Chapter 10
Chapter Ten
WEST
Blue was quick. She’d grabbed a bag and slid into the backseat of the SUV with me within fifteen minutes of pulling up. It was just before ten when Marcus pulled onto the highway with his direct orders to get us to my penthouse. He looked confused but never questioned.
Blue stayed quiet beside me for the first few minutes, tucked up against the door looking braced for impact. I couldn't blame her. In a matter of a few hours we had both turned our lives upside down, and it was hard to tell which way was up.
“Tell me everything I need to know about you, Blue,” I finally said, keeping my eyes ahead.
She snorted softly, barely audible over the hum of the tires. “What’s there to know?”
“If people are supposed to believe we’re married because we fell in love, then they’ll assume I at least know your last name. Or if ‘Blue’ is even your real name.”
I already knew the answer. I’d accessed the file on her from Fiddlers so I could get my lawyer working on a contract.
Her name was Blair Caldwell, which didn’t give me any clue as to why she went by Blue.
Then again, I’d have to be blind to not know someone along the way must have looked into her piercing blue eyes and was never able to call her anything else.
Maybe I was wrong, but it didn’t feel like a coincidence.
“Isn’t my last name supposed to be Brooks?” She snapped out, sounding more annoyed than I had realized.
“Don’t,” I warned. “Tell me your name.”
“You already know.”
But I wanted to hear her say it. I wanted the space between us to feel real, even if everything else was just an elaborate lie. I needed it to feel real.
“Say it,” I growled, getting impatient.
“Blair Leigh Caldwell,” she finally sighed, her voice cautious, as if giving me her name was a piece of herself she wasn’t sure I deserved.
Which, to be fair, I didn’t. “I’ve always been called Blue.
Dad says it's because of my eyes, others say it’s a play off my name.
Doesn’t matter. Blue is all I answer to. ”
“It’s pretty,” I said. “Blair suits you.”
She shrugged. “It’s just for doctors and bill collectors.”
I looked over, catching the way her fingers twisted in her lap.
She was still in her cutoff shorts and a worn-out T-shirt from work.
She looked like every man’s fantasy, and every doorman’s suspicion.
Thankfully, we would bypass my doorman through direct access to the top floor, but even if we weren’t, I’d dare him to look sideways at Blue.
She may not have liked me much, but she was doing more for me than she would ever realize.
Wherever we were, she was going to be respected.
I leaned back against my door, angling to look at her even though I had been trying not to. I wanted to make things more casual, more relaxed. I sucked at being around people. Only my family had ever gotten the side of me that I was trying to pretend to be for her in that moment.
“You’re nervous.”
“I’m questioning my sanity.”
“Hey, look! We already have something in common.”
She glanced at me through the dark, her smile making me feel better. In business, I had never been one for feelings, but I was incredibly aware our transaction wasn’t typical. It wasn’t taking place in a boardroom. There were no team meetings and battles of data and numbers.
If we were going to work, we had to be comfortable around each other, and that meant I had to pretend to be someone I wasn’t. Less intimidating. Less demanding. More charming.
“Tell me more about home,” I prompted, shifting gears. I needed enough details to make this whole thing believable, but more than that, I needed to understand her. Because the more I knew, the more I could protect her from whatever this plan might stir up.
She exhaled, seemingly annoyed again that I had asked her a question, but I waited patiently until she started talking.
“Dad has ALS. He hasn’t been able to walk for two years, but we’ve made the housework.
My mom left when I was six. She took my older sister, which gutted my dad, but she wasn’t biologically his child, so he couldn't say shit. Dad doesn’t talk about it because he knows I’m bitter, but he still hears from her sometimes.
Mostly, I’m just thankful that he raised me on his own.
I’ve been working at Fiddlers ever since, trying to give him everything he gave me. ”
I turned to stare straight ahead, jaw tight.
That was… a lot. My parents died in a fire.
Everyone knew that. It was tragic and I blamed myself every day for being the reason.
But somehow, being left? Intentionally? Then watching someone she loved suffer for years with no cure in sight?
That was a different kind of hell. One that dragged on and didn’t even have the decency to burn everything down all at once.
“I’m not trying to make your life harder,” I said, meaning it.
She didn’t answer. Just turned toward the window, the dim light in the car casting a shadow across her face.
She didn’t ask about me. Not that I expected her to.
She already knew the basics. Everyone did.
I was Miles and Easton’s older brother. The one who left town the moment he got the chance.
The one whose parents didn’t make it out.
The one who should’ve been home that night, but wasn’t.
That’s all she needed to know, anyway.
Because the rest? The guilt, the grief, the fact that I felt more like a ghost than a man most days?
That wasn’t part of the story she was signing up to fake.
And maybe that was a good thing. Because if she looked too closely, she’d see how little of me was left.