Page 5 of Stolen Kiss

For sure, it’ll take me some time to get caught up and even then…

I can’t do this.

I simply can’t stoop to this level.

But I can and I do.

I press the green, highlighted link and wait for the profile to load.

According to the chart, if we get married by this date, I can have the funds deposited in time to pay my car payment. Hell, I can pay it off if I want to.

If this is so easy, why aren’t more people doing it? Maybe they are and I just don’t know it. I find it strange that I’m twenty-five and this is the first I’ve heard of it, but I’ve also lived a, we’ll just say, sheltered life.

As for Mariah’s aunt, it just does to show you never really know a person. How she managed to pull off a business like this is definitely a mystery to me.

Jeremiah

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“Right on time,” Gary Rawlston stands up and walks around his desk.

“Gentlemen.” I quickly button my jacket before extending my hand to Gary then Todd, who happens to be leaning against the edge of his brother’s desk. I don’t make a habit of coming into Gary’s office, but man, this place is nice. “Is that new?” I ask, pointing to a framed portrait hanging on the wall next to the wet bar.

“My wife painted it,” he says, his face lighting up with delight. “Isn’t it gorgeous.”

“I had no idea she was an artist.” Maybe it’s me being nervous, but I feel like he placed extra emphasis when he mentioned the work belonged to his wife.

“She has several paintings on exhibit at the Art Center. If you’re in the market for a few prints, they’re having an auction this weekend. You should check it out.”

“I’ll check my schedule. I’ve got a blank wall at home that could use a nice piece.” Jim did his best to prep me for this interview, and regardless of the questions he tossed at me this week, I don’t feel any more confident than I did when I first came on board here.

“Shall we get this interview underway?” Todd Rawlston suggests and uses his foot to turn the empty chair around so that he’s directly across from me.

“Relax,” his brother says, stepping from behind his desk to squeeze the top of my shoulder.

That’s easy for them to say. They’re not the one about to make a life-altering decision. And I’m not referring to the job I’m hoping to snag.

After a half hour of roughly talking bull-shit—hardly anything related to Jim’s CFO position—I sit upright in the chair. This hasn’t been so bad after all.

“So, how do you feel about the amount of hours the job would require?” Todd folds his hands together and places them against his abdomen.

I feel the coloring slowly drain from my face. Here we go…

“I’m actually okay with that.”

“You’re wife—you are married, right?” Gary chimes in. “She wouldn’t have a problem with it should you have to work beyond normal business hours?”

These two are slick. Human Resources would have a field day if they knew a question like this had been slipped into the interview. Informal or not, it’s none of their business. I play their game, though.

“I’m actually not married…yet.” It feels super awkward pretending that I’m seeing someone, much less engaged. I’m about as honest as they come and this is so wrong on so many levels. There’s a special place for liars and I don’t even want to think about the consequences.

Why?

Why does it matter if I’m seeing anyone?

My personal life has absolutely nothing to do with my work performance or what I’m capable of doing when I’m behind my desk. How did I not know this when I first came on board?

“Engaged?” Gary wrinkles his forehead.

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