Terms + Conditions (Strangers #3)

Chapter One

CHAPTER ONE

THEN

November 2015

“WHAT ARE WE DOING here?” I ask as we pull up to the massive wooden gate.

Behind those doors lies the lakefront estate of none other than the Villa family—the richest family this side of Appalachia. Correction: they’re one of the wealthiest families in the world—think Walton and Rockefeller—and somehow, they decided to make the small town of Winchester, South Carolina, their home.

Before Mom can ring the call button, the doors swing open to reveal a winding red-brick driveway that veers to the right and disappears up a slope. As we drive through the gates, it feels like we’ve stepped into what I think the Tuscan countryside must feel like. Driving through an archway, we’re greeted by the expansive estate. The house’s exterior is made from the kind of stone you see on Tuscan villas in the movies. I wouldn’t be surprised if they airlifted the thing all the way from Italy.

Kidding…kind of.

“You forgot to mention the part where the Villas were involved.”

“Just hold your horses, Josh,” Mom says, driving around the circle and pulling into a small parking area off to the side. “Mrs. Villa has been gracious enough to invite us over to discuss a possible solution for your little problem, and you’re not going to be rude.”

Mrs. Villa —as in Brina Villa? My mother said we would find a solution to my problem, but she didn’t say we were making a deal with the Devil. Brina is known for being a nightmare, especially when it comes to her daughter.

My sister, Michaela, introduced me to the daughter of the Villa family last year after they met at Rosecliffe University, and Nina shattered any preconceived notion I had about her. I got the sense there was more to her story than met the eye—and Brina Villa had a lot to do with it. Nina doesn’t talk about it much, but that doesn’t stop the rest of Winchester from sharing their opinions.

A grand, white-stone staircase leads up to a large, arched wooden door similar to those at the front gate. The door swings open before we even make it up the stairs. Brina stands there with a Cheshire smile. She’s dressed in a hot pink suit with a black undershirt and black strappy heels—a bit overdressed for a day at home, if you ask me, but sure.

“Jen,” Brina exclaims. “So glad you could make it!” She plants a kiss on each of my mother’s cheeks and turns to me. “And you must be Joshua.”

“Josh is fine,” I say, earning a glare from Mom. “Nice to meet you, Mrs. Villa.”

“Brina, please. I have a feeling we’re going to get to know each other very well.” The way she says it makes my stomach churn, and I have a feeling I’m not going to like what’s about to happen. “Come, come, let’s get out of this heat.”

Brina ushers us inside a two-story rounded foyer, and my eyes are immediately drawn to the painted ceiling depicting ancient Romans lying about half-naked—interesting choice. Stepping through an archway, I decide the interior looks like it was pulled from a magazine, which, let’s be real, it probably was. The open living area includes both a sitting and dining space with a fireplace overlooking a back wall made of windows. Double doors on both ends open to a large courtyard.

Brina leads us down the right side of a white stone hallway that goes in both directions. Two more arched wooden doors open to the kitchen, off of which a less (but still) formal living area is located down two steps. Two women I don’t recognize cook in the kitchen, but they don’t even acknowledge us when we pass through to the dining area. Just underneath a large window overlooking the backyard and the lake is a long, glass table where Elizabeth Cain, adopted daughter of the Villa family, sits with a steaming cup in front of her.

What is she doing here?

Our eyes meet, and hers narrow slightly. She’s not happy, but I’m not sure if that’s because I’m here or because of what is about to happen.

“Sit, sit, Anna will be finished with brunch soon,” Brina instructs, falling into the chair at the head of the table. She turns to Elizabeth. “I’m glad you made it.”

Elizabeth tears her gaze from mine, but she doesn’t look any happier than when she looked at me.

“What did you tell Davina?” Brina asks, taking the cup of coffee one of the chefs offers her without looking up. Her bright, steely eyes don’t match the smile she offers over the rim of the cup.

“Nothing, this doesn’t concern her,” Elizabeth quips.

Brina huffs. “And when she asks why you had to leave her company this morning?”

“I have other things to do besides be glued to her side day in and day out, despite what you may think, Brina.”

I don’t know about that. Elizabeth and Nina are inseparable, and while they may only be sisters in a legal sense, you’d never know the difference. I’m not sure where Michaela fits into the equation, but after meeting Nina in class last fall, she’s been with them almost every day. That’s how we met—Elizabeth and I—and it was obvious we were like two pieces of different puzzles. It was her attitude I disliked most. The holier-than-thou pretentiousness that made it seem like she was better than everyone else. While we’ve only met a handful of times, usually when Nina drags her along, it always ends the same: one of us pissed off and the other one satisfied.

