5. Henry
five
Franki shakes her head as she shifts in her chair and looks down at Oliver where he sits near her feet. “I can’t believe how well he’s behaving with you. He doesn’t normally let men get near me.”
I slide my foot slightly closer to Franki under the small room-service table in her hotel room, lean down, and give him a scratch behind his ear. Oliver thumps his tail. “He probably remembers me from when I trained him as a puppy.”
She was in a boarding school surrounded by haters, and I wanted to give her an animal that would double as a guard dog. But, she found Oliver at a shelter and fell in love. I’d been fully prepared to bully or bribe the school administrators to allow Franki to keep him with her. Instead, her mother showed up for her winter break and took her away at the end of it.
I straighten, move my place setting aside, and take a sip of water. Clear my throat. Tap my finger against my water glass. “We’ve known each other a long time.”
She props her elbow on the table and puts her chin in her hand. “We have.”
Franki smiles like she knows all my secrets. Her eyelashes flutter over warm, dark amber eyes, and my heart rate picks up for no reason, whatsoever. I take another sip of water. I can’t think when she’s looking at me like this. “You and I each have something the other needs.”
Her eyebrows lift. “Interesting way to put it.”
“You’ve placed your education on hold for financial reasons. You have nowhere to live, and no job. I can take care of your financial issues, in exchange for . . . a favor.”
Her brows lower slowly, her body shifting with apparent discomfort or embarrassment.
I lift my glasses and rub my eyes. “That’s not what I….Not sexual favors. Unless you wanted….”
She glares, and I snap my mouth shut.
“Allow me to start over. My grandmother is in possession of a company that I would like to acquire. In exchange for the company, she has asked me to find a suitable wife by no later than November 14th.”
“That’s insane.”
“Nonetheless. I want that company, and you want to complete your education. I believe the two of us could come to an amicable agreement mutually beneficial for both parties. I can offer you a home, and, in addition to generous financial compensation, I’m more than happy to pay for you to complete your education.”
Oliver lifts his head to huff at me in annoyance.
At Franki’s silence, I straighten my cuffs, then hold eye contact with her. I’ve been fidgeting like a rank amateur. I know better.
“Let me see if I understand this. You’re asking me to marry you?” Franki’s palms flatten on the table. Her voice is sweet and soft, as always, but she sounds…unimpressed.
“Yes.”
“We haven’t seen each other in five years.”
“Four years, nine months.” And twelve days. “You’re the same person. Time is irrelevant. I know the core of your character; I don’t need to have spoken with you.”
She shakes her head.
“You disagree?”
“You’re not the same person, and neither am I. The last time I spoke with you, you wanted to teach astrophysics, not be some business tycoon. You didn’t want anything to do with your grandfather’s companies.”
“And then I grew up. I have responsibilities. There are things only I can do for this family. They need me.”
“I see.” She looks down at my hand where it rests on the table. Runs her thumb over the silvery scar above my ring finger, then releases me and leans back. “You’d have been a wonderful teacher. You were the only person who could make calculus make sense for me.”
I remember. Hours spent at my parents’ kitchen island while she gamely worked on equations that she claimed were utterly incomprehensible. She never gave up until she understood. Franki is brilliant, intuitive, and far smarter than I am in many respects, including emotional intelligence, but math and science never came easily to her.
“My PhD was an indulgence. My parents didn’t want to burst my bubble. I was never doing anything else with my life than what I’m doing now. Teaching is a goal for someone who believes in humanity. I no longer do.”
At that, my future wife’s brows furrow with obvious sympathy. “That’s sad.”
I don’t need or want anyone’s pity, especially Franki’s. “It’s not sad that I’m realistic about what is worth the investment of my time and effort.”
She makes a “pfft” sound and shakes her head. “Why has your grandmother given you such a short timeline? That’s not long enough for you to meet someone and fall in love.”
“She gave me a year. I was seeking an alternate solution until it became obvious that a wedding was my only option.”
“Then you’ll have to start dating if you need a wife to get your hands on those shares,” she says.
“Absolutely not. Have you tried it? Talking to people you don’t know about things you aren’t interested in but are supposed to pretend you are. I’m not doing that. It’s annoying.”
She taps her fingers on the table. “It isn’t worth the investment of your time and effort.”
I’d grown impatient and abandoned my plan to wait until tomorrow, but jumping to the proposal too soon was clearly a tactical error. I clear my throat and attempt to salvage these negotiations. “A stranger doesn’t meet my requirements for loyalty and permanence. While you don’t know details, you’re already aware that, in addition to my companies, I have other unconventional responsibilities. You’re a minimal security risk since you’ve already proven your loyalty to me.”
