Page 12 of Valentine's Day Proposal

“To buy something fancy. Your normal stuff probably won’t do. Don’t spend more than say a grand or something. Nice formal dress with heels and jewels—the works. And schedule to get your hair done too. The dinner is this Saturday. Peter said green is a great color on you.”

“Peter said? What, you don’t know what colors look good on me?” I knew my tone was cold, but how was I supposed to feel? He was still draining out of me making a puddle where I was supposed to sleep, yet he had to give me another man’s opinion of my looks and a credit card to improve my wardrobe. I bit back the words I wanted to say and blinked back the fresh round of tears. “I’m not deleting the pictures.”

Charles stood, picking up his tie. “At least make your profile private. Okay?”

He hadn’t looked at me since he pulled out. He had turned his back on me and left me wondering if he’d just used my body to sate his lust, or if he felt the sparks fly that I had. I watched him walk out of the bedroom as I sat there in only my bra, and I cried again.

This time I cried because he wasn’t the man I remembered. The Charles I knew was tender and romantic. He’d have felt so ashamed of that behavior he would have groveled at my feet for days to make it right. Now he just walked out with his shoulders squared like it hadn’t happened.

I wanted to reach for my phone and text Mel. Tell her what happened and that I wanted to call it off. But I knew what that would do to her. I’d seen the way she got crushed by my confession. The only thing good to come out of this in her eyes was the cash, and I was in too deep to back out now. I lay down across the bed and hugged the extra pillow to my chest.

Life had dealt me a lot of tough blows but this one was the worst by far. And I’d brought it on myself by agreeing to play wife to the man who destroyed me. Six days in and I wanted to be done. Three-hundred and fifty-nine to go.

11

CHARLES

So far, the evening had gone off without a hitch. Introducing my new wife had been as awkward as I thought it would be. Having not had a huge public ceremony planned out far in advance meant proving my affection was true. That had come in the form of public displays of affection—which Willow seemed to disdain even more than me asking her to sleep on the couch—and recounting the totally bogus tale of how we broke up in college only to be reunited at a political rally last month.

I followed her around that dinner feeling like an ass for the way I’d treated her after sex the other night. It had happened so quickly; I didn’t think either of us knew what to do. She didn’t stop me, but she didn’t call out to me when I climbed off of her, ashamed and feeling like I had pressured her into that. She made it clear when signing the papers that it was a “no love” contract and I had crossed the line. And even worse, I felt things—strong things I couldn’t explain. So, when we were done, I shut down. Now, I wished I had said something, done something, because the way she looked at me tonight made me want her like that all over again.

Every time we were alone, Willow reminded me to keep my hand off her ass but fuck if I didn’t want to grab that ass all night, even when the cameras were off. The attention was exactly what we needed, just what Peter said would happen. It had been two weeks since the wedding and the polls were already changing. I was up across the board, and I was also having a difficult time not getting up.

Willow was ravishing. The gown she bought cut so low in the front I feared if she raised her arms her tits would pop out and the world would get a show. The diamond drop necklace nestled right into her cleavage, and the black, sparkly material shimmered at every turn, hugging her curves like an Indy car on the streets. It was difficult not to be aroused by that.

“Are you two having a good night?” Peter’s hushed tones as he shouldered in next to me meant something was wrong.

“Yeah, it’s a pretty good night. Why?” I kept my eyes up, my smile broad. Every now and then when someone looked up at me, it would catch my eye and I would wave, but my attention was fixed on Peter, and the way Willow clung to my side.

“Because if you’re having a good time, you usually smile.” Peter patted my stomach and I glanced at Willow, who seemed lost in her own world. I tugged at her side, jostling her, and she looked up at me, deep melancholy in her gaze.

Peter walked off and I was left to deal with her dragon-like attitude. “What is wrong? Why aren’t you smiling?” I tried to keep my face calm, happy even, but just looking at her tanking this dinner with a grimace on her face was upsetting.

“I am not cut out for this shit. I don’t want to be here anymore.” Willow sighed, then yawned, at least having the decency to cover her mouth. I noticed the fatigue in her eyes and the way the dark circles beneath them seemed more prominent. She was still ravishing, but obviously tired.

“Just a few more hours. Okay?”

“Hours?” She grunted and rolled her eyes. The act was immature, but I didn’t entirely disagree with the way she felt. I hated these functions as much as anyone else. A bunch of pomp and circumstance wrapped up in a bow and called necessary for the sake of the political race.

But while I could sympathize with her, it was my duty to make sure I was winning and thus she had a contractual obligation. “Just smile,” I told her out the side of my mouth. “I’ll buy you froyo or something.”

“Yay for indigestion.” She straightened and I could hear the sarcasm in her voice. When I looked at her, she had a look of renewed enthusiasm, a fake smile plastered to her pearly whites. “I’m so grateful you can treat me like I’m your child, bribing me with sweets.”

I saw motion out of the corner of my eye and Willow waved, a big goofy grin on her face. “Who’s that?” she asked, looking up at me. I leaned down and pecked her on the lips, a knee-jerk reaction after being forced to place a kiss on her lips every 10 minutes yesterday during our preparation meeting. Peter, literally set a clock with a timer to make sure it was every 10 minutes on the dot. He believed it would pay off and it had. Now it was unconscious to both of us. If only the smiles were just as unconscious.

“Hell, if I know. This fundraiser is for the entire party, not just for the state of Maryland. So, there are people here from all 50 states, or at least there should be.” I didn’t recognize the woman, but maybe she recognized me from somewhere. I waved at her as well, then turned toward the main hall where drinks were being served.

The party had rented out the entire convention center. The entire place was lit up like Christmas with string lights and golden and red decorations. Black tie wasn’t even the beginning of how to describe this. Women wore dresses that cost more than my fucking car, and they’d spared no expense on the food either. Catered by Pineapple and Pearls, the event was $1500 per plate just to attend, and there was no shortage of entertainment either.

“My feet hurt.” Willow limped along beside me, and part of me felt sorry for her. She probably had no clue what she was getting into when I gave her that card and told her to buy something nice.

“You should have bought sensible footwear.” I talked out the side of my mouth, keeping my tone low as I plucked two glasses of champagne off a passing tray. The waiter who carried it smiled and nodded. I thrust the drink into her hand, and she took it. “Drink more. You won’t feel your feet before too long.”

I tipped my drink up, slogging down the bitter alcohol, and when I turned my chin back down, my gut dropped. There only a few paces away, stood Irene Borchers—college best friend to Willow, and ex-girlfriend to yours truly. Only, Willow never knew I dated her. And I could live my whole life without her knowing that fact.

I tried to turn away, hastily maneuvering my body in hopes that Willow would not see her. I hadn’t expected her here. When we attended Harvard, Irene had been in the law program with me, while Willow was in finance. Willow and Irene shared a dorm room and became pretty close. I hadn’t even given Irene a second glance back then. My heart belonged to Willow.

But post-graduation, I found myself sitting for the bar with Irene. We studied together. We had dinner. I ended up fucking her in the back corner of the library in the middle of the night. We had a spicy fling that started only a few months after Willow left, and it lingered for a few years. When I broke it off it was because I was moving to DC to work for a private firm. Irene probably thought we were an item, though I never thought of her as more than sex.

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