Chapter Two

Chapter Two

Later that day, I parked in the lot outside my apartment building and switched off the engine. It wasn’t a very well-lit parking area, so I was glad that dusk hadn’t yet completely fallen. There were many times I’d needed to stay late at the office to help Dane with one thing or another, so I often didn’t make it home until it was super dark.

Slipping out of my car, I locked it with the remote fob and then dug the can of pepper spray out of my bag. It was only a short walk to my building, but a girl could never be too careful.

Crossing the crack-ridden pavement, I glanced around. There was no one hovering about. All I could hear were my heels clacking on the ground and the sounds of street traffic.

Reaching the footpath that led to the main entrance, I neatly sidestepped the cans, wrappers, and crinkled flyers that littered the ground near the overflowing trash can.

I could afford to live in a nicer neighborhood, I just preferred being near my family. Especially my father, Simon.

Inside the building, I took the elevator up to my floor and headed into my apartment. There, I tossed my coat on the back of the armchair and slipped off my shoes. After changing into my sweats, I shuffled into the kitchen and sighed at the sound of raised voices coming from next door. The walls of my apartment were annoyingly thin, so it was unfortunate that I had neighbors who screamed at each other loud enough to wake the dead.

They were actually super nice people. Ashley was a hoot and had become a close friend. Her boyfriend, Tucker, was one big teddy bear who was impossible to dislike. But when they argued, they argued. Ashley would always storm out, and she’d always come knocking on my door to complain about whatever he’d done.

At least the argument hadn’t started until after I’d finished my bath. I’d needed the quiet time to wind down and relax before dinner.

Too tired to cook, I dug a microwavable mac and cheese meal out of the freezer. It might not be terribly healthy, but the meal would suit me just fine.

As I closed the freezer door, I almost knocked down one of the drawings I’d attached to it with magnets. I gently skimmed my fingers over the sheet of paper. There were five stick figures beneath which Freddie had written the names Maggie, Simon, Freddie, Vienna, and Deacon in his childish scrawl. The first four figures stood together, but the fifth stood alone—Deacon always did.

My heart squeezed. I wished I could do more to help them, particularly Simon, but I didn’t have that power. And I damn well hated that.

Once my meal was ready, I sat at my small dining table and dug into my mac and cheese. My neighbors, sadly, continued to row. And said row got louder and louder.

I closed my eyes, wishing for silence, knowing from experience that it could always be worse. This area of Redwater City, Florida might not be glamorous, but it was nicer than most. My building was secure and stable. Although my apartment was small and cramped, it was clean and well-maintained … unlike the one I’d lived in as a child.

I could still remember the smells of stale air, spoiled food, cigarette smoke, and body odor that greeted me each morning. I could remember the taste of rusty water. Could remember how hot it would get when the air conditioning failed to switch on. Could remember the dirty dishware in the sink, the piles of unwashed laundry, and the rats … God, the rats.

More, I could remember the burn of a palm slapping my face so hard it felt like my eye exploded. I could remember hands shoving me hard, feet kicking my legs or ribs, and fingertips digging into my jaw as my mother screamed in my face. It would have been a relief that she left if my entire world hadn’t then imploded. But I was grateful that I’d been fostered by Melinda and Wyatt—who’d always supported my contact with my father—even if my early years with them hadn’t been smooth sailing.

A door banged shut as the arguing cut off abruptly. Moments later, knuckles rapped hard on my front door. I pushed out of my chair, left the tiny kitchen, and crossed the equally small living area. I opened the front door, and Ashley marched inside.

“That man thinks he can lie to me and get away with it,” fumed Ashley, a flush staining her dark skin. “Nu-uh. Not as long as I’ve got a hole in my ass.”

My mouth twitching, I followed her into the kitchen. She looked about to make herself some coffee, but then she spotted the mac and cheese. “Smells good.” She sat at the table. “You done with this?” she asked, helping herself to the food.

I smiled. “I am now.” Taking the chair opposite her, I tilted my head. “So, what happened?”

Ashley shoved a forkful of food into her mouth. “I dreamed he cheated on me.”

