Chapter 10
River
Back at the resort the next day, I return to my office after a break, hunched over my lemon blueberry muffin on a Styrofoam plate from the corner eatery like I’m Gollum from Lord of the Rings. This little precious is my one connection of the day to the outside world, so I’m going to cherish it.
The shame of planning to enter a marriage of convenience with my boss’s brother, unbeknownst to my boss, has me wanting to take up homesteading right inside my office. I wasn’t even going to leave my office at all.
But the corner eatery’s blueberry lemon muffins are one hundred percent worth the risk of running into someone and accidentally blathering about how I basically had to sell myself to keep my sister safe and happy.
That sounds tawdry. And maybe it is, since my sister’s care is my number one priority. Sometimes you gotta do what you gotta do for the people you love. You might be surprised at what people do for their older sisters who can’t make it in life without them.
Jana’s sure thrilled about it, though. Last night, she was talking about wedding dresses and asking me things like, “Is he a mayonnaise person or a Miracle Whip person?”
How am I supposed to know?
“These are things you need to know,”
she’d insisted. “If you’re going to convince people this is real, you’d better find out.”
Basically, she was zero help.
I’ve just scored a piece of the sugary, crusty top of my muffin and popped it in my mouth when I see him in the lobby. My first instinct? Run and hide.
I can’t face my soon-to-be husband right now.
Except, he sees me. Ugh. I bob my head. I’ll just go in my office and if he wants to join me to talk things over, he can knock on my door like a civilized person. I’m busy. I have a muffin to eat.
But I’ve just stepped near the elevator bank when I sense him getting nearer and nearer to me.
“River!”
His voice goes up and then down like imagine seeing you here. He bridges the gap and takes two more steps before he envelops me in a hug. It’s so tight I’m frozen on the spot, my arms straight down to my sides.
“Hug me back,”
he whispers in my ear, warming the whole side of my neck and down my arm. He moves away from me just enough to give me room.
Mutely, I snake my arms around his back, muffin plate still in hand, and immediately hate myself for it. He says jump and I say how high? This is pathetic.
“I would have if you’d hadn’t attacked me like a missile to a Soviet submarine.”
His laughter is rich in my ear and my skin betrays me as I break out in goosebumps.
He kisses the side of my forehead. It’s swift, a bit like a grandpa’s kiss, but I don’t even have time to register it before I hear the voice of Trevor from the front desk as he comes toward us.
“I wasn’t sure why Gabriel was asking to meet with you, and I tried to call, but . . .”
He sputters, his gaze going between us. I step apart from Gabriel, cradling my muffin plate to my chest.
“Now I see that you . . . already know each other, so . . .”
Trevor stops and frowns.
“What can I say, Trevor? We have had quite the month, haven’t we . . . Gabby?”
I pull him into a side hug, keeping my muffin safe. If he’s going to plow me over with an unauthorized hug, I get to call him a stupid nickname.
He frowns. “Uh. Yes. We have and when I needed to do some business here, I jumped at the chance to see my best girl.”
“That’s right.”
I flick a giggly glance at him.
His best girl? What is this? Some Jimmy Stewart movie from the 1930s?
I am so out of my element here, and I’ve known Trevor long enough that I’m positive he can see right through me. How am I going to convince anyone that I’m suddenly in love with my boss’s brother?
“Well, then, glad you found her,”
Trevor offers, his brow wrinkled and his eyes wide.
Without another word, and just as I’m trying to get away from the side hug, Gabriel thanks Trevor and wheels me around. We walk down the hall to the administrative offices, still glued to one another’s sides.
“Gabby?”
he hisses in my ear.
“I had the right to call you that! You attacked me without warning.”
“Attacked you?”
Now he loosens his hold on me. And his tone softens. “I—”
he stumbles over his words. “We have to be convincing, that’s all. I’m sorry if you felt attacked.”
“It’s . . .”
Len from the purchasing department comes out of a door and into the corridor and I feel so on display. I swallow hard. I’m never getting used to this.
Gabriel and I share a silent look and continue down the hall until we reach my office. Finally. The moment we close the door behind us, I set my muffin plate on my desk and shove him away from me with both hands.
“Ow!”
Gabriel says, rubbing his shoulder, which is solid. Very solid.
