“Cole, listen to what you’re asking of me? You’re asking me to stay married to you, to lie and scheme. I don’t even know you.” She declares, pacing again. I grab hold of her arm and draw her toward me.
“I’ll pay you.” I blurt out.
Shayla’s green eyes grow wide, and if looks could kill, I’d be dead and buried right about now. “You’ll what?” She grits annoyance evident in her tone. “If you think just because I slept with you, I now owe you something; you’re sorely mistaken. Screw you and your job, you arrogant pig.” She hisses vehemently and rips her arm from my hold.
“No! Christ, Shayla, it's not like that. Think of it as a business arrangement. Name your price; money is no object.” Shayla steps back with an appalled look on her face. A glimpse of hurt flickers in her eyes before it's replaced with anger again.
“Who the hell do you think you are?! I’m sorry to disappoint you, Mr Hoult, but I am not for sale! Your money can get you a lot, it seems, but not me.” She tries to sidestep me, but I block her path. “Get out of my way.” She spits furiously.
“Jesus, Shayla, please just listen to me. I’m not trying to buy you, and the last thing I’d ever want to do is insult you.” I explain and sigh dejectedly. “I wouldn’t ask if I wasn’t desperate. You’re my only hope out of this arranged marriage.” I say pleadingly, and she licks her lips and brushes her fingers through her hair, still fuming. “I know you need the money. You’ve got outstanding debts on your student loans.” She spins and glares at me. “It came up in your background check. You can pay those off and finish your degree. Let me help you.”
“I don’t want your help! There are a million girls out there who would marry you without a second thought, so go pick one of them.” She claims while snatching up her blazer and purse.
“I don’t want them.” Shayla rolls her eyes and tries to push past me to leave, but I stop her. “I trust you.” She lifts her gaze slowly, and our eyes meet.
“Tristan?” We both jump apart when I hear my name. I turn and see my Dad standing there. Fuck.
“Dad?”
“What is going on here?” He questions, looking between Shayla and me sceptically. “What's with all the shouting?” Shayla looks at me and straightens her skirt. “What are you both doing here?” I look over at Shayla, and I’m not sure what came over me, but I wrap an arm around her waist and pull her up against me.
“Dad, I’d like you to officially meet my wife…Shayla.”