37. Liz
Chapter Thirty-Seven
LIZ
I don’t want to sign this prenup. I really don’t.
But what’s the big deal? Kent’s right. We’re not actually engaged.
We’re not getting married. So, this prenup, in theory, is a non-issue.
But that’s only in theory. In reality, if I sign this, it feels like I’m signing something that says Kent and I can never be together. I cringe at the thought.
Why does it bother me so much? What’s happened to me?
After my engagement ended, I wanted nothing to do with men, relationships, or diamond rings. I resigned myself to dying alone, an old lady surrounded by my wine collection. But then Kent walked into that elevator with that freckle in his eye, the dimple in his chin, and that swoon-worthy smile.
That was the moment my mind shifted from—no way in hell to what’s the harm in a little fling? And that’s all it was supposed to be when I agreed to come to London and have a date with him. Then he made that proposal, and I thought, what’s the harm in a fake engagement when it means saving SOLIDS?
Now, I’ve gotten myself caught up in all of this.
And the worst part is that I’m starting to believe it myself.
I’m starting to fall for the idea of marrying Kent.
I’m starting to wonder if what Kate’s saying is true.
What if he’s the guy for me? More than anything, I’m starting to feel crazy because I hardly even know the guy.
Ugh, this is a disaster.
I scratch my signature on the page and say a little prayer that I’m doing the right thing. And maybe, just maybe, we’ll all get what we really want.
It’s time for Christmas dinner. We all take our seats around Mick’s grand formal dining table, beautifully set with fine china, shining silverware, and neatly pressed napkins.
Platters of steaming dishes line the table like rosemary potatoes, garlic green beans, and a crispy roast turkey.
Mick sits proudly at the head with Beau lovingly by his side.
Daddy Bonnaire looms at the other end of the table while I’m seated stiffly between Kent and Leo, with Dahlia across from us.
“Are you okay?” Leo asks, hushed in my ear.
“I’m fine. Why?”
Ding, ding, ding!
Mick taps a knife against his crystal glass, commanding everyone’s attention. Welcoming the opportunity to dodge any further questions from my brother, I turn to our host.
“Before we eat this lovely Christmas feast, I want to say a few words. First, I want to acknowledge how incredibly blessed I feel to have all of you at my home for Christmas. Just a few months ago, I was a very sad and very lonely man living in this big manor all by myself.”
Butler Earl, who’s also seated at the dining table as a guest, clears his throat.
“Okay, almost by myself.” Mick raises his glass to his dedicated butler.
“The point is I almost gave up on this house and what it could be. A home.” All of the other halves aww at his words, and he continues.
“I’d like to express my deep appreciation to my brother, Drew, and his lovely wife, Kate.
If it were not for your courage to give your hearts to one another, I would never have found the love of my life.
” Mick sends Beau an adoring gaze. “And Kent would never have found his.”
My stomach tightens at the mention of our “romance,” and now everyone’s eyes are on us.
I glance up at Kent, who offers a small smile.
But the looks on their faces, we’ve got them all fooled.
Everyone except for Leo and Dash, who both know the truth.
And perhaps Mr. Bonnaire, who just demanded I sign a prenup on Christmas day.
Mick raises his glass. “So may this be the beginning of many, many joyful holidays together as a family. I love you all. Cheers.”
“Cheers!” The group replies, each sipping from their respective glasses.
Kent is quiet throughout dinner. He’s not nearly as flirtatious and attentive as he’s been this last week. I speculate that the change in his behavior has more to do with Leo sitting beside me than anything else. But what if it’s not? What if Kent’s lost his nerve? Or worse, lost interest in me?
After dinner, everyone heads toward the lounge for cocktails, and I excuse myself to the bedroom, claiming the need for rest. I’m exhausted from walking on eggshells around Leo, Daddy Bonnaire, and pretty much everyone else too.
Just when I think I’m alone, I hear the old man’s voice. “Elizabeth, may I have a word?”