I waited for her to expand. She didn’t. “Okay.”

“I told him about it. He said he’d never do that. But he blinked when he said it.”

I would have chuckled if she didn’t look so serious. “I don’t think he’d ever cheat on you. He loves you.” The guy worshipped her, and Ashley absolutely adored him in return. She might have a harder shell than he did, but she was a softie on the inside.

Ashley sniffed. “Hmm. He liked some bitch’s photo on social media. When I confronted him, he accused me of cyberstalking him. Like I even have time to monitor his lying ass. He shouldn’t have a problem with me logging into his account from time to time either. How is that a problem?”

“He’s probably just hurt that you don’t trust him.”

“I trust him with my life. I just don’t trust that he’s not doing stupid shit online. Heaven knows he does it at home. He keeps denying that he turned the thermostat up. Like I can’t see he did it.”

Another knock came at the front door—this one gentler. “That’s probably him,” I said, pushing to my feet.

Ashley straightened in her seat and pasted an aloof look on her face. “Probably.” But she didn’t rise from the table.

I left the kitchen and made my way to the door. Opening it wide, I smiled at Tucker. The guy was at least six foot seven and built like a linebacker, but he was a gentle giant.

“Hi, Vienna,” he greeted, polite as ever.

“Hey, Tucker.”

“Is Ashley here?”

“She is. Come in.” I closed the door once he’d stepped inside. “She’s in the kitchen.”

He thanked me and then headed to the kitchen, closing the door behind him. I sat on the sofa in the living room to give them some privacy. I could hear their muffled voices talking curtly, but then those voices softened. I had to smile. They reminded me a little of Melinda and Wyatt. My foster parents argued over the weirdest stuff sometimes, but they were a tight and happy couple.

My intercom buzzed. I frowned. Apparently, I was a popular girl today.

I headed to the wall-mounted control panel and jabbed the intercom button. “Hello?” I said into the microphone.

“It’s me,” rumbled a deep, distinctive voice that seemed to vibrate with testosterone.

I almost jerked back in surprise. Not once in the four years I’d worked for Dane had he ever come to my home. Ever. So, yeah, this was new.

“We need to talk,” he quickly added.

Yeah, he’d informed me of that earlier, but I hadn’t realized he’d meant we’d do it here. He’d left o-Verve at 4 p.m. and still hadn’t returned by 6 p.m. Figuring that we could postpone the discussion until tomorrow, I hadn’t lingered at the office.

Curious about what was so important that it couldn’t wait, I pressed the button that would unlock the main door to the complex. It wasn’t long before he arrived at my apartment. Spying him through the peephole, I opened the door.

“Dane,” I greeted simply, ignoring how my feminine parts woke right up and did a cheer. It wasn’t fair that this attraction I felt toward him was so damn unrelenting. I was too susceptible to him. Too helpless against the one-way chemistry that wouldn’t back the hell down.

I’d read once that chemistry couldn’t possibly be one-sided, but my situation was evidence that theory was complete bullshit. The undeniable, inexplicable force always pulsed in the air around me whenever I was near him; always made my nerve-endings tingle and my body feel so very aware. But it was abundantly clear that my boss was totally unaffected.

His eyes drifted over me, and I was suddenly unbearably conscious that I was dressed in my sweats with my hair tied up in an unruly knot. He’d never seen me in anything other than business attire, and I always styled my hair into a sleek, professional bun for work.

I stepped aside, allowing him to enter. His all-knowing eyes swept over our surroundings, and I fought a blush. At work, I was hyper-organized. At home? Not so much. Probably because I needed a little break from being hyper-organized throughout the majority of the day. I kept my home super clean, but no matter how many times I decluttered, I never managed to keep everything in their designated places.

Piles of unopened mail, books, and papers were untidily stacked on the coffee table. Change, receipts, and stray cosmetic items littered the fireplace mantel. Jackets had been tossed over the back of the armchair. My e-reader, blanket, and a half-eaten box of chocolates had been slung on one side of the sofa.

Dane took it all in and then lifted a brow at me.

