9 JANIE
JANIE
I startle at the knock, even though he told me he was coming. It feels earlier than eight-thirty to me. Probably because I couldn’t sleep.
Because this is insane.
And I’m not doing it. I can’t…Right?
Ugh, Janie, get a grip!
I open the door, “We need to get—oh.”
“Coffee?”
“Yeah. Thanks,” I say. He looks behind me and lifts his hands full of stuff. Namely coffee and some breakfast food that smells divine. I move back to let him in. I don’t have my heels on yet and he’s taller.
Bigger.
Smells very nice as he walks by. Some kind of sparkly fresh cologne that I shouldn’t even be noticing.
And he’s grinning. Of course. The charming billionaire coming to tempt me with a million dollars and something in a to-go bag that smells like heaven wrapped in butter. I inhale and exhale as I shut the door. I need to be strong and say no.
As Gran would say, Jesus, be a shield.
“Plain black with milk, right?” he asks, handing me the same options as yesterday morning.
“With half and half usually. I add sugar if I’m stressed. Sometimes I splurge and get heavy cream.”
“Heavy cream! Madness!” he teases.
“What’d you get? Some fancy concoction with fifteen syrups?”
“Same as you actually. But I always add sugar,” he says and he winks.
“We said no winking.”
He just stares at me, “You said no winking. I never agreed.”
“Looks like I’m going to need to chug this,” I snipe into my large paper cup.
“Nonsense. I come in peace. With pastries.”
I narrow my eyes at him and open the bag he offers. I feel him studying me. Like he’s memorizing my preferences? It makes me twitchy. So, like a child, I make a point to take out both a savory bacon thing and a sweet cinnamon roll thing.
“And?” I ask, looking at the other box he brought.
“A gift.”
“A what?” I choke on my danish. The box is rectangular and flat and looks way too much like a fancy necklace box.
“Gift is, uh, a bit of a stretch, actually,” he starts, seeming…off his game suddenly. “The contents are as expected, it’s the presentation I put some thought into.”
“Wha?” I ask, mouth full. He opens the box and pulls out a…document?
“The promised contract, m’lady,” he says as he hands it over, “but broken out into terms even a pretty twat like me can understand, divided by subject, et cetera.”
I open the spiral-bound book. It’ll lay flat for me to write notes in the margins. Nice.
“This is annotated with tabs,” I think aloud.
“You like?” he’s pleased again.
“I mean, it’s okay,” I rein in my awe. “Still a contract for a sham marriage that I’m not signing.”
He steps over to the little hotel room desk and sits, making himself at home.
“Come on, Janelle, let’s at least look over it.”
My head snaps up so quick I’m afraid I’ve prompted a migraine. “No one calls me that.”
“Why not? Janelle Rae Rollins. It’s a lovely name.”
“You ran a background check on me?” I realize, my heart pounding.
“As I said I would,” he chuckles, “and my P.I. warned me you might have had some financial trouble and may not, quote, love me for me.”
I freeze, “Financial trouble is…a bit of an understatement.”
“Your accounts were wiped out, I know. Saw your brother’s arrests, your Gran’s house. All he found was exactly what you told me,” I relax a tiny bit internally, still frozen externally, as he goes on. “I needed to know what the press would find, what they’d try to smear us with.”
“Smear you with,” I correct.
“Yes, me, you know, the love of your life?” he smiles. Why is he always smiling?
I shake my head, “No, gosh, I didn’t even think about the press. Yet another reason I’m not doing it.”
“You are, and we both know it,” he says, pointing at the file in my hands, “So, let’s dig in.
Covers the confidentiality, your one point three million dollars, US, in half after the first ninety days, another quarter after the first year, then the last payment after the remaining four.
But obviously as my wife you’ll have the Clark name and funds at your disposal as well as the payment. ”
I start scanning, even though I shouldn’t. It’ll just make this more real, more tempting. I mean, one million dollars?! Funds? The Clark name?!
The reading actually helps ground me. I read aloud, “Weekly public appearances between now and New Year's?”
I look up at him and he nods as he says, “Should be easy enough in your little hometown, right?”
“I guess.” I scan quickly until I find the interesting part.
