Page 44 of The Arrangement
You could help me…
My breathing becomes ragged as I seriously consider the thoughts running through my head. I’m thinking under duress, and I know that. But it also seems like it might work.
I need money.
Jason wants to help.
I’m under no illusion that this will result in a fairy-tale ending—neither of us wants to be married—so what can it hurt? I’ll happily sign whatever pre-nuptial agreement Jason wants to guarantee that I won’t ask for more than half the winnings.
Jason gets to beat Tate. I get to keep Mimi from a nursing home and myself from living in my car.
I gulp as my body temperature rises.
And, if we’re married, would it be all that wrong to fuck my husband?
I look up at Jason and find his eyes heated.
Six months. It’s only six months.
Oh my God. Am I crazy?
My chest aches from the stress, but my heart races because there’s hope. And if I’m anything, I’m hopeful.
Screw it. Desperate times call for desperate measures.
“Tate, I have bad news,” I say, grinning. “You’re about to lose that bet.”
Jason is puzzled. Tate flinches.
“What are you talking about?” Tate asks.
I take a deep breath and turn to Jason. “We’re getting married.”
Chapter 11
Chloe
“What?” Tate and Jason say in unison.
They watch me with a mixture of amusement and confusion. When I fail to laugh or crack a joke—and probably from the determined yet frenzied look in my eyes—their reactions shift.
Tate’s amusement grows. Jason’s confusion deepens.
My awareness of the situation heightens, and my hands begin to shake.
“I’m sorry,” Tate says, his words kissed with a laugh. “I thought you just said you were marrying Jason.”
It’s now or never.
I lift my chin. “Because I am.”
Tate nods, disbelief written all over his face.
“What are you talking about, Chloe?” Jason asks carefully.
“You’re marrying me.”
He’s as surprised as I am to hearthose wordscome frommy lipsin a sentenceabout us. But I’ve said them—they’re out in the world. And I can’t deny that, aside from the tightness in my chest from my nerves, this doesn’t feel like a bad idea. It’s a bit of a relief, really.
