Jaime
JAIME
Our table overlooks the ocean as the sun sets on the horizon, casting the sky in pinks and golden yellows. The private room is cozy, with soft chairs and exquisite food. Louis is charming and attentive, living up to his promise to get to know me with thoughtful comments and insightful questions, but it feels wrong.
It's not him. He’s still every bit the dream man. Not too short, not too tall. Dark blond hair and bright blue eyes, golden skin, a strong jaw, and straight nose. As I get to know him, I can’t even find fault with his personality. He’s quite funny, sweet, and intelligent. He’s the perfect man.
Just not perfect for me.
Not that it matters.
As he tells me about the charity work he’s been doing recently in Pakistan, I start to wonder whether the problem is me. I mean, it has to be. Or not me, per se, but what I’ve done.
A prickle of guilt twists in my gut as I pick up my glass of sauvignon blanc and take a sip, my engagement ring catching the light. As far as I know, there were no specifics in the contract drawn up when we were kids. I’ve never had a boyfriend because I’ve known since I was old enough to be interested in boys that my husband had already been picked out. But no one ever told me I couldn’t fool around with anyone.
Although, it’s not like I asked. I mean, how would you even start that conversation?
“Hi, Mom, Dad. You know how you promised me to a stranger? Am I allowed to sleep with other guys until I have to marry him?”
Nope . Screw that.
I eye Louis over the rim of my glass. There’s no way he’s a virgin. Surely, he’s not expecting me to be. I mean . . . it’s not like they’d check. Right? I push the thought away as soon as it manifests. This isn’t sixteenth century Europe for fuck’s sake.
Avoiding Zak since that night has been exhausting. I’ve had to stay behind after my classes, waiting until he’s no longer lingering outside, or taking the back exit and walking through the parking lot instead of the common. It all feels very childish, but it’s still better than the alternative. I can’t see him. That moment of weakness has flipped my world on its head, and I need to get things right again. Not to mention all the shit that’s been going down at the Hive.
I take another long sip of wine. More of Sasha’s diary got posted online and it turns out she’s been lying to us since the first week of college. With everything else that’s going on, I don’t even know how to begin processing the idea of losing one of my best friends. I wanted to go out with a bang this year but I didn’t count on that bang being everything I’ve ever known exploding around me.
At least my internship at KBCX is going well. I rarely see Brad, and the other intern tends to stay out of my way. It’s busy, and involves a lot of grunt work, which I was expecting, but I’m getting to see how the station is run and that experience is invaluable.
“Is that all right?”
I blink, my skin heating as I realize Louis asked me a question and I haven’t got a clue what he said. “I’m sorry. I was still thinking about those poor families in Balochistan.”
“Understandable.” Louis gives me a sad smile. “I was just asking whether it’s okay if my lawyer drops something off for you to take a look at.”
“Lawyer?” My heart speeds. “Sure. What kind of thing?”
Louis motions to someone behind me, and I turn to find a woman walking toward us, a file in her hands and a tight smile on her face. Her heels echo on the marble floor as she crosses the room, her ash blonde hair bouncing on the shoulders of her expensive pant suit.
“Good afternoon, Mr. Chevalier. Miss Smith.” She hands the file to Louis, who takes it with a warm smile.
“Thank you, Maddison. That’ll be all.”
Maddison turns and strides away, leaving me wondering what the hell is in the beige file Louis has started leafing through.
“It’s all fairly standard,” he says, pulling out a sheath of papers and handing them to me.
I push my abandoned salad to the side and waiters immediately swoop down and remove our plates, giving me room to spread out the mysterious papers.
Although, they don’t remain a mystery for very long.
“A prenup?” I ask, my eyes widening in disbelief as I scan the first page. “You can’t be serious?”
Louis eyebrows rise, and he leans back, resting an ankle against his knee as he sips his wine. “I’m not sure why you’re surprised. Prenuptial agreements are commonplace when you have as much money as our families do.”
“Exactly,” I say, still shaking my head. “I’m worth more than you, so surely it should be me asking you to sign.”
Louis stares at me for a moment as though figuring something out and I force myself to meet his gaze.
“Your father’s lawyer worked with Maddison on this. The agreement keeps both parties safe.”
My heart sinks. Of course, my dad is part of this. My already molten skin heats further as Louis’ eyes soften with what had better not be fucking pity.
“I assumed he’d spoken with you,” Louis says gently.
There’s nothing to say. It’s clear that he didn’t. So, I just keep my eyes down and concentrate on reading the document. It’s complicated as hell, which is not surprising, because this whole deal is a shit show.
Both my dad and Louis’ want to ensure that their respective money stays in the family, all while getting even richer. Which means, the hypothetical child that Louis and I haven’t had yet, is mentioned throughout the entire contract.
I’m glad I didn’t do more than pick at my salad, because by the time I’m ten pages in, I’m ready to hurl.
“May I take this and read over it with my own lawyer?” I ask, finally looking up to find Louis on his phone, his brow furrowed.
He puts the phone down and smiles. “Of course. There’s plenty of time before the wedding.”
My blood runs cold. “Excuse me?”
“The wedding,” Louis repeats, his eyes narrowing. “, I don’t mean to sound rude, but you understand we’re getting married, don’t you?”