“We’re even now.”
“We’re under a microscope,”
he insists. “We have a limited amount of time to establish that we’re a legitimate couple. And Trevor’s the hub of the resort. He knows everyone.”
I’m breathing heavily and don’t exactly know why, except for that little one-minute acting gig just about killed me.
I fling myself in my chair and lean way back, looking at the ceiling. “Did you bring the contract?”
“First, about your car.”
I squeeze my eyes shut and hope he has good news.
“The whole spark plug system needs to be replaced. We’re talking the spark plugs, wires, coils, and—”
I straighten and open my eyes to see him screwing up his face.
“—and some other words I don’t remember.”
I laugh, in spite of myself. “And how much time and money is this going to take?”
“We’ll get to that.”
“I’d rather just know right now.”
“We should go over the contract.”
He pulls some papers out of his messenger bag and nods. “This is just the first draft my lawyer sent over. We’re supposed to read through it and mark it up with notes of things we need changed. Hopefully we can have the final draft signed by tomorrow.”
I sigh and hold out my hand. Right as he’s about to give them to me, he warns, “Don’t call me Gabby.”
A wicked smile twists my lips. “I’ll try not to.”
He glares, pressing his lips together, making his dimples sink deep. How does anyone resist those dimples?
I don’t know, but I’m going to have to figure it out.
Neither of us are budging and finally, I stand to grab the papers from him. He tugs on them a moment before letting go. They’re a little crinkled, but we can deal with that.
I glare at him as I’m smoothing them out. When I catch a glimpse of the amount of money he’s going to give directly to Caring Souls, I’m both thrilled and full of grief. This means Skye gets to go to Caring Souls. But that also means I can’t take care of her or protect her like I need to.
There’s another feeling, too. Something like relief. It’s relief over finally not having to worry about finances for a while, but there’s another layer, as well. The moment it reaches my consciousness, I shut it down and focus on the contract again.
“’No dating others,’”
I read. “‘No flirting with others.’ Yep. That won’t be a problem for me.”
I stare at him. “Will that be a problem for you?”
“No, it will not.”
His stare is steely, like he’s daring me to press him further.
It’s not worth it to make this a thing, so I look at the contract again. There’s another amount on the line below. “What’s this extra money?”
“It’s to pay for the car repair and wedding expenses.”
It’s quite the hefty sum and my first inclination is to tell him no. But you know what? If he’s offering, I should accept, right?
He goes on. “It’s going to take a few days for them to get around to making the repairs, so until then, I’ll give you rides.”
I shake my head. “Jana can.”
Another thought comes to me. “How are you able to afford all this? You’re not working right now.”
“I still have my freelance consulting work. I have several clients I’ve been working with on the side and that’s bringing in money. Plus, I cashed out a couple of other accounts I’d been adding to the past few years. It’s fine.”
I nod. “And will you send the money for Skye to me? Or to the group home?”
He cocks his head to one side. “As your fiancé, I’ll pay them directly.”
Holy crap. I have a fiancé.
Making a face, he goes on. “You’ll also see in the contract a possible addition of money for you to buy a different car, in the event the garage can’t repair it.”
“Wait. I’m not getting a different car.”
“What if you don’t have any other choice? Besides, the Civic is old. It’s probably smarter to sell it for parts and get something more reliable.”
How dare he suggest that? “It was my dad’s car. I’m never getting rid of it.”
Gabriel only moistens his lips and goes onto the next page. The first line item makes my cheeks burn. It shouldn’t since this is a business arrangement. “No sexual relations.”
I nod. “Good. Glad that’s established.”
I don’t even look up. I don’t want to know what the look on his face is.
“And while in public, we have to act like a married couple. Makes sense.”
I shiver when I think of how it felt when he enveloped me in that hug, once I got over the initial shock. I know it was for show . . . so Trevor would be convinced and hopefully spread the word far and wide. But in some small way, it felt real. Which is exactly why I must keep my wits about me.
I read further. “And we’ll live in the same house for the year we’re married.”
I swallow hard. “A year. It feels so long.”
“Yeah. Tell me about it.”
He’s sitting, leaning forward, his forearms on his thighs, his gaze on the floor, like he’s just been sentenced to a year in the state pen.
