3. Victoria
3
VICTORIA
A thank you note.
What kind of asshole fires a member of his staff over something so petty? It was supposed to be a nice gesture, a way of thanking Mr. Murray for rescuing Mason, but then the arrogant asshole goes and ruins it by firing me on my first day on the job.
“Can I at least speak to him?” I ask his hard-faced assistant.
Denise wasn’t wrong when she said the woman is a control freak. She stands between me and Mr. Murray’s office door like she’s half-expecting me to barge inside and call him a prick to his face. Because that would never do. She’s obviously given herself the job title of Head of Security as well as Personal-fucking-Assistant.
“No. Mr. Murray is a busy man.”
“I only wanted to thank him for last night.” Realizing how that sounds, I quickly add, “He helped my brother. Outside the diner where I work. Worked .” Jeez, how to screw myself over in less than a minute.
She stops trying to turn herself into a human barricade and peers at the tablet glued to her hand. Frown lines appear on her forehead. That must be some email she’s reading because her knuckles go white around the edges of the tablet.
Finally, she looks at me as if wishing she’d dismissed me sooner. “Mr. Murray wishes to offer you another role.” She might as well have said, “ If I had my way, you’d already be out the door with a signed promise never to return .”
“Another role?”
“Yes.”
Jeez, the woman doesn’t make it easy. “What kind of role?”
“Mr. Murray will explain when he’s ready, I’m sure. Follow me, and I’ll see that you’re suitably attired.”
“Suitably attired?”
I follow her into a room and through another door into what can only be described as a walk-in closet. This room is lined with clothes, male and female, arranged in color order, with enough pairs of coordinating shoes to fill a shoe store; there are even purses and belts and wallets.
Miss Ingram gestures to a rack filled with little black dresses. “One of these should do. Come and find me when you’re ready.”
“Wait. Why do I need?—”
But she’s already gone.
I’m unsure about this. I mean, these dresses are not what I’d expect to wear to work. In fact, I’ve never owned anything this classy or expensive, and it occurs to me then that perhaps Mr. Murray runs a brothel masquerading as a swanky hotel, and my punishment for sending him a thank-you note is being sold to a client for the night.
Even so, I find a sparkling black dress and literally pour myself into it, studying my reflection in the mirror, and wondering if it’s rigged to show a fake glamorous version of the person standing in front of it. I’ve never looked this good. I barely even recognize the face peering back at me, but I tell myself that Caleb Murray saved Mason, and he wouldn’t throw me under the bus instead.
Would he?
Besides, I need the money.
Before I can talk myself out of it, I’m wearing the black dress and talking to Miss Ingram when the door to his office opens, and Caleb Murray is standing there in a suit and tie, gold highlights in his brown hair, and green eyes roaming me from head to toe.
Man, he looks even hotter than he did in a leather jacket. That chest… He for sure works out, and even now I’m imagining him straddling that sleek, black, panther-like Harley with me riding pillion.
So, when he offers me his hand and tells me to keep smiling, I walk into his office with him, heart thumping so crazily, that I think I misheard him when he tells his guests that we’re married.
Wait! What the actual fuck just happened here?
As if sensing my reluctance to play along with whatever crazy game this is, Caleb squeezes my hand. My heart obliges by galloping away from me, my lips instinctively smiling at the silver fox and the stunning supermodel who are staring at me from the sofa like I’ve grown a second head. And … is that a beauty spot on her upper lip?
Smile , I tell myself. This will all be over soon, and then you can go home and pretend it never happened.
Only Caleb is standing a little too close for comfort, and he smells so good, like freaking cookies, and the supermodel looks as if she wants to throttle me with her bare hands. Not so beautiful now that her expression is twisted into a warped sneer, her cruel intentions toward me manifesting themselves into features more suited to the wicked queen than the innocent princess.
“No.” The supermodel shakes her head. “I don’t believe you. I’d have heard about it if you were married.”
“It was a small private wedding back home,” Caleb says.
Okay, so he’s still running with the fake-marriage story.
I keep smiling.