“Can we get this over with? I’m driving to Savannah tonight,” Elizabeth says, taking a sip of her tea.

“Don’t get ahead of yourself.” Brina smirks. “Nothing has been set in stone.”

“Then, how about we get started.”

“Soon,” Brina says as the two chefs bring plates to the table. “There’s no use rushing what you can’t control.”

The blonde chef, who Brina called Anna earlier, sets a fresh mug of coffee in front of Brina before stalking back to the kitchen to begin preparing yet another meal. I’m used to Mom making all of our meals; I never considered the fact that some people have private chefs to do it for them. The other chef—Janet, I think—left thirty minutes ago to get something from the store. I have a feeling she is taking her time because it doesn’t seem like breaks are much of a thing around here.

Brunch was uneventful, the only conversation happening between Brina and Mom. It seemed like they were dancing around the real topic of conversation: why we’re here. We’ve been sitting here for almost an hour and a half, and I still have no idea why that is.

“Now that we’ve had time to enjoy ourselves, it’s time to get down to business,” Brina finally says, taking a folder from a drawer in the antique hutch behind her. She sets it down on the table and looks my mother in the eye. “I’ve had my lawyer draw up an agreement, should the kids like what we are about to propose.”

“And what is that exactly?” I ask.

“Well, Joshua, it seems you’ve gotten yourself into a bit of a situation. Correct?”

A wave of shame rolls through me, crescendoing with a thick coat of nausea stuck in my throat, but I force it back down. I glance at Mom, but she won’t look at me. She hasn’t said, but I know she’s disappointed. Wondering where she went wrong. Wondering how her straight-A, straight-laced son could do something like this. If you asked my parents, they’d probably tell you I never drank or smoked or did anything wrong growing up. I was the model child everyone should strive to have. Little did they know that I wasn’t as straight-laced as they thought. But I guess that’s part of being a kid, isn’t it?

“And Elizabeth here wants all of her inheritance and to attend her dream school,” Brina says, looking at Elizabeth. “Isn’t that correct?”

Elizabeth refuses to meet her gaze but meets mine briefly.

“What does that have to do with me?” I ask.

“There is a way to solve both of your predicaments.” Brina opens the folder and lays it out in front of me.

Skimming over the first few lines, my stomach plummets at the words on the page. I look at my mom again. Surely this is a joke. She can’t honestly think this is going to solve anything. “An arranged marriage? You’re insane.”

“Josh,” Mom starts, but Brina lifts her hand, silencing her.

“I understand your confusion, Joshua, but it’s really very simple. Elizabeth can’t receive her full inheritance until she marries, per the will of her late parents, and she wants to attend the Savannah College of Art and Design, not Duke, for photography. Thomas and Ethel were adamant that Elizabeth attend her father’s alma mater, another stipulation if she wants her college paid for. However, Duke doesn’t have the program she wants. And you, Josh, need help making your situation disappear. I can make that happen, along with making sure you graduate on time and get a job.”

Can she really do all of that?

That Cheshire smile creeps its way back onto her face. She knows she almost has me hooked. “In case you’ve forgotten, I’m Brina Villa. I may not be my husband, but that name still means something.”

I swallow the lump building in my throat and meet Elizabeth’s gaze across the table. She’s hard to read, but she doesn’t seem shocked by any of this, which means Brina has already proposed the idea to her, and the fact that she’s sitting here tells me she’s willing to accept it.

“We can’t just…get married, everyone we know would be a little suspicious considering”—I motion between myself and Elizabeth—“we don’t get along.”

“Yes, that’s all been laid out in the paperwork.” Brina flips through the pages before landing on the one she wants. At the top of the page, in large, bold letters, it says: TERMS AND CONDITIONS .

Beneath it, there are ten points. I skim them, each one detailing every aspect of our lives. The more I read, the more surreal this all becomes. Brina has thought of everything, and I can’t help but wonder how long she’s been planning this. Has she always wanted to rid the family of their adopted daughter?

“Six years of marriage is a long time considering it’ll be four years of courting if we wait until she graduates,” I say, looking up from the list and referring to term number five.

“Six and a half is the perfect number.” Brina smiles. “Believable and random. Anything shorter would be suspicious.”

“Nina will never believe this,” I say. Not to mention, Elizabeth is dating William Cawthorn, son of a local congressman. Wouldn’t it seem strange that she’d dump him for someone like me? We could probably fool everyone else, but Nina would see straight through it.

“She will if we sell it right,” Elizabeth says, drawing everyone’s attention.