I shared things with her in the past that, according to my father, I shouldn’t have. But I’d known, even then, that she’d never betray us.
“How romantic.”
I frown.
She frowns back.
“I’m not talking about romance. I’m discussing marriage.”
“No thank you.”
“You like me,” I say slowly.
Her eye twitches. “Usually.”
“I would provide you with a comfortable life.”
“I’ll make my own comfortable life. It’ll just take me a little longer.”
“You wanted a job. You could consider it employment if you prefer. You can have your own bedroom. You’d essentially be paid to live in my home, wear my ring, and occasionally be available when I need you.”
She covers her eyes with her hand briefly before dropping it and saying, “I’m sure you wouldn’t be deliberately cruel, but you’re asking me to live my life for another person. I already did that with my mother.”
“It’s not living for another person.” I gesture with two hands to make my next point. “It’s you living your life. Me living mine.” I bring my palms together, nearly touching. “Next to each other.”
She shakes her head.
“I like you. I know that I’m not an emotional or romantic man, but I do know how to make money. I can provide things that will make you content.”
“In exchange for me providing a service.”
“Yes.” Spencer would never have found anyone else I deemed acceptable. And when he finally worked his way through my list of acquaintances, he’d have found Franki. I’d have had a legitimate excuse to explain why I’d tracked her down before she was ready to come home.
She’s here now. It didn’t come to that.
Come to think of it.I pull my phone from my pocket and add Franki Lennox to my list of requirements, then put the phone back in my pocket. She is the primary requirement.
“What was that?” she asks.
“Hmm?” I assume an innocent expression.
“You just typed my name on something that looked like a list.”
I recall Gabriel and Dante’s less-than-positive reactions to my criteria. The way they compared my future wife to a golden retriever. This list is going to get me in trouble. I can feel it all the way down to the soles of my shoes. And yet, I can’t bring myself to lie to her. “I created a list of requirements for my future wife. You meet every criteria. Additionally, I like you, I trust you, and I could sleep with you.”
I can’t imagine any woman I’d permit to be near me when I was vulnerable like that. Except for her.
I’ve never seen Franki’s face go hard before this moment. I’ve fucked up these negotiations. Took a wrong turn.
Dammit, I should have stayed focused on what was in it for her.That was a rookie error. My only excuse is that I’m clearly coming down with something. My heart is racing and sweat prickles under my arms.
Franki’s reactions aren’t what I thought they’d be. There are years of her life I only know about peripherally. She’s not the same girl, after all, who stood on the library balcony with stars in her eyes and told me someday she’d be back. She’d said, “You could wait for me.”
I rub my aching sternum. The reports on her indicated she hasn’t had a single boyfriend. I thought when she responded to me so enthusiastically downstairs and told me she was back to stay . . . she’d come back for me.
My family reminds me often that I have an over-developed ego. Clearly, that was the case here, but I’m not ready to let this go. “You should know I’d have no expectation of sex unless it was something you were interested in pursuing.”
I can only interpret the look on her face as “You have to be joking.”
A strange burn lodges in my throat, so I reach for my water glass. Ice clinks as I sip and give her time to formulate her response.
Finished with her meal, Franki lifts Oliver onto her lap. As she rubs his back, he cuddles into her, resting his chin on her shoulder like a baby. His tail goes thwack, thwack, thwack against the edge of the white tablecloth.
“Thank you for a lovely dinner and your proposal. I’m afraid, unfortunately, that I have to decline,” she says gently.
“What would it take for you to say you will marry me?”
Though her voice is soft, I detect some underlying emotion that I don’t recognize. “I’m not interested in a business arrangement or being the person you chose because I was the easiest option.”
She scratches Oliver behind his ears. “I’ve never been anyone’s priority in my life. That’s fine, but I won’t sign up for a marriage custom-designed to remind me of that fact. It’s better to be alone.”
Marriage will demand a great deal more of my time than I initially planned for. Surprisingly, the thought doesn’t irritate me at all. I’ll strike doesn’t require attention from the list. Later. When I’m not here for her to see it. “I can add you to my itinerary and make you one of my priorities. It’s a fair compromise. I have certain responsibilities that will always come first, but I’m willing to make reasonable adjustments. You’re my first choice of a wife. Does it follow that I value you less simply because you’re also the most convenient option?”
“Here’s a hint: the next woman you ask this question to, leave off the ‘convenient option.’ It makes me want to stab you with a fork,” she says, gentle exasperation in her tone.
Since she has, in no way, moved toward her cutlery, it’s clear her threat is an empty one. I lean back in my chair. “You need romance and emotional investment.”
“To accept a marriage proposal? Yes, I do. From both parties,” she says, voice sweet, but firm.