“No press involved. Just how we wanted it to be.” He squeezes my hand again, and I nod along like one of those marionettes with the painted-on expressions that always freak me out.
Her eyes narrow, and she turns on Caleb. “You’re lying. He’s fucking lying, Dad.” This is aimed at the silver fox. “Who even is she?” Her face contorts again like I’m nobody because I’ve managed to fly under her glossy-magazine radar.
My hackles are instantly up. Who does this woman think she is? Whatever has gone on between her and Caleb in the past doesn’t give her the right to look at me as if I’m not worthy of his attention.
Jutting my chin, I toss my curls over my shoulder and lean so close to Caleb that my left breast rubs against his arm sending a shiver down my spine that I force myself to ignore. “I’m his wife, Victoria Murray.” I almost choke on the absurdity of the statement, but my gaze remains fixed on hers.
“Show me the ring!”
I’m momentarily reminded of Abigail stomping her foot, dark curls bouncing around her face when she demands to stay up past bedtime and read more books.
“Olivia.” The silver fox places a hand on his daughter’s arm to placate her, but she shrugs it off.
Her face crumples then, and her eyes grow large with tears. “Caleb, tell me this isn’t true.” Okay, so this is how she’s going to play it, now that throwing a tantrum isn’t getting her anywhere. “Please, babe.”
Babe? Ugh!
“I’m sorry, Olivia. I don’t know what you wanted to hear tonight, but Victoria and I are very much married, and very much in love.”
To prove it, Caleb leans over and kisses me on the lips.
It sends my heart hurtling over the precipice, and my brain cells reeling. No one else has ever kissed me that way, well, no one apart from Danny Zuko, and he only exists in my dreams these days. This situation, Caleb Murray pretending we’re married, the beautiful guests with their suspicious eyes and angry hearts, Miss Ingram and her walk-in closet… It all vanishes when I feel his tongue sliding between my lips.
Olivia lets out a low animal-like groan.
Caleb releases me, and it’s all I can do to remain standing.
“What about us, Caleb?” she whines.
“Olivia, there is no us.” He slides an arm around my waist, and yep, his chest is every bit as solid as I thought it was.
“But I thought… We’ve always been so good together.”
Somehow, even with the whining voice, Caleb remains calm. “We dated for six months, Olivia, and that was ten years ago.”
“Okay.” The silver fox stands up and raises both hands in a gesture of mock surrender. “I can see that we’re done here. Thank you for your time, Caleb. It is unfortunate that we were unable to settle our business proposal as I’d hoped.” He takes my left hand in his and raises it to his lips, his eyes noting the absence of a wedding ring. “A pleasure to meet you, Victoria.”
The sound of my name on his tongue makes me shiver. I don’t know why, but I’m left with the overwhelming sensation that I’d be happier if he didn’t know who I was, but it’s already too late for that.
He guides a tearful Olivia out the door, and I’m left standing in Caleb Murray’s office with his hand around my waist.
When the door closes behind them, he pulls away and watches me with a curious expression on his face. He has green eyes I realize now with a stab of loss that makes my breath catch in my throat.
Stupid, I remind myself. Stupid! It was one night, nothing more was ever going to come of it. One amazing, passion-filled, night of the kind of sex most people only ever read about in books. It wasn’t real life.
So, why do my eyes fill with tears when Caleb Murray says, “Thank you, Victoria. I should’ve warned you, but I didn’t think you’d go through with it if you knew what I was going to do.”
Damn fucking right I wouldn’t have gone through with it!
“I’ll return the dress,” I find myself saying.
“Keep it.”
His eyes roam the dress and then he grabs a glass from the coffee table and fills it with amber liquid from an expensive-looking bottle. Of course it’s expensive like everything else in Caleb Murray’s life.
“It suits you.”
“What about the money?” Because, you know, this isn’t my reality. I’m not married to Caleb Murray, and he fired me earlier over a dumb gesture that anyone else would’ve accepted with a smile of appreciation.
“I’ll see that you get paid.” He’s still watching me as if he’s only just realizing that he used me—a real live human being—to get a goddamned supermodel off his case. “I’ll need you to sign an NDA with Lauren.”
