Page 112 of Morally Black Betrothal
“It’s just for a few months. The engagement. It’s a professional situation to curry the board’s favor. Simone is just helping me out.”
He searched me for a few moments. Then, to my surprise, let out a sigh. “Thank fucking God.”
I frowned. “You don’t have to look so relieved. She’s a good girl.”
“It just means you’re not crazy. Why do you have to pretend to get married, though?”
I rubbed my face. “I want to show the old man that I can commit. He, uh…expressed some doubt about that. That the board had some doubts too. So, I made a business deal to address the issue, and?—”
“Now you’ll get CEO when he retires. I see.” Owen nodded slowly, pursing his lips, then mimed zipping his lips shut. “To the grave, brother. I promise.”
I eyed, trying to assess whether or not he was telling the truth.
But in the end, I’d made the choice for myself. Owen could be an ally now if I played my cards right, and I was starting to feel like I needed one. Someone to yank me back to reality. Remind me why I was doing this in the first place.
“Just be nice to her,” I said finally. “Or as nice as you’re capable of. She’s only doing this to save her dad’s farm and probably a bunch of other people I don’t even know about. She’s not like us, Owen. She’s a good person who doesn’t deserve our poison.”
Owen gave me another long look. I looked back, and this time I didn’t have an issue with any part of what I was saying.
Explaining myself, pretending to be a good guy, acting like I was the kind of man who could actually fall in love? That was difficult. But defending Simone came easily. I had no problem with that.
“Understood.” He gave a curt nod, then backed into the hall. “But, Brendan?”
I finished putting on my coat. “Yeah?”
“I hope you know what you’re doing. Because if you don’t, I’m the next one in line to take your place. And once I’m there, I won’t step aside.”
26
NOBODY’S CHARITY CASE
Simone
Brendan’s driver whisked us away from Brookline, and if I was being honest, he couldn’t go fast enough.
My stomach gave a low rumble, but I ignored it. So much for dinner. Not that it mattered, since any appetite that had managed to survive through my nerves had vanished when I overheard Brendan’s brothers’ vicious remarks.
They echoed like a refrain in my mind as we turned onto Boylston, which would take us back to the Martin. It said something about his father’s estate that now I found the penthouse almost homey in comparison.
When I’d first arrived, I’d been in awe of the colonial mansion, the enormous grounds guarded by a curling wrought-iron entry, the circular drive lit by lanterns, and the brick facade of the mansion that might have played host to some of the nation’s founding fathers.
I was no stranger to New England’s historical buildings, but even that had impressed me.
But the delicate plasterwork and Doric columns were now a shadow compared to my memories of the horrible conversation I’d overheard as the family butler escorted me down the hall.
I’d been so proud too. Thought I’d succeeded, given the missteps of the day. I’d found this dress at a designer vintage consignment shop in Cambridge—one of those places that specialized more in fashion history than in good deals. I’d never been able to afford anything in there before, but today they’d welcomed me, my torn jeans, and Brendan’s credit card with open arms.
The owner had helped me find a gorgeous shift dress in black silk with an embroidered chinoiserie pattern. It was even designed by Apollo, one of the flagship designers owned by Savage York (and acquired by Blackguard Holding when it was first starting to grow)—or so Wikipedia had informed me.
I had a blowout and makeup done at a nearby salon while I watched YouTube videos on place settings. I was running only fifteen minutes late and feeling, if not confident, then at least reasonably prepared by the time I’d arrived in Brookline.
Until the voices of Brendan’s brothers had chopped that expectation down to the ground.
Every fear I had was confirmed in less than thirty seconds.
I didn’t fit into Brendan’s world. I couldn’t even make it more than five minutes in his family’s house.
And maybe I never would.