I turn to face him. His smile says it’s a friendly approach but there’s something in his eyes that feels hostile. Kent is out of sight and Leo seems to be lost in conversation with Dahlia, so I’m totally on my own with no reason to refuse his request. So I don’t.
He pulls me aside to one of the formal living rooms. “I see you’ve signed the prenuptial agreement.”
“Yes,” I say.
“I’m pleased. When you have as much wealth and prestige as Kent, you have to look out for those who aim to take advantage. You wouldn’t be taking advantage of him, now would you?”
Not any more than he’s taking advantage of me. For a moment, I’m relieved this pompous ass isn’t actually going to be my father-in-law. “Are you suggesting that I am?”
“I’m not suggesting anything. The facts are the facts.”
What is he talking about? I fold my arms across my chest with a wrinkled brow. “And to which facts are you referring?”
“You are the owner of an American clothing company named SOLIDS, correct?”
“Yes.” There’s a cold, sinking feeling in my gut. Where is this going?
“The same SOLIDS that is currently finalizing a deal with Bonnaire Capital?”
Oh, shit. He knows. Kent said he wouldn’t find out. Dammit! Does Kent know he knows? My hands begin to tremble. “Yes, but my business was in talks with Bonnaire Capital before I knew your son.”
“In talks, yes, but you didn’t actually move forward with my firm until after your Silicon Valley VC went down in flames, practically taking SOLIDS down with it.
From my understanding, it was pretty disastrous to your finances.
How convenient then that you and my son would connect so shortly after, only for you to broker a deal that was double your original proposal. ”
I swallow hard. How do I defend myself, my fake engagement, and Kent at the same time?
“I didn’t know Kent was a VC until after we met.
And he was the one who pursued me. You can ask him yourself.
Trust me, I’m not the one toying with your son.
” My voice grows firm. Dean Bonnaire is playing games just as much as we are.
Perhaps that’s where Kent learned it from.
Dean huffs a laugh. “I can see why he likes you. You’ve got that spunk. But what about you, Liz? Do you really love my son? Are you really prepared to be his wife and stand by him as a member of this family?”
I’m having one of those moments again where I’m lost in our lie. From where I’m standing, I can’t imagine anyone better than me for the role of his wife, and I passionately answer, “Yes, I am.”
“Good.” Dean’s expression softens for a second before that shark-eyed glare returns. “Then you won’t mind that I’m killing the deal with SOLIDS.”
“What?” I freeze, cheeks burning, heart racing. He can’t do that. Can he? Of course, he can. He’s the Chairman and CEO. His name’s on the damn building. He can do whatever he wants. Including shutting down my deal.
“Yes, in my opinion, it’s a conflict of interest. The board will certainly think so, and we wouldn’t want to raise any suspicions with the vote just two days away. You’ve already had enough bad press, am I right?”
“With all due respect, our engagement shouldn’t affect a business deal that was already in the works. That’s not fair to me.”
“Perhaps not, but once you and my son are married, he’ll get his full inheritance and your company’s money troubles won’t be an issue.”
But there is no wedding. And as much as I find myself falling for Kent and wanting to have a future with him, I can’t also fake marry him. That would be taking this whole thing way too far. But if I don’t, I could lose SOLIDS. Either way, I lose.
“My company can’t wait that long. You’re a businessman. I know you can understand that. You can’t just pull my deal like that.”
“Oh, but I can. And I have. It’s already done.” It sounds so final, and something tells me it is. How is it that I’m worse off than when I arrived in London?
“But what about my business? You’re just going to leave me in the dust?”
“Elizabeth, you’re about to become a Bonnaire. You’re wearing an extremely rare royal diamond. You’re hardly being left in the dust.”
“But—” I argue, but he quickly hushes me.
“No buts. It’s done. Now I’m going to join my family for a brandy. I hope you’ll join us too.” Mr. Scrooge Bonnaire turns on his heel and walks away with the last word. The door to my future closes with each passing step.
Fuming, I curl my fist. I’m not taking this lying down. I can’t afford to.