Page 21 of One Wealthy Wedding

Based on the years of him avoiding me and the look of disdain on his face, I’m going to guess no.

“Just a kiss,” he snorts. “Okay.”

I smile to myself.

“What’s that look for?”

“Oh, just enjoying your discomfort,” I say mildly. “It was just a kiss, Theo. We’ve kissed before. It was fine. Now we’ve moved on.” And I hope like hell I don’t have to kiss you anymore, because I might not survive it.

He looks homicidal for a moment, and I want to laugh, but I settle for rolling my lips between my teeth and looking out the window.

“I think we need to set some ground rules. For the house, and events and things,” he says.

“Rules?” Theo isn’t a rules kind of guy. He’s more of a throw out the rulebook and steal something while you’re at it kind of guy.

“Rules,” he growls. “Are you always this difficult?”

“Only for you,” I say sweetly, but I pull one of my school notebooks out of my purse. “I guess let’s start with the obvious. What do you need from me?”

“I’ll need you to be available every night. For events. Charity balls, dinners with potential investors, that sort of thing.”

I can’t do that. I have work three days a week, but I don’t get the weekend shifts because the more senior bartenders want the money. “I can be free Thursday through Sunday night.”

“Thanks for making time in your schedule,” he drawls. “I need more than that.”

“I have work.”

“I’ll give you the money. You don’t need to work.”

I grind my teeth. So it’s begun. Money is control, and I intend for Theo to have none of it.

“I like my job.” A half-truth. I like Blair and I like money. I do not like being hit on and smelling like beer and working primarily for wrinkled ones and fives.

He heaves a sigh, like I’m the most difficult woman in the world, and I decide it’s a title I now aspire to. At least with him.

“We’ll have a few trips too. There’s a black-tie event coming up.” He names a charity that my parents are involved in. Something tepid, for rich people to donate to without ever taking a stand or ruffling feathers. “We’ll need to go. Lorenzo, the joint venture partner we’re courting, will be there.”

“That might be a problem,” I say. “I didn’t take any fancy dresses when I left Rockwood. I can wear the one I have on today, but it won’t be fancy enough.” I look down at my hands and avoid his gaze. The polish is already chipping. I should take it off. My hand-eye coordination is shit, and really, doing your own nails is never as good as having them done.

“Why not?” he asks, like my lack of wardrobe is a personal inconvenience to him.

I look out the window. “Just didn’t think to take any,” I say lightly. “I only had two suitcases.” Far better than the truth—I was given twenty minutes to get the fuck out or be thrown out.

Theo’s looking at me like I’m a puzzle he wants to solve.

I tap my pen against the paper. “All right. Number one,” I say as I write. “Thursday through Sunday events. Business trips. I’ll need a week’s notice for those.”

“Add a few poker nights on to that. With the Royals. And I’ll have friends over.”

“And I’ll need to play hostess?” I look at him skeptically. I was raised for this, but it doesn’t strike me as something Theo would want. He’s not traditional like that.

“No,” he snorts. “I’m not your father. I’ll want you there to make the relationship look real.”

“Fine.” I write it down. “We need a marriage announcement.”

He dips his chin. “I’ll have one prepared by our PR firm.”

“Good. That’s good,” I say without really meaning it. My pulse is pounding in my ears. A wedding announcement makes this all too real. That’s good. Because real means my father won’t be at my door. Real signals to him and his business partners that I’m on my way, and they should be scared. I’m not going down without a fight. I inhale a shaky breath and write down the most important requirement. Number two: Don’t catch feelings. This is a business arrangement.

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