Tapping my finger on the table, I look away from her and around the hotel room as I formulate my thoughts and consider my next steps. By all common sense and reason, I should cross her name off the list and look for someone else, but the thought of walking away from her creates a sensation I can only describe as claustrophobia rising in my chest. Franki is the only person I find remotely suitable for the position. She will be my wife. If she needs a romantic relationship, then I have to learn how to give her that.
I rise. “I understand.”
Franki joins me.
Methodically, I unroll and button my cuffs. Then I walk across the room and reach for my tuxedo jacket where I’d draped it over the end of her bed. Shrugging it on, I turn back to her. “I’ll be visiting my sister tomorrow. I’ll give you a ride back to the house. There’s no need to take two vehicles or inconvenience one of my parents’ drivers.”
“Oh. I wouldn’t want to inconvenience your parents. I can take a taxi.” Her lips press together, and she looks away in clear distress.
I attempt reassurance. “It’s no problem at all for me to do it. I’m already heading in that direction. We may as well carpool. I’ll pick you up at nine sharp. I also have an employment opportunity to discuss with you on the drive if you’re interested. Specifically, I’m in need of a translator. It’s a full-time, salaried position with benefits. Your hours would be flexible. There may be some travel involved.” I’m literally making this up as I go, but if I have to buy a company in Germany or France to give Franki a job and keep her close to me, then that’s what I’ll do.
Her dark eyes flare with a glint of excitement and maybe a hint of distrust. “Really?”
“Yes. Nice little coincidence there for both of us. Serendipitous, I think you’d call it.” I don’t like how financially vulnerable she seems to be at the moment. I would never coerce her or manipulate her, but someone could. She’d refuse a handout or offer of financial assistance. A job, on the other hand, will go a long way to shoring up her resources. She’s always been a great student. No doubt she’ll be just as dedicated in a professional capacity.
“It would make me breathe a little easier, I’ll admit. I was concerned about losing my health insurance,” she says.
What the fuck have her parents been doing that she doesn’t have health insurance? I’ve never liked Guinevere Jones or Jonny Lennox, but for two overtly wealthy people to refuse to help their own child with her education or healthcare is despicable. Particularly when that daughter has multiple serious health issues. My last report on her was three weeks ago, so whatever happened with Franki and her parents is recent.
With Oliver close at her heels, Franki walks to the heavy, black-painted hotel door, and I follow, accepting her cue for what it is: a request for me to leave.
I don’t want to cross that threshold, but strategy is everything. Ignoring the suspicious glint in Oliver’s doggy eyes, I bend close to press my lips to her cheek. Smooth warmth. The faintest sweet scent. I have the strange desire to nuzzle against her and breathe her in. To simply live in this moment for the rest of my life. When she doesn’t pull away, I linger, absorbing her closeness.
This is an echo, or maybe a mirror, of that last night before she left.
“Will you come back?”
“Yes. I promise. This is just while I finish school.” Franki looks down at her new puppy where he gnaws noisily on a stuffed toy. She takes a deep breath before looking into my eyes and stretching up to kiss my mouth.
I turn my head to give her my cheek. She stays, pressing against my skin for a long moment, as I stand with my hands raised in surrender so I don’t touch her. After long, too- tempting moments with her sweet lips pressed to my skin, I step back.
“I can’t, Franki.” It’s not appropriate. She’s eighteen to my twenty-two, but hasn’t graduated from high school, yet.
“You could wait for me.”
I’ll wait for eternity. “I’m not going anywhere. I’ll be right here.”
Now, I’m the one with my lips on her, and I wait for her to step away. She’s twenty-three now. Older than I was that night. Eighteen-year-old Franki would have jumped at my proposal and accepted anything I gave her. It was part of why it would have been so wrong. This Franki wants to stab me with a fork for my audacity.
She wraps her arms around me beneath my jacket and leans into me. I reach my own around her, tugging her close, my right hand splayed flat against the silky warmth of her lower back. I slide the fingertips of my left hand up, then down, over the exposed skin at the nape of her neck, and her flesh erupts with goose bumps. The sheer intimacy of it has me forgetting to breathe.
I refuse to be the one to pull away this time. Instead, I move my lips up to speak against her temple. “I missed you, Franki.”
“I miss you too,” she whispers. “Miss you,” not “missed.” The difference feels significant.
She backs away, and the loss of her arms around me leaves me cold and hollow once more.
She smiles, but her eyebrows are furrowed in a way that indicates sadness. “Still friends?”
“Of course.” Determination made of pure steel settles inside me. I have time to fix this and secure my wife before Grandmother’s ultimatum comes to fruition. “Until tomorrow, Franki.”