Page 11 of The Accidental Wife

“Yes, that’s her,” I say and read her text. Of course, she’s saying no. I text her back quickly, telling her I will pick her up at nine and that I wouldn’t take no for an answer.

“Why are you going to the lawyers with her?” Josh questions raising a curious brow at me. I was too distracted arguing with Shayla over text.

“Uh, to sign some papers for a divorce,” I answer distractedly with a shrug, and he kicks my knee. I scowl at him.

“Divorce?” He sits upright and stares at me in bewilderment, and I realise I just let our secret slip out. “When did you fucking marry her to get a divorce?!”

“When we flew to Vegas…” I trail off, and his eyes widen as he waits for me to continue explaining. I sigh, “This is all your fault. You forced me to go out and got me stinking drunk. After we left the club, we kept drinking and ended up on my private jet flying to Vegas to get married.”

“Holy— you got married? Like legally married?” Josh questions getting to his feet. He throws his head back and laughs when I nod.

“Yes, Josh. I’m legally married. And like that wasn’t bad enough, she shows up at my office as my new executive assistant. My Dad hired her while I was in Paris. What are the fucking odds of that, tell me, please?” Josh covers his mouth with his hand and shakes his head.

“Odds? Bro, this girl is either one psychotic stalker and planned this, or fate’s just dropped a motherload of an opportunity in your lap.” I watch Josh as he moves around the room.

“Josh, she didn’t even know who I was. And she tried to quit the moment she saw I was her boss. She’s not a stalker, and she certainly didn’t plan any of this.” I explain, running my fingers through my hair.

“Cole, are you an idiot, bro?” I scowl at him hard. “Do you not realise all your prayers have been answered. This whole Hollie debacle is solved.” I lean forward and rest my elbows on my knees and watch him closely.

“How so?”

“You’re married, you idiot!” He shouts, throwing his hands up in the air. “You can’t marry Hollie if you’re already married. Take Shayla to your grandfather, introduce her as your wife, problem solved.”

Oh. Why didn’t I think of this? I am married.

I frown. “You mean, we stay married?” Josh nods, widening his blue eyes. “She wouldn’t agree. Why would she want to stay married?”

Josh throws a cushion at me. “Because you’re Tristan Cole Hoult, that’s why. You’re the most sought-after bachelor in the country—after me, of course.” He says in jest, and I throw the cushion back at him.

I roll my eyes, exasperated. “Fuck you, arsehole.” Josh catches the cushion and rests his elbow on it, grinning. “She doesn’t care about any of that. She’s nothing like the rest; my fame and money didn’t deter her one bit.”

“Sound chick. Just tell her the truth, maybe you’ll appeal to her good nature, and she’ll pity you and agree to help. If that fails, offer her a pay-out, a couple of mill, like a bearding service.”

I rub my hands over my face with a heavy sigh. “That sounds rather crude.”

“Would you rather marry Hollie?” I shake my head and fall back against the sofa.

“Fuck no.” I curse, looking at the beer bottle in my hand. “At least Shayla’s fun to be around. I'd much rather be stuck married to her.”

“Just ask her.” He states, taking a swig of his beer. “Worse case, she’ll say no.”

“Oh, she will absolutely say no. She’s feisty and stubborn as hell.” I mutter, tapping the neck of the bottle thoughtfully. It can’t hurt to ask. Like Josh said, maybe she will feel sorry for me and help me. Perhaps I could give her a raise? And I’d prefer to be married to Shayla than Hollie. At least she’s amusing to be around. She cracks me up throughout the day.

“Feisty, huh?” Josh intones, raising his brows with intrigue. “Good in the sack?”

I bite my bottom lip, recalling our passionate night together. “Oh, definitely,” I murmur.

I sigh, feeling relieved. I hadn’t realised how much this marriage arrangement was weighing me down.

I leave Josh’s place and head home. I had a big day ahead of me the following day, and I needed to get my shit together before the presentation.

* * *

The next morning,I sat waiting for Shayla outside her apartment building. I’d been waiting fifteen minutes, and she’s yet to come down. Women. I will never understand why they take a year to get ready for everything. I honk my horn impatiently, just as she pushes the door open and walks toward the car. I let my eyes wander over as she approaches me. That tight, black pencil skirt and red satin blouse she’s wearing are hugging her in all the right places. Her dark tresses cascading down her back in beach waves, just like the night we met.

“Jesus, keep your hair on. You’ll wake the neighbours.” She grumbles, getting into the car. I’m not proud of this, but my eyes instantly drift to her skirt, which rides up to her mid-thigh when she sits, and I find myself checking out her shapely legs. I have a sudden flashback of our night together in Vegas, those legs wrapped around me as she drew me deeper into her.

“Cole.”

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