The next paragraph makes me gasp. “Next week? We’re getting married next week?”
“We can get married the same day we get the license. It’ll be a brief, casual ceremony. No guests. Just you and me. Two insanely in love people not wanting to wait another second before they start their new life together.”
He smirks.
I click my tongue, my voice wobbling. “Such a mockery of the institution of marriage.”
I wasn’t planning on going deep right now, but I did, and the emotion of it surprises me.
He seems a little stunned by my remark, but I don’t give him a chance to respond because I have more to say as I read. “And if it’s not working out to live together, we can live apart, discreetly, if we both agree.”
He nods and his look is wary. “If there’s probable cause. And after a thirty-day waiting period.”
He clears his throat.
I adjust my seat and chew on my lip. What if he decides I’m not worth it once he gets to know me? How would I feel? I’d take it personally, like I’m not marriage material.
And now, I have to know if he really does see me as marriage material. But I can’t ask him that. I will obsess over it in the privacy of my own head like usual.
I read ahead. “In the event of a thirty-day waiting period, we have to go to marriage counseling semi-weekly? What in the actual heck?”
“It has to be a difficult process to live apart. I don’t need to explain again how important it is to live in the same house and act the part.”
He stands, like he’s done here, and his spicy, clean scent tickles my nose.
“Just out of curiosity, what are some deal breakers for you?”
I ask. I have to know. “So I don’t accidentally get on your bad side.”
Now I’m the one who smirks.
He hesitates. “My family is . . . for lack of a better word . . . somewhat formal. There are expectations. There are events that require acting a certain way. Like, community things. We have to keep up appearances.”
“So if I’m not formal enough, you’re outta here?”
He hesitates, his dimples curving forlornly. “I think you’ll be fine.”
This focus on whether or not I’m going to be good enough is making me itchy. “And that brings up another point. What are you going to be doing all this time? Playing video games at home? Growing out your toenails? Joining a boardgame club?”
“Does Longdale even have a boardgame club?”
“I have no idea.”
Exasperation climbs up the back of my throat. “The point is, I’d feel kind of weird being at work all day while you’re just twiddling your thumbs.”
“I’m not capable of sitting around, I’ll be helping my family and freelancing. I’ll also be working on getting new clients. You probably won’t even see me that much.”
I don’t know why that comment agitates me, but it does.
I toggle my computer awake and get into my email. “I’m sending you some stuff I came up with, like you asked me to before. I did a reputation assessment and provided you with a write-up on that. The TL;DR is basically that there’s been some mention of you getting fired and some Reddit threads talking about your unsavory choices. But it’s nothing we can’t handle. I’m including a crisis management strategy and some messaging development ideas.”
His brows go in the air. “I wasn’t aware you were still going to work on this from a PR perspective.”
My mouth makes a noise of surprise. “I couldn’t leave it alone. It’s like a scab that’s half torn off. I have to rip off the rest.”
“That’s disgusting.”
I put my pointer finger in the air. “But accurate.”
He opens his mouth to say something more right as there’s a knock at my door. Gabriel moves to get it.
“I can answer my own—”
But before I can finish, there’s a chuff of a laugh and so much back slapping and bro hugging that I totally forget what I was saying.
While still in their embrace, the newcomer laughs, and that’s when I catch a glimpse of his youthful olive skin and dark surfer hair. “I figured you’d be here,” he says.
“This has to be Milo,”
I say, and I can’t stop the smile from spreading across my face. The brotherly connection is charming.
Until they start to scuffle and it ends with Milo on the floor and Gabriel sitting on top of him, pinning his shoulders down.
Okay . . . “This is juvenile.”
“Just reminding my college grad baby brother who’s still in charge.”
Gabriel says through gritted teeth. His face is turning red. “And feel free to call him ‘Lolo.’”
“Please don’t,”
Milo eeks out, a very broad and solid Gabriel cutting off his air supply. “And you’re not in charge.”
He labors over a breath. “That would be Sebastian.”
“Congrats on your graduation,” I offer.
“Thanks,”
Milo manages. “It was in May, but I’ve been doing an internship.”
Gabriel stands and pulls Milo up with him. Their hair is mussed. In all the ways that Gabriel is lighter complected, Milo is the opposite, with dark hair like a Disney prince. All combine to give him the confident air of being young and a Tate.