And that’s what tips me over the edge. He’ll send me on my way with a month’s wages and a declaration of silence, and I’ll still have no job, and rent to pay, while he sits here knocking back cognac with his tight-assed assistant playing havoc with people’s lives.
“He knows we’re not married.”
That gets his attention. His gaze flickers from my face to the dress and back again. “Why do you say that?”
I raise my left hand and flash my naked ring finger. “No ring.” I don’t know who that guy was, and I don’t care to know either, but he sure as hell means something to Caleb Murray.
It is unfortunate that we were unable to settle our business proposal as I’d hoped.
Caleb refills his glass without offering me a drink. “I’ll buy you a ring.”
“Why? We’re not married.”
“I need him to believe that we are.”
“Why don’t you just tell him that you don’t want to marry his daughter?”
He looks at me then and shakes his head as if I’m a child who has been listening in on an adult conversation. “It isn’t that simple.”
“He can’t force you to marry someone you don’t love.”
Now, I know I’ve said the wrong thing when he pinches the skin between his eyebrows and closes his eyes briefly. When he opens them again and speaks, his voice has become clipped, professional, back in control.
“I’ll get my brother to draw up a legal marriage certificate. He can backdate it, and leak something to the press before Olivia gets to them.
“Whoa, hold on.” How did this go from a private conversation to full-blown legal documents tying my name to that of Caleb Murray. “I’m not marrying you for real.”
“It’s just a document. It can be annulled once this blows over.”
But I’m not listening. “It might just be a document to you, but to me, marriage is something I only want to do once in my life. When I meet a man and fall in love, I want it to be special.”
“And I’m sure it will be.” Caleb downs a second drink, grimacing as the burn hits. Man, I could do with one of those, but I’m fucked if I’m going to beg him for a drink. “This changes nothing, Victoria.”
The way he says my name stops me in my tracks, like I’ve heard him say it before.
He holds his phone to his ear, and I’m jolted back to reality.
“Wait!” I pace the room, back and forth, avoiding eye contact with him because I bet that he always gets exactly what he wants with his sexy green eyes, and this girl is not going to be bullied into marrying a stranger. “It changes everything for me.” I stop pacing and face him, keeping my eyes on his polished black shoes. “I can’t do it. I’m sorry.”
I head for the door, and he stops me with a warm hand on my arm, forcing me to look into his eyes. “Name your price, Victoria. All I want is a signature on the bottom of the marriage certificate.”
Fuck! Why am I such a sucker for green eyes? I blame Danny Zuko.
“That’s all?”
I’m thinking I’ll maybe get enough out of him to cover my rent for the next few months until I can get another job and get my life back on track, and perhaps a little extra for Sienna. His hair has copper and gold highlights when it catches the light I notice now; the Universe dealt him a great hand when he was born. It must’ve taken one look at him and thought this one’s going to shine like a goddamned star.
“I might need you to attend a couple events with me, to make it look convincing.”
Ohhh… There are worse things a gal could do for money, I guess.
“Can I think about it?”
“Sure. Give me your answer in the morning.” Then he hands me a goddamned business card.
Sienna is waiting for me when I get home.
“Where’s Mason?” I shrug off my coat, dump my purse onto the table, and toe off my shoes.
“I don’t know.” Sienna eyes up the black dress, her gaze finally meeting mine. “Don’t freak out, Vic, but the school called me when they couldn’t get hold of you or Mason. Abigail had locked herself in the restroom because she took a projector apart and they told her it was a stupid thing to do. I had to coax her out with a promise to take her to the Museum of Modern Art this weekend.”
Sienna can’t help chuckling, and before long, we’re both laughing out loud. Abigail is intelligent beyond her years, and this isn’t the first time she’s gotten into trouble at school, and she’s only in kindergarten.
“What kind of teacher tells a kid they’re being stupid?” It’s a sobering thought, and I’ll need to take it up with the head teacher.
“What’s with the dress?” Sienna asks.
I smile. “I got married tonight.”