“Of course,” I say, shuffling the papers and slotting them back into the folder. “It’s just the way you said it, it sounded like a date had been set.”
Louis stares at me for long enough that I shift uncomfortably on my chair. The sinking feeling in my gut tells me I already know what’s coming before he opens his mouth.
“The date has been set for December twentieth next year.” Louis scratches his jaw, looking more uncomfortable than I’ve seen him. “Please tell me your parents consulted you on this.”
I push back my chair and stand. “I’m sorry, Louis. Lunch has been lovely. However, I have a few matters to take care of at home.”
He exhales softly and moves around the table. My eyes burn and I’m not sure how much is anger and how much is sheer mortification that the virtual stranger standing in front of me knows more about my future—my life—than I do.
“,” he says, taking my hands. “I’m so sorry. I had no idea.”
I huff a laugh. “No. I’m the one who has no idea.”
“Speak to your parents, but please know that throughout this, I’m on your side.”
His words cause me to look up at him, and the sincerity in his gaze causes me to pause. He tugs at my hands gently and leans forward, pressing a soft kiss to my temple.
“This might be a deal thought up by our parents, but we’re the ones getting married. You’re going to be my wife, . I meant what I said when I gave you that ring. Please know that I will always put you first.”
Staring into his sky-blue eyes, I swallow. “Thank you.”
“There’s no need to thank me for doing what I should.” He brushes his thumbs over the tops of my hands, squeezing once more before letting go. “I’m going with your father to Hong Kong tomorrow, but I’ll be back next month. I hope I can see you then.”
I nod, still reeling from the revelations of the last few minutes. It’s not surprising I didn’t know Dad was heading back to Hong Kong tomorrow. He’s never included me in any details regarding his business before, so it’s not like I’m expecting him to start now.
The journey back down to the ground floor is a blur, spent lost in my own thoughts. Part of me is outraged that so much has been decided behind my back, but another, larger, part isn’t the least bit surprised.
When we reach the valet, Louis turns to me and takes my hand once more. “I meant what I said. I know this might not be conventional, but I honestly believe we could make each other very happy.”
I give him a weak smile, saved from giving a response by the valet pulling up with the BMW 8 I’ve borrowed from my parents’ garage. “I guess I’ll see you next month.”
Louis smiles warmly, closing my car door and waiting until I lower the window before replying, “I look forward to it.”
I’m barely a block away before I dial my mom’s number through the Bluetooth. It rings for so long, I’m on the verge of hanging up when it finally connects.
“Hello?”
“Mom?” I grip the steering wheel, all the rage I felt during dinner rising to the surface again. I don’t want to do this over the phone, though. “Are you at home?”
“No, darling. We’re at the airport. Is everything okay?”
My eyes narrow as I mentally flick through our conversations, trying to recall any mention of travel, but coming up blank. “Why are you at the airport?”
“Your father has a meeting in New York, so I thought I’d join him for some shopping. He’ll leave from there for Hong Kong tomorrow morning, but I’ll stay a few days.” She pauses, as if remembering that I never call her. “Is everything okay, ?”
I almost hang up. What’s the point? I’m starting to think my mom has the emotional intelligence of a slug. How have I never noticed before?
“?”
Taking a shaky breath, I decide to at least try to get some of the answers I’d hoped for. “I just had dinner with Louis. He showed me the prenup Dad’s lawyer helped draw up.”
“Oh, good.” Mom pauses, speaking to someone in the background, and I grip the steering wheel tighter. “I hope you signed it.”
“I did not.”
Silence fills the line for a moment. “Why not?”
“Because I didn’t get a say in signing my life away, so I’m sure as hell going to make sure I read the contract.”
She tuts, my attitude clearly not acceptable to her. Her airs and graces bug me sometimes. Mom’s not old money like Dad. Her father worked his way up from practically nothing to get to where he is now. And there might not be any proof that I’ve found, but if Grandpa’s thick Texan accent is anything to go by, Mom hasn’t always been so soft spoken.
“,” she says, her voice warning. “I hope you were nice to Louis.”
A laugh bursts from between my pursed lips. “Of course, I was. Louis isn’t the problem.”
“I hope you’re not insinuating what I think you are?”
My heart is racing, and as I change lanes, almost clipping a white Tesla, I’m reminded why I didn’t want to do this while driving. “I don’t know, Mom. What do you think I’m insinuating?”
“, I’m not going to play these childish games with you.”
My finger lifts to press the button to end the call, but Mom’s tired sigh causes me to pause.
“You know, sweetheart,” she says quietly. “My wedding to your father was strategic. Not quite in the way yours is, in that we met as adults, but believe me when I tell you I know how you’re feeling.”
Silence fills the car as I let her words settle. They don’t bring me the comfort I think she hopes they will.
“I love your father,” she continues. “Marrying him was the best thing I ever did, and not just because it gave me you. You’ll learn to love Louis, and I really think you’ll be happy with him.”
I nod, even though she can’t see me, and exhale with resigned acceptance. “I hope so, Mom.”
After wishing her a safe flight, I hang up, feeling more miserable than I’ve felt in a long time.