Page 8 of An Engagement Pact

“Hey, Vicky,” he says with his typical leisurely charm. “Thanks for coming.”

“Of course.” I glance over toward his friends, who are all openly staring at us. Surely he’s not going to want to have this discussion in front of them.

“I was just killing time over there. We can get our own table.” He has obviously read my mind. “Let’s order first.”

I always get hit with this weird pressure about giving my order without knowing what others are getting. I don’t know why. Surely it doesn’t matter if I choose differently than them. But I often find myself freezing up whenever I’m asked out of the blue.

As we wait in line behind the family in front of us, I stare up at the chalked menu on the wall behind the counter, and my mind spins frantically, trying to land on something appropriate. Dan drinks black coffee in the mornings. Is that what he gets in the evenings as well? Is that what I should get too?

I’m convinced none of my inner turmoil reflects on my face—I’m really good at hiding it—but after a minute Dan says lightly, “The chai lattes are really good here. Or, if you like the fancy sweet drinks, they’ve got this caramel-mocha blended thing that’s like about five desserts in one.”

I giggle, ostensibly at his words but mostly in relief. “Chai latte sounds good. I do like sweets, but that might do me in right now.”

I reach for my wallet automatically as we approach the counter, but he orders both our chai lattes and pays before I can even make a gesture.

The guy behind the counter has longish light brown hair, heavy-lidded eyes, and the relaxed, unfocused expression of a surfer or a stoner. I’ve seen him working in this coffee shop a lot and always thought he was cute and unlike anyone else I’ve met in this town.

“Vicky, this is Chase,” Dan says, gesturing across the counter as he gives the introduction. “He’s not as half-asleep as he looks.”

The guy huffs at Dan and then gives me an endearing smile. “Nice to meet you, Vicky. Are you sure you want to be hanging out with this one? You look like you can do a lot better.”

I laugh at his teasing words, and Dan pretends to grumble. Chase says our drinks will be ready soon, so I follow Dan to a table in the far corner of the room.

“So,” Dan says, leaning back in his seat, his eyes resting on my face with a gaze that’s laid-back on the surface but feels like so much more than that underneath.

“So,” I repeat. I have no idea how to start this conversation. What is a girl supposed to say in this situation?Do you still want to pay me a hundred thousand dollars to marry you?

“So you might be interested in my offer?” he asks softly.

I clear my throat. “Uh, yeah. I think so. If we can come to a good deal. I mean, I’m happy to discuss it.”

Before Dan can respond, Chase walks over to our table, bringing our drinks. He gives me a wink as he sets mine down that makes me smile.

“He and Paige are together,” Dan says when Chase has returned behind the counter.

“What?” My eyes widen. I’m surprised by the shift in conversation.

“Chase. And Paige. They’re dating. Seriously. They’re together.”

“Oh.” I frown, still confused. I’m pretty sure Paige is the dark-haired woman working on a laptop at the table Dan was sitting at earlier, but I have no idea why he’s offering this information like it’s significant. “Okay. Well, that’s good for them, I guess.”

Dan seems momentarily distracted for no good reason, but he soon shakes it off and returns to our earlier conversation. “So you want to make a good deal.”

I blink, realizing what I said and how it might have sounded. “I didn’t mean I want more money. What you’ve offered is great. I meant if we can get the details worked out in a way that’s... that’s comfortable for both of us.”

“Of course. How about I tell you what I need, and then you can tell me if that works for you and what you’ll need in return?”

I nod, relieved he’s taking the initiative. Rick always expected me to take the lead in conversation and decision-making and organizing finances and pretty much everything else. It was always so exhausting.

“Okay then. I’m dealing with this ridiculous stipulation in the trust fund from my grandparents. I get access to it when I turn thirty-five or when I get married—whichever comes first.”

“Were you wild when you were younger?” I ask, genuinely curious. “Is that why they didn’t trust you to make good use of the money?”

He shrugs. “I don’t think I was that bad. I did indulge in some underage drinking and smoked the occasional joint, but I never got arrested or went crazy with money or did anything too off the rails. I went to college and got a master’s right afterward and then immediately got a job, so they couldn’t have been disappointed in my career track. I think they just thought it was a good idea for me to marry instead of playing the field for too long and it would make me grow up quickly or something.”

“Okay. People in Green Valley are kind of weird, aren’t they?”

Dan lets out a breathy laugh. “They definitely are. So anyway, there’s no requirement about the length of the marriage, so as soon as we have the marriage certificate, I think I can go to the trustee and start the proceedings. The only thing I’m worried about is that he believes the marriage is real. If he thinks it’s just on paper, he can dig in his heels since the decision is up to him. So we’ll just have to make the act convincing. He has no idea if or who I’ve been dating, so I figured we could get engaged fairly soon. Then be engaged for a couple of months and then get married. That should be enough to convey a real if slightly rushed marriage.”

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