I shrugged. “I was playing a game of Jumanji—it tends to get messy. So, why are you here? Is something wrong?”

Just then, my neighbors came strolling out of the kitchen hand in hand. They both halted at the sight of Dane. Tucker seemed to stand a little taller—he often did when men sniffed around me, like the protective big brother I’d never wanted.

“Dane, these are my friends and neighbors, Ashley and Tucker. Guys, this is my boss, Dane Davenport.”

Tucker inclined his head, even as he narrowed his eyes. “Good to meet you.”

Ashley fanned her face. “Vienna didn’t tell me you were hot.”

Tucker glared at his girlfriend. “I’m right here.”

“It was just an observation.” Ashley smiled at me and wagged her fingers. “See you tomorrow, Vienna. Bye now, Dane.”

He didn’t respond, but I said my goodbyes and then locked the door shut behind them.

“You have coffee?” Dane asked when I turned to face him.

“Sure.” I padded into the kitchen, conscious that he was close behind me. He settled at the table while I cleared its surface and then prepared our drinks. Once I’d set our coffees down, I took the chair opposite him. He was looking at the drawings on my fridge.

Before he could ask about them, I prompted, “So, you came here because …?”

He slid his mug closer to him. “I have news.”

“News?”

“I’m getting married.”

My stomach plummeted and twisted painfully. A horrible pressure began to build in my chest, and I swallowed hard. “Really? Well, congrats.” God, that couldn’t have sounded faker. “I didn’t realize you were seeing anyone.”

“I’m not.”

I felt my eyebrows squish together. “I don’t understand.”

“My paternal uncle was a very rich man who’d made a wide range of very lucrative investments. Hugh set up trust funds for me and my two brothers. He left each of us stocks, shares, money, properties, and even art. But there’s a clause. Like my brothers, I can’t access the trust fund … until I’m married.”

“But, why?”

Dane sipped his coffee. “Hugh never married. He was all about work. And it wasn’t until later in life that he regretted it. He used to ask me what the point was in him having such a massive home when there was only him to live in it. The closest thing he had to children of his own was my brothers and me. He encouraged us to work hard and be successful but to not neglect our personal lives. He didn’t want us to make the same mistakes that he did.”

“Hence the clause.”

“Yes. There’s also another snag. If by the time I reach the age of thirty-eight I’m not married, the assets in my trust fund will be divided between my brothers.”

Which, essentially, pressured him to do as his uncle wished. “Wow. He really wanted you guys to get married.”

“More, he wanted to ensure that we didn’t wait until late in our lives before we found someone to share that life with. It worked with Travis and Kent. They both married young.”

“Is it normal for people to attach conditions to trust funds?”

“It’s not uncommon. I know someone who couldn’t access theirs unless they married someone of a certain religion. Hugh wasn’t so much fussed about who we married as he was about when we married.”

“You’re thirty-seven now,” I recalled.

“Yes. And I’m no more interested in marriage now than I ever have been. I don’t even have any interest in a relationship.”

“So you’re getting married purely to gain access to your trust fund?”

Dane shrugged. “There are more fickle reasons to get married. It’s not about the money, Vienna. Hugh left me things that have sentimental value to me. They’re mine. And I don’t like the idea of any of the assets ending up in Travis’s hands. He’d gamble most of them away, and his wife, Hope, would squander the rest. Kent said he’d hand me his share since it’s rightfully mine, but I can’t be sure he truly would.”

I nodded. “Okay. I get it.” And it wasn’t my stuff, so I wasn’t in a position to say what the best way would be to deal with the situation, was I?

Watching me closely, Dane lifted his mug and took another sip of his coffee. “I want you to do something for me.”

If he asked me to pick out wedding invitations or something, I so wouldn’t be pleased. I could support him getting married, but I still didn’t like the idea of him shacked up with someone else. Apparently, my measly crush hadn’t been so measly after all. “What?”

“Marry me.”

My lips parted, and I stared at him. “You’re not joking, are you?” It wasn’t a question; it was a shocked whisper. Dane did not joke.

