father's office and me leaving. Suddenly, she shakes her head and breaks the gaze.

"So I see my father found another daddy for me," she says sardonically.

"Hi, Emilee?" I'm?—"

"Shhh," she says with a perfectly manicured finger in front of her lips. "Sorry to waste your time, old man, but I'm already taken. My dad doesn't get to pick who I'm marrying."

She enters her father's office and pulls the door closed behind her.

In a daze, I somehow make my way back to my car. I'm left speechless, stunned, and in awe of her. I feel like a schoolboy with his first crush, but I know there's something more there. I can feel it. I used to tease my brother when he would say he was looking for his spark. I would tell him that it was foolish, something made up in books. But not only did I finally understand it, I felt it. As I slide into my car, I pull out my cell phone and text Emil.

I'm in. Whatever you want, I'll do it. I want to marry your daughter.