Page 22 of Married With Lies

“What did he do to you, this Grant character?” I’m asking because I’m curious after the way she trembled at the sight of him.

And because if the answer is heinous then I plan to do something about it.

But Sadie clams up. “Never mind about him. Won’t your uncle be furious if you refuse to go through with the marriage arrangement?”

“I’ve thought about that. He might be angry if I refused outright. He’d try to convince me that it’s in my best interests to concede. But if I were to fall suddenly and deeply in love and simply had to marry the woman of my dreams then he wouldn’t object. Especially if my new wife just happens to be the daughter of an important New York family with all kinds of useful political ties. To be honest, he’ll be popping the damn champagne bottle.”

“Political ties,” she echoes. “Baylor will be outraged, especially now that he’s running for office.”

“Hell yeah, I imagine he’ll hit the fucking ceiling. Just another cherry on top.”

“I have no desire to infuriate my brother.”

“He’ll recover. By the way, when was the last time Mr. Future Congressman did a single thing for you?”

She slumps and looks so miserable that for a second I’m truly sorry I asked the question.

“We don’t talk much anymore,” she finally says. “He’s not who he used to be. But I guess you knew that already.”

“Look, I don’t really give a shit about Baylor. I’m not doing this to piss him off but it is a bonus. This is a good deal, Sadie. A business arrangement. We’re the only ones who will know that our marriage is only on paper. You have your own life with your own goals. That’s what I like about you. All I want you to do is wear my ring, pretend to be a devoted wife and accept the very generous funds I’ll start sending you immediately. It’ll be your money to spend however you please.”

She stares at me in silence for a long time. Then she reaches out and pinches my forearm.

“What’s that for?”

“I wanted to make sure I wasn’t dreaming.”

“Then shouldn’t you pinch yourself?”

“I bruise easily.” She folds her arms and looks me up and down. “Am I the first girl you asked to be your fake wife?”

“The idea didn’t even occur to me until tonight.”

“And what will you do if I say no?”

“Then I’ll come up with another idea. But a better question is, what will you do if you say no?”

She winces and deflates. “I bought a lottery ticket.”

“A very sound financial strategy.”

“Maybe I’ll get a Christmas miracle.”

“And maybe the zombie apocalypse will begin before New Year’s. Since neither one of those things are likely to happen it’s probably a good idea to make other plans.”

“When would I have to do this whole thing where I marry you or whatever?”

“As soon as possible. We can fly to Vegas tomorrow and get the job done over the weekend.”

“Tomorrow,” she echoes. Then she smacks a hand to her forehead. “You can’t possibly be for real.”

“Give me your phone.”

She holds the thing to her breast, panic lighting her eyes. “Why?”

“Because I’m going to show you how serious I am.” I hold my hand out, waiting for her to arrive at the correct decision and hand it over.

After waffling for nearly a minute, she exhales noisily and deposits the thing into my palm with a bit of an attitude.

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