“It’ll only be for show. We won’t need to stay married very long.” He lifted his brow. “I warned you I’d one day call in my favor.”

Yes, he had. But I hadn’t ever imagined he’d ask this of me. My heart started to beat faster, and my ribs suddenly felt too tight. “Dane …”

“You said you’d return the favor when the time came.”

I had, because I’d been so damn grateful to him. My asshole-ex, bitter after our separation, had secretly filmed us having sex, and he’d threatened to post the video online if I didn’t do as he dictated. And what had he wanted? For me to either pay him a substantial sum of money I didn’t have or to sexually perform in front of a videocam for him.

I’d heard that sextortion went on, but I hadn’t believed I’d ever be a victim of it. I’d known that if the secret video he’d taken of us ever went live on the internet, I’d lose everything. I’d literally felt my world coming apart around me.

Dane had overheard me arguing with my ex-boyfriend on the phone. He’d demanded the details and promised me he’d “take care of it.” A day later, he’d announced that the video no longer existed and that my ex would never bother me again. I’d asked Dane what exactly he’d done to fix the matter, but he’d been very vague. We hadn’t spoken of it since.

“Are you going to go back on your word?” he asked.

I licked my lips. “Dane, you’re a highly sought-after guy. You don’t need to call in a favor to get a woman to marry you.”

“I don’t want the emotional complications of a real marriage. I like being alone. I want someone who’ll play the part of my wife and then sign the divorce papers quietly when it’s over. That’s all. But it needs to look real, because Travis and Hope are salivating after my trust fund—they figure it’s a done deal that they’ll get his share of it. If they can prove the marriage is fake, they will.”

“Has it occurred to you that I could be dating someone?”

“No, because you don’t complain when I call you on weekends, no matter the hour. You don’t tell me you have plans when I ask you to stay late or spring a late meeting or last-minute business event on you.”

“Yeah, well, being your PA kind of eats up my time,” I said, feeling a little defensive. “Why ask me to play the part of your wife?”

“I’ve never made any secret of my aversion to relationships. I rarely date the same woman twice, and I don’t take the time to get to know them. People would never buy that I’m suddenly head over damn heels for a relative stranger. It would look especially suspicious to anyone who’s aware of the strings that are attached to my trust fund, yes?”

I nodded. “Yes.”

“You’ve been my PA for four years now. We see each other pretty much every day. It wouldn’t be hard to sell a story that we grew close, fought our feelings for a while, finally acted on them, but kept it secret. It’s not like it’s something that hasn’t happened to other couples.”

Well that was true enough.

“You’d have been my first choice in any case, because I know I can trust you. Several of my business competitors have tried hiring you as a spy or luring you away from my company, but you remained loyal to me and to o-Verve. Plus, you have one of the best poker-faces I’ve ever seen, which we’ll need if we’re going to fool people.”

I slumped in my seat. “This was so not how I expected my evening to go.” I’d earlier decided that I needed to shake things up a bit, but this was not what I’d had in mind.

I took a sip of my coffee, but I barely tasted it. “You have a whole year before you need to be married. You could meet someone within that timeframe who makes you reconsider your views on marriage.”

“I won’t, nor would I want to.” He leaned forward, resting his forearms on the table. “This isn’t a spur of the moment thing, Vienna. I’ve thought it through. All the way through. You and I could pull this off.”

I poked my tongue into the inside of my cheek. “If we did go through with it, how long would we need to stay married?”

“Twelve months, at the very least. Purely because I have to be married for an entire year before I’m allowed to touch my trust fund.”

I felt my eyes widen. “Jesus, your uncle really covered his bases.”

“He did,” Dane agreed, a muscle in his cheek flexing. “I suppose he knew he couldn’t be sure that neither me nor my brothers would marry solely to access our trust funds; he probably thought that if he could force us to stay married for a year, we might find some joy in the marriage and decide to make it real.”

“I can see it pisses you off that he did this, but he meant it as a gift, Dane. He didn’t want you to be alone.”

“Yes, but he didn’t consider that not everyone is the same as him. If I do, by some miracle, later in life decide I want to marry for real, I’ll try it. But I don’t foresee that happening. For now, it’s definitely not what I want.”

