Page 5 of Valentine's Day Proposal

My stomach churned, anger building. “I’m not sure I know how to help you. If you’re needing my permission or something, Charles is a free man. He left me high and dry seven years ago and I’ve never been clearer on one thing. We were not meant to be.”

“Mr. Bennet, excuse me if I’m overstepping.” Mel patted my shoulder and leaned over my desk. “But we are in the business of accounting. If Mr. Perish would like his taxes done, or his books actuated, I’d be happy to set an appointment with one of our team members. Otherwise, I’m not sure we can help.”

I couldn’t have said it better myself. Mel was my savior yet again. I owed her one, bigtime.

“Ms. Suthers, please, if you could just hear me out.” He held a hand up as Mel started to protest, and I nudged her. She glanced at me and then stepped back. “What I’m proposing is a mutually beneficial contract. Mr. Perish has made it very clear to me that he will not take on a wife of convenience. We have thus created a contract which we can send you if you want to review it. It would entail going with him to fundraisers, campaign events, rallies, dinners, being seen with him around town, and of course a marriage.”

“I—”

“Just wait.” He held a hand up again. “Let me explain… Mr. Perish is willing to allot two-hundred-thousand dollars to you for agreement to this contract. The fact that you two have history will make the contract credible as a genuine union in the public eye and will benefit your accounting firm.” He looked up at Mel with a glimmer in his eye. “The capital you need to expand.”

How did he know we were looking to expand? Mel’s hand fell on my shoulder again so fast I flinched. “Mr. Bennet, that is a generous offer, but I don’t—”

“Don’t answer now. Please. Talk to your business associate here and think about it. I’ll give you a call tomorrow afternoon.”

He rose and left without another word, and I sat with my jaw hanging open, in shock.

“What on earth?” Mel strolled around my desk and collapsed into a chair across from me. “How did he know we’re looking for capital?”

“He’s a sleazy politician. They know everything.” I watched him walk out the front door and disappear down the sidewalk. I wasn't sure what game Charles was trying to play, but I wasn’t having it. He could keep his money. There was no way in hell I was helping him.

5

CHARLES

The car bumped over roads and through intersections. Peter hadn’t told me where we were going, and I really didn’t care. I sat scrolling social media, reading comments on some of the posts made by my team. It was good to see what the constituents were saying, even if I didn’t agree or like their opinions. I represented the people who loved me and the people who hated me, and I needed to listen to every voice. They all mattered.

“So, you’re down in the polls again. I assume you haven’t changed your mind about taking Nina up on her offer?” Peter chatted with me as if my desire to remain unwed was a talking point on a television talk show.

I rolled my eyes upward at him and shook my head. “I’m not changing my mind.”

“Well good. I like a challenge.” Peter grinned and I wondered what the fuck he meant. But before I could ask, the car stopped out front of a small apartment building. Businesses surrounded the unit that likely had only two or three flats in it. In Georgetown, everything seemed quaint, like an old college town with a touch of class and sophistication. I looked up at the windows of the building and decided it must have been one of the other shops around that he was aiming at. As he climbed out, he looked back at me, holding his briefcase.

“Coming?”

“You didn’t say what we were doing. I didn’t know I was needed to fill your cupcake order.” I opened the door and stepped out, the driver keeping the car idling. “What are we doing in Georgetown? If you want more of those crostini this is the wrong street. We need M.”

“Shut up and follow me,” he said, gesturing at me. I rounded the front of the car and stepped up onto the curb. The air was crisp, but not frigid. We were only a week out from Valentine’s Day and February was often the bitterest of months in DC. But today wasn’t so bad. The temperature was supposed to reach above freezing at least.

I followed Peter to the tall brick building, painted white to cover the old decaying exterior. He pushed open the door and walked in, the warmth of the inner hallway greeting us. Without hesitation he bound up the steps two at a time to the second floor, so I kept pace with him, still not knowing what we were doing.

But when I saw the small wreath hanging on an apartment door—the very same apartment door that Peter was approaching—my feet turned to lead. The wreath was made of willow branches, fake ones that stayed green year-round, and had a tuxedo cat nestled in its center. I’d seen that same damn wreath for years of my life, hanging on a college dorm door.

“No.” I told him, backing up. “Not happening.”

I turned to go, but Peter knocked on the door. Her voice froze me on the top step. “Yeah?” She had called from the other side of the door, not yet open, as if she were expecting someone to visit. “It’s open.”

“Ms. Suthers? It’s Peter Bennet.”

I wanted to just charge right down those stairs and get in the car, but Peter would be furious. He’d helped some of the most well-known politicians win their campaigns, and I had hired him to do that for me. If I didn’t listen to him, he would just cut me loose and then who would run my campaign?

I heard the door creak open, and I couldn’t bear to turn and look at her. Before I could even process it, the scent of lilacs and honey wafted out into the hallway, paralyzing me further. Her perfume. The way her lips tasted, the touch of her hands on my skin.

“Mr. Bennet?” Willow’s voice was sweet, timid even, as if she hadn’t expected him. Had he planned to throw us together like a few caged animals? I turned to see her look up at me, the pain in her eyes was so deep and melancholy that I thought she’d start crying on the spot. “Charles?”

“Ms. Suthers, can I call you Willow? Willow, we came to discuss the arrangement I told you about?” Peter stood close to her, a little too close. I knew his tactic was to get into her apartment. He did that with voters too, when we went door to door campaigning. He’d back them right up until we were standing across the threshold, and they were feeling like they had to be hospitable. It worked, but it was sleazy. I wanted to rescue her from that.

Hell, I wanted to rescue her from every fucking thing I ever did to her, but there we were staring at each other down the hall and I was frozen.

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