“I hadn’t heard you’d be coming back to Colorado.”
Gabriel straightens Milo’s black T-shirt, and the movement is surprisingly tender. I have to look away.
“Had to be here for the whole thing, you know.”
I don’t know what he’s talking about, but somehow his words kick me into gear, and I remember I’m supposed to be pretending I'm in love with Gabriel. I sidle up next to him and ease my hand into his. Gabriel startles lightly at first, and then flicks a grateful look in my direction.
“You really don’t,”
Gabriel says to Milo. “But I’m glad to see you. Have you seen everyone else?”
“Not yet. Sebastian’s probably too deep in his work, so I’ll find the others.”
“Elianna’s got his priorities straightened out,”
Gabriel says. “But he still works a lot. And you passed Alec’s office, so I’m surprised you didn’t see him.”
He cranks his neck to see me better. “River, this is my youngest brother, Milo. And Milo, this is River, Sebastian’s PR rep.”
“Director of PR.”
I can’t help it.
He nods and grins. “Nice to meet you.”
He’s all boyish and sweet. He looks pointedly at our still intertwined hands but doesn’t comment.
“I know all the Tate siblings now,” I say.
“Now you just have to meet the parents.”
Milo’s voice is jubilant. “And lucky for you, they’ll be here tomorrow night. Mom wants to throw a little party in my honor, and they figured they’d come up here to Longdale instead of asking everyone to drive down.”
Tomorrow? I’m meeting Thomas and Celine Tate tomorrow?
Gabriel stills, his hand tensing in mine. I’m sure it won’t be easy for him to see his father again. There’s a beat of silence and then another one.
“Great,”
Gabriel finally says. “And she also needs to meet Benson.”
“Right,”
I say, nodding. “The new brother. Well, new to you all.”
“Mom says he’s coming here from Seattle next month, so that might be the time, assuming you two are still . . .”
“Okay, cut it out, Lolo.”
Gabriel lets go of my hand. “You can stop pretending you don’t know.”
Milo laughs, doubling over. “I have to say, you two are convincing, with the long stares and the hand holding.”
He laughs again and claps his hands. “Wait. Does she know I know?”
I move to give Gabriel a hearty shove. “Why did you let me carry on like that if he already knows everything?”
Gabriel dodges me. “It was good practice. And see? We passed with flying colors. Well done.”
I glower. “Who else knows?”
“Just Milo, I promise. I had to tell someone.”
“And you didn’t try to talk him out of it?”
I ask Milo, then turn on Gabriel before he can answer. “We should add that to the contract. That both of us need to know who all knows.”
“Who have you told?”
Gabriel asks me.
“Just Jana, my best friend. I’ve sworn her to secrecy.”
One brow goes in the air and his blue eyes scrunch together. “You trust her implicitly?”
“Absolutely.”
I point to Milo. “What about him?”
“Milo’s a locked vault. As the youngest, there was no other way to survive.”
Milo nods and gives a small smile. “I wouldn’t do anything to jeopardize this. Gabriel deserves Dad’s company, and I’m glad you said yes.”
“I haven’t signed anything yet.”
“Well then, I’ll leave you be. Maybe I’ll start wandering around and see which brother I run into first.”
The two of them start doing a complicated series of fist bumps and palm smacks. “You’d better watch out, Gabriel. You might get used to it here and want to stay like everyone else.”
Gabriel just shakes his head. We say goodbye to Milo and as soon as the door is closed, I put my hand over my heart. “I don’t think I’ll ever get used to this. And Gabriel? It wasn’t cool that you let me go on, thinking Milo didn’t have a clue. Why did you do that?”
He shrugs, a touch of color gracing his cheeks. “I like holding your hand.”
There’s a beat in which I believe him, his earnest smile simmering down the flares of anxiousness in my soul.
But I don’t tell him that. “Don’t get used to it,”
I say. “We can just both pray this year will go by quickly and be over before we know it.”
Gabriel’s eye twitches, and I have to look away. There’s a carefully masked look of longing on his face. Hidden, but for some reason, I see the edges of it. Like maybe he wouldn’t want it to end.
And neither will Skye.
How am I going to feel when it’s over?