Chapter 15

Fifteen

SCOTTIE

Marriage of Convenience Contract Agreement between two parties for all intents and purposes of a legally binding marriage.

This agreement made on the 14th day of October in the year 2024 to end in exactly one year from the signature date. Between ________ hereafter called the "Groom" and ________ hereafter called the "Bride."

The Groom and Bride enter into this agreement to provide for circumstances relating to their marriage; and both have read and agreed to the following conditions by way of initialing each item or part.

1. Bride agrees to no longer be employed at the establishment titled Cat House .

2. Bride agrees to move into Groom's house residingat 76 Hart St. Chicago, IL until the end of contract date.

3. Bride and Groom both agree to engage in physical touch and act with affection when in public.

4. Bride and Groom both agree not to engage in physical touch with anyone other than each other, so long as it is not in a sexual manner.

5. Bride agrees to take over the Groom's social media accounts and post appropriate content weekly regarding their relationship so long as it is in a positive manner.

6. Bride is able to have free rein in the home and do as she wishes unless an outing is required and/or a game, so long as it does not violate clause #4.

7. Groom agrees to pay Bride $2,500 on the first of every month for personal use.

8. Groom agrees to cover the cost of living for both parties including but not limited to mortgage, water, electricity, groceries, and any other household bills.

9. Groom agrees to pay Bride $100,000 at the end of contract in addition to the monthly stipend amount.

____________ ___________

Scottie Monroe Emory Olson

I reread the contract several times and try to ignore the constant shifting from my future husband sitting beside me.

Emory leans over his center console and points to number one. "That also applies to any other strip club. I figured it was implied, but…" He shrugs. "I can have the lawyer add it in there if you wish."

I turn and glare. "That won't be necessary."

The contract crinkles in my hand as I take in the rest of the stipulations of our marriage. I tossed and turned all night long, dodging the little water droplets that kept dripping on my forehead from the leak in my ceiling. I realize that I'm crazy. I'm practically marrying a stranger for money, and that feels awfully close to prostitution.

Yet, here I am, in his car, with a pen in my shaking hand.

I point to number three. My heart beats wildly, and I completely ignore the little voice in the back of my head that wants me to believe I'm excited over the thought of him touching me. That surely cannot be the reason I'm feeling jittery all of a sudden.

"And when we're not in public?" I ask.

His eyebrows draw together. "Are you asking me if I expect you to put out for me when we're behind closed doors?"

My lips part, and nothing comes out of my mouth.

He smooths his forehead and shows me that cocky grin of his. "Or are you asking me to touch you behind closed doors?"

"What?" I exclaim. "N–no." I stumble over my words, and the pen slips out of my sweaty fingers. I should take it as a sign and climb out of his car, refusing to sign the contract, but when I make a decision, I stick with it. My dad always taught me to make a choice and commit to it. I never go back on my word. Ever.

Emory chuckles, and it instantly annoys me. He stretches his muscular legs again and stares out the windshield. I peek at the scruff along his jawline before he turns and our gazes crash. "I won't be touching you unless you ask me to. The rumors you hear aren't true. That's the entire reason I need a wife and for the media to believe that I'm in a committed relationship."

I relax a second later and exhale. Emory squints, and I can tell he's trying to figure me out.

Good luck, though. I can't even figure myself out.

"Everything looks fine," I finally say.

Emory nods curtly and leans over the console into my space. I drop my attention to his mouth and freeze. Is he going to kiss me?!

At the last second, he reaches down and scoops up the pen that's by my feet. I clench my thighs together and pray he doesn't touch me, because I'm clearly out of sorts. I quickly snatch the pen out of his hand, scribble my initials at each indicated spot before sloppily signing the bottom, and thrust the paper back into his lap.

He hands me two more pieces of paper: an NDA and a prenup.

I sign them both willingly because not only am I embarrassed that I'm marrying a man for money, but I don't want a single thing from him after it's all said and done.

I'm a simple girl.

All I want is for my brother to be taken care of and to be comfortable enough in my finances that I can finally work on building a photography portfolio instead of constantly trying to make ends meet.

I'm just so fucking tired.

"Well, that should do it," Emory announces, gathering the papers and tucking them away.

I nod and put my hand on the door to escape. "When do I move in?"

"Now. We have an appointment at City Hall in a few hours."

I pause with one foot on the pavement.

"I'll follow you to your place and help you gather your things."

Panic sets in. "Um, no. I can handle it."

Emory looks from me and then to my car and then back to me. "Do you live in a cardboard box? Because that's all that's going to fit in that tiny rust bucket."

My cheeks flame. "I can handle my belongings. Just give me the address to your house."

Emory holds out his hand. "Unlock your phone and give it to me."

God, he's bossy.

I place my phone in his hand and watch his face flood with confusion. "How the hell do you even see anything on this screen?"

"It's just a few cracks."

Emory shows me my phone, as if he's emphasizing how insane I am. "Just a few cracks?" He doesn't wait for me to answer. Instead, he shakes his head in disbelief and, I assume, types his number into my contacts before handing it back over.

"There. Now you have my number and address."

As soon as I reach for the phone, Emory's fingers close on mine and trap them. I jerk my gaze to his.

"That's privileged information. Don't share it with anyone."

I can't help the laugh that rushes from my mouth. His fingers tighten, and sparks crawl up my arm. "You're not the pope, Olson."

His eyebrow crooks with a challenge. "Well, I wouldn't want my information falling into the wrong hands and have another stripper show up out of nowhere, exploiting me for money again."

Ugh. I snatch my phone from his tight grip, and he drops his hand into his lap. His smirk drives me absolutely crazy, to the point that I practically dive out of his car. Before I escape, he leans over and peers up at me with a cheeky grin and teasing ocean-blue eyes. "See you at home, wifey."

I catch a quick glimpse of his hot wink before slamming the door, and it's the only thing I think of the entire drive to my apartment.