I inwardly sighed. I wanted to help him. I did. I also wanted to return the favor I owed him, just as I’d promised. But marry him? That wouldn’t be a small thing.

Then again, taking care of the whole sextortion situation hadn’t been a small thing either, had it?

I scratched at my head. “You said the marriage would be for show. So … no emotions, no expectations, no sex, no being anything other than a fake couple?”

He nodded. “Exactly.”

“Honestly, I don’t see how it would work. You’re a highly sexual person, Dane. There’s no way you’d stay celibate for the duration of a fake marriage—and trust me, you’d be expected to be celibate if I was playing wifey, because I won’t be known as the poor woman being cheated on left, right, and center by a husband she ‘loves.’”

His brows snapped together. “I’m not a slave to my impulses, Vienna. I can go without sex if need be. And I would need to go without it, because Travis will have me watched. You’ll need to take a temporary vow of celibacy just the same.”

Oh, wonderful. Not that I had a sex life. Unless the nights I spent with my vibrator counted. “I’m not sure if people will buy that we’re a couple.”

“Countless people already think we’re sleeping together.”

“They do? Why?”

“Because you’ve stuck around this long, and because I’ve never threatened to fire you.” His eyes bore into mine, burning with intensity. “Say yes, Vienna.”

I groaned. “I’d be walking around with a divorce under my belt at twenty-five. Well, I’d be twenty-six at the time we separated, wouldn’t I?” More, if I ever remarried, I’d be unable to explain to my husband—a man I truly would love and adore—that my previous marriage had been fake. I’d never be able to tell my family the truth either.

Would I be able to fool them into believing I loved Dane? Probably. As he’d said, I had a good poker face. Even Wyatt struggled to sense when I was lying, and he had a tip-top bullshit meter. But … “I hate the thought of lying to the people I care for.”

“So you told them about the sex video?”

Well, no.

“You keep absolutely no secrets from them? You believe they tell you everything? That they’ve never lied to you for one reason or another?”

I sighed. “I get your point—everyone lies sometimes, everyone has their secrets.”

“I never told a soul about that sex video; I kept your secret for you. Would you really balk at keeping one for me? It’s not like I’m asking you to do anything that you’d need to be ashamed of. If your family could be told the truth, they wouldn’t vilify you for keeping your word and repaying a favor—especially if they knew the ins and outs of what happened with your ex. But no one besides you and me can know the marriage is fake, Vienna.”

“My family wouldn’t tell.”

“Maybe not, but you’d have to ask them to lie for you to others—including people they may care for. You’d have to ask them to put on an act for you when they’re around everyone else. Would you feel comfortable asking that of them?”

I exhaled heavily. “No. No, I wouldn’t.” It would be more unfair to ask them to play a part in the deception than it would be for me to lie to them.

“You needed my help two years ago, and I gave it to you.”

“If you think back, I didn’t actually ask for your help.” It was a weak argument, yes, but it was all I had.

“No, but you were happy to let me take care of the problem for you. And I did. Thoroughly. Now I need something from you.”

“Look, I want to help you—”

“This is the only way you can.”

I closed my eyes. Fuck. It didn’t seem wise to fake-marry a guy you had a crush on. Like at all. But whether I liked it or not, I did owe Dane. I never would have agreed to my ex’s demands, which meant the sex video would have been plastered on the internet. Once something was on there, you could never get it off. Anyone could have seen it.

My family definitely would have seen it, because my ex had made it clear that he’d send it to each of my loved ones. He’d also promised to email it to my boss and other coworkers—it would have been easy enough for him to get their email addresses from o-Verve’s website.

Even if Dane had been prepared to dismiss the matter, he couldn’t have kept me as his PA—I’d have lost the respect of everyone at the company. I wouldn’t have wanted to stay anyway for the simple reason that I couldn’t have looked any of my coworkers in the eye.

Wherever I went, I’d have been paranoid that someone had seen the video and recognized me from it. And if they had, I’d have had to deal with people laughing, sneering, and maybe even coming onto me, demanding an “encore.”