I hear Benedict huff a laugh across from where I sit on the edge of the bed, as if he knows what I’m reading.
“Hold hands in public, like, all the time? Continually? And…” I keep reading, “Kissing with tongue for the press, you put in with tongue? ”
“You told me to be clear.”
“No tongue,” I counter.
“You think that’s how lovesick newlyweds kiss?”
I glare, “In public? Who’s going around making out while they walk down Main Street in a small town? Ew, get a room.”
He smolders, “If you think making out is unpleasant perhaps you’ve not been properly ki—”
“I meant doing it in public is unpleasant!”
“Fine,” he rolls his eyes. “Make a note. What else?”
I clear my throat and try to calm the capillaries in my face. “No sleeping with anyone for a year?”
“Not worth the risk of getting caught, I’m afraid,” I don’t look up, I just nod. But I know he’s grinning when he adds, “Think you can manage?”
Okay, well, I can certainly look up now! “Uh, excuse me, can you? Didn’t you say you almost died going a month?”
“No, that is not what I said.”
“Be serious, Benedict.”
“I am, Janelle.” I open my mouth to correct him but stop.
For the first time he looks a little uncomfortable, like he didn’t quite think this through.
He starts to ramble, “I mean…that part will be fine, yeah? Unpleasant, but fine. It’s only a year.
I’ll just…I’ll…take up…aggressive cardio.
Maybe boxing. Kickboxing.” I laugh at that, and he seems to relax a little.
“I guess I’ll get some classes for myself,” I mutter, acknowledging that he’s not the only one with needs.
After I say it, from the corner of my eye, I catch how his lips part.
I ignore that and go on, “It says it needs to appear as if we live together. So, we aren’t going to actually live together?
” I ask, my heart pounding. I hadn’t even thought about living arrangements.
His smirk is back as he says, “Well, we can add that if you’d—”
“No!” Whoops, that was loud. I calm myself. “No, I don’t want to live together, I just wonder how we pull that off?”
He stares off into space before answering, “I suppose I travel for work, yeah? I’ll need to purchase a house there but we don’t have to actually use it. I can stay in the city. There will be events at hotels, family things, we’ll have to share a room but we can just get the penthouse.”
“Right, the penthouse,” I snort.
He chuckles, “Or any large suite of your liking, unless you want to end up in a tiny room like this? I’m a gentleman, so you’ll get the bed, but I’d prefer at least a couch to the floor, if you please.”
“Fine. Appears like we live together. Got it.” I scan some more and ask, “We really can’t tell anyone at all?”
“Afraid not.”
“Could I just tell one person? And you tell one person? Won’t it give you heartburn to not be able to talk about this? To lie to everyone?” I rub at my chest, where I feel acid already bubbling under the surface.
He considers my request.
“It can’t be Skye or Samantha or any of—,” he says eventually.
“No, I agree,” I say quickly. My former best friend and all her family are too close to his family and to me.
It’s not as if I’m talking to her much these days.
Even if I was, she wouldn’t be my pick. She can keep a secret, but I wouldn’t want to put her in a position to have to lie to her own family.
“I have one childhood friend in Juniper Falls. Harper.”
He winces, “You sure you can trust her? Leaking a story like ours could be…very lucrative.”
“Positive.”
He inhales and then nods. “All right.”
“What about you? Won’t you need to tell someone? ”
I watch him consider my question, as if he’s flipping through his friends in his mind. Then his face pulls downward. “Can’t really trust any of the blokes I call friends.”
“Wait, seriously?”
He lifts a shoulder, “Well, as you know Dennis is married to Kat, Skye’s cousin.
So he’s out. Byron will get his twin spidey sense and text me randomly but he’s across the pond and way too close to our father.
Aiden maybe I could trust but I don’t see him much.
The rest…it’s not that they’d turn on me, it’s that they’ll get pissed at the pub and it’ll slip out, then the wrong person will probably overhear and so on. ”
I nod.
We sit in the quiet for a second, but a second might be too long for the peppy billionaire.
“Actually,” his tone is bright, “Nigel will pick up on it anyway. If I need to bang on about the ol’ ball and chain, I’ll complain to him.”
I dip my chin, “You’re joking now, but I can be a real bitch.”
