Page 57 of The Deal with the Playboy

Whoever crosses Poppy, crosses me. We’re going to be married soon, and I have to protect her.

This is the place Poppy grew up in. It lacks warmth and coziness. If you took all the pictures down, you wouldn’t think a family lived here. The house is pristine, the furniture is expensive and looks to be imported from Italy. There are pictures hanging on the wall of them going on family outings, but Poppy is not in any of them. I can’t believe her mother went to the extent to wipe her completely because she can’t use her. It’s sad and pathetic and if it were up to me, I wouldn’t allow Poppy to see her mother.

It explains a lot. Why Poppy was so determined to make our place feel homey. She never had a place to call home, and the thought makes me sad.

Once I get to the living room, I find her mother watering lilies. Jimmy clears his throat, and his mother looks at us, her mouth hanging open. She blinks several times as she sets the watering can down on the wooden floor. Jimmy looks between me and his mother, pats me on the back, and leaves the room.

I sit on the couch that has weird patterns and cross my legs, then I point to the loveseat across from me for her to sit.

I glance at the paintings of African American people and interracial couples hanging on the beige walls, different plants and flowers scattered around them. This room smells like a greenhouse.

“Jasper Barrett. What are you doing here?”

A maid comes in to offer me something to drink, but I wave my hand, dismissing her.

“Rachel, it’s a pleasure to meet you.” I lean back on the couch. “I’m here to invite you to the wedding, since you didn’t show up to our engagement party. My fiancée is quite upset that you weren’t there to support her.”

She tucks her hair behind her ear, exposing a diamond earring. She’s the spitting image of Poppy, they can pass off as sisters. She has the same almond-shaped eyes and heart-shaped face. I see where Poppy gets her beauty from.

“From what I heard, your relationship is fake and you two are not getting married. It’s a stunt for her to get her inheritance.”

“It’s not a stunt.” I pull out the invitation and hand it to her. Rachel glares at the envelope. “My fiancée doesn’t need her inheritance from you. She works for me as my assistant. She wants you there because she loves you.”

Poppy doesn’t know that I’m setting up an account so she won’t have to depend on her mother again, and I’m not telling her mother about the five percent I’m giving her of Wolfgang Bank. After all the sacrifices she’s made for me, it’s the least I can do, and when I do divorce her, she will be set for the rest of her life.

“There is no excuse for you to not be there for your daughter. I was going to help your husband with his winery business because she asked. We are well aware of his gambling issues, that this house is collateral and you exhausted all your other options.” I rub my chin. My uncle always told me that I had a way of getting people to do what I want. “I’ll give you a check for fifteen million if you support your daughter on her wedding day, and I’ll help him with his winery business. We’ll set up a business meeting as soon as I’m back from our honeymoon. I will give you the check on the night of the wedding.”

She looks me up and down, shaking her head. “You love my daughter?” she asks as if she’s shocked by it.

“I do,” I lie.

I might not love Poppy, but I do have strong feelings for her, otherwise I wouldn’t have gone through the trouble to help her. Usually, I don’t put my nose in people’s business, and I wish I could say I’m doing this because I’m afraid she would back out, but I’m not. I’m doing it because I don’t want Poppy to be sad while we’re married, and I don’t want her to live a life without her family if it makes her unhappy to do so.I can’t give her a child, but the least I can do is be there for her.

My liking her is getting in the way of my goals. My liking her is making it hard to keep our relationship strictly business. My liking her is making me care about her well-being. My liking her is making me think about her while she’s away.

I need to keep my distance because I’m afraid of what will become of us if I continue down this route.

Rachael tears open the envelope and her eyes gloss over with tears. She hugs the invitation to her chest.

“This is the place where her father and I had gotten married.” She smiles sadly.

I watch her, not knowing what to say, so I remain quiet. I can’t handle women crying.

“Her father was everything to me and when he OD’d from cocaine, it shattered my world.” She sniffles. “I couldn’t imagine picking up the pieces of my life after his death and starting another family.”

I’m not equipped for this emotional shit, and I feel awkward as fuck. But I don’t feel sorry for her because of how she treats Poppy, though I feel bad for Poppy for losing her father.

An idea pops into my head. I want to do something nice for Poppy. Even though our wedding is a show, I want to make sure she experiences it as if it’s a real one.

“Do you have any pictures of Silas?”

She nods.“I’ll be right back.” She disappears from the living room, and I glance out the window at the garden in the backyard.

She comes back with a box and opens it. She holds up a picture of Poppy, sitting on her dad’s lap on a motorcycle. Then another picture of her riding a bike with him. She was a cute, chubby kid.

It makes me think about my own father and how I will never experience that type of love from Tommy and I’ll never experience that unconditional love Poppy’s father seems to have for her.

“Can I keep a few of these?” I ask.

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