I wouldn’t have been the only one affected. My father and foster parents would have stood by me, but they’d have suffered embarrassment from it, too. People might have made cruel or snarky comments to them—maybe even at their place of work, which would have led to them defending me and possibly losing their jobs.

Since I would definitely have lost my own job, I’d have had to find another. Dane might have allowed me to conceal from future potential employers why I’d lost the job. But, knowing my ex, he’d have been spiteful enough to send my new employer a damn copy. After all, he’d warned me that he’d send one to my landlord, neighbors, and any future boyfriends.

In short, the sex video had had the potential to not only wreck my life, but to fuck with the lives of the people I cared for. Dane, though, had stopped that from happening, and he’d done it without complaint. So, yes, I owed him.

I opened my eyes. “What if someone discovers that the marriage is fake?”

“They won’t. Even if they did, you wouldn’t face any repercussions. The only person who stands to lose anything here is me, and I’d lose a lot. But if I don’t take this chance, I’ll lose it all anyway.”

“There’s really no other way you can access the trust fund?”

“If there was, I wouldn’t be here now.” He paused. “I’m not asking you to make a lifelong commitment to me. The marriage won’t be real. On paper, you’ll be my wife for a year—that’s it. Just say yes, Vienna. Help me like I helped you.”

I groaned, knowing I had only myself to blame for this. I’d essentially made a deal with the devil. That kind of thing tended to come back and bite you on the ass. Hard. “Okay. I’ll do it.”

There was a glitter of satisfaction in his eyes. “Good.” He took another sip of his coffee, casual as you please. Like we weren’t discussing getting fucking married.

“So, what now? Do we elope?”

“Not out of the blue. That would scream ‘fake.’ We need to lay the groundwork first.”

“Groundwork?”

“Yes.” He sank back into his chair. “I didn’t take a plus-one to any of the corporate events I attended in the last two months. It wasn’t unnoticed. People asked if I was dating someone. I said no. But many of them are so sure I’m hiding something that you and I won’t need to look cozy when we go on any dates; they’ll read all sorts into what they see.”

“So you’d already put your plan into motion before approaching me with your proposal. Why did you wait two months to ask me?” He hadn’t originally asked someone else, had he? Had I been second choice? And what did it even matter?

“I needed to tend to some things first and ensure all my ducks were in a row,” he replied. “If you have plans for Saturday evening, cancel them. That will be our first date.”

My stomach flipped. “Will there need to be a lot of PDA? Public displays of affection?”

“I know what PDA stands for. And no, there won’t need to be much of it. I don’t want to shove our apparent relationship in people’s faces—it wouldn’t look realistic. I’m a private man. I want it to look as though we’re trying to keep the relationship low-key for now.”

Clever. “I take it that means we’ll continue as we are at work.”

“Yes. Don’t mention our ‘relationship’ to anyone. Word will eventually get around o-Verve that we seem to be dating. People will ask you questions. Be vague and evasive.”

“Don’t confirm it but don’t deny it?”

“Exactly.”

“What about the, um, engagement? When will that become official?”

“July, while we’re on a business trip in Vegas. We’ll also marry while there, as if we saw no reason to wait. It’ll be fast, yes, but I’m known for moving fast when going after what I want.”

Six weeks. I had six weeks until I’d be walking down the aisle. My belly did a slow roll. There was an audible click when I swallowed. “Okay.”

“And you’ll need to move in with me once we’re married.”

“What about my apartment? I know it’s nothing special, but it’s mine.”

“It would look odd if we didn’t live together, Vienna. I’ll buy you another apartment after this is over. No, don’t argue, I won’t see you homeless. Especially when you’ll be giving me a year of your life. It’s only fair that I ensure you have a home to go to when you leave mine. Think of it as the divorce settlement or compensation for losses incurred, whatever. We’ll talk about it more when the time for the divorce approaches. For now, we’ll concentrate on the upcoming dates and engagement.”

I frowned as a thought crossed my mind. “You’re not going to propose in public, are you?”

A smile briefly lit his eyes. “We’ll see.”