He dips his chin right back, “You don’t say.”
I snort into my coffee.
“So, we’re doing this, then?” he says, watching me.
“What? No.” I snap out of it, realizing I’ve just been talking and negotiating like I am doing this.
“Name your price.”
I choke, “W-what?”
“You heard me. We’re negotiating.”
“Benedict, no! It’s not about the money.”
He scoffs, “Everything is about money.”
“According to you.”
“According to my experiences,” he says, not bothered at all by my accusing tone. “You have reservations, let me add enough zeros that the reservations go away.”
“Do you realize how you sound?”
He looks at the ceiling and sighs, “Are you going to call me gross again?”
“I mean…” I take a deep breath and sigh as well, “Sorry. I’m not trying to be intentionally rude, I just don’t get it. We swiped through so many women who would love this. The glitz, the money. Like, not to be that girl who asks this, but, why me?”
“Your charming disposition,” he deadpans back. I start to groan but he straightens. “Because you’re honest. You’re strong enough to ignore the press. You know my world well enough, you’ll keep me in line and most of all, you actually need the money, Janelle.”
I stand and my voice rises with me, “Ugh, will you stop calling me that?”
“No.”
“I’m adding it to the contract.”
At that, he laughs. “Fine. Add it in. What else do you want to add?”
I put a hand on my hip and see how far he’s willing to go, “One night out every week is too much.”
“Fine, half the outings can be during the day. What else?”
I think through the reality of my situation. Gran’s decaying house. I haven’t itemized the expenses yet but it probably has mold, asbestos. Remaining legal fees and…my mess. What his investigator would’ve found if he dug deeper.
“Two million and I need some right now up front.” I quickly add a white lie, “to get started on Gran’s place.”
“Done.”
“Shit. Should’ve gone for three.”
He laughs again, “Yes, you should have.”
“Okay,” I say quickly.
“Three million?”
“No, sorry, I was just—”
“Fine, three it is,” he says casually while looking at his giant, fancy watch. “Look, I’ve got to spend the day with Father Dearest. I’ll send the digital file over just now, you send it to your lawyer today, okay?”
“Okay.”
“I’m going to mention you to Dad and Byron today. Tell them I’m falling in love or whatever people say. How’d your texting go, by the way?”
“Oh,” I almost chuckle, “Surprisingly well. This might be easier than I thought, at least until we have to see Skye in person.”
“Same for me. Samantha has dubbed us ‘Banie.’”
I grin, “We knew that was coming.”
“We should…” he looks me up and down, slowly. I try not to react. “D’you have a robe?”
“Yes?” I frown at him.
“Put it on so you can’t see your clothes,” he says. I make quick work of retrieving the white fluffy hotel robe from the bathroom and putting it on.
“Good. Quick selfie and I’ll be off until this afternoon.”
“We’re not schmoozing today?” I ask, following him over to my room’s single corner window.
“ We are not.” He waits until I stand beside him and extends his phone out to take the photo. “You’ve got a date with the Amish wives.” I can’t help but smirk at that and he catches it. “Aha! There’s some enthusiasm.”
I roll my eyes, still smiling about my day in bed, which he captures, tapping away in his camera app.
I start to actually pose but he locks a hand on my hip and pulls me into him.
It’s intimate, possessive, without escape.
And so sure. Zero hesitation, like he knew exactly how to hold me.
Like I’ve been tucked into his side a thousand times before.
It shocks me, so when my hands collide with the side of his chest, I’m looking up at him instead of at the camera. He snaps that moment as well.
He releases me but quickly commands, “Look out the window.”
I’m in such a tingly, shocked haze I just obey. I don’t even huff in protest or roll my eyes.
“There,” I hear his phone’s camera sound one last time. “ That is another reason I'm choosing you.”
“What?” I turn to ask.
He’s looking down at the image and backing away as he answers softly, “You’re just so unbelievably gorgeous.
” I open my mouth to tell him not to say things like that but he turns his back to me and calls over his shoulder, “Be quick about the contract! We’ve got to have it buttoned up so we can get married tomorrow. ”
Then he’s gone.
And…
How long have I been staring at the door?
Why have I been staring at the door in some kind of trance?
And what did he say?
Did he say tomorrow?!