Page 16 of Paper Roses

“But can he act?”

“He can do anything he puts his mind to,” I say with certainty. “And he’s never mentioned Proust, so that’s got to be a bonus.”

She snorts. “True.”

“What do you think?”

The noise of music fills the line for a few seconds. “You should do it,” she finally says firmly.

“Why?”

“Because you know Jed. You like Jed. And you sound confident about the idea, and I like that for you.”

I do?I ask silently. I clear my throat and say, “Yes.” Because I do know and like Jed—those are two things I can be entirely confident about.

She says goodbye, and I settle back against the door, shivering slightly at the cool air of the flat.

Daisy had seemed surprised I’d come up with a solution on my own. But had I actually done that? No. That had been Jed.

Nobody ever expects me to take charge. Part of that is my personality, and part of that is due to circumstances—my father’s weakness and my stepmother’s hatred. I’m sure Jed thinks I’ve fallen into the trap set by my stepmother, but he never knew Laura. She’d be horrified to think I’d played her game and won. The thought gives me a small thrill.

I pull out my phone and regard it thoughtfully. Spending more time with Jed—having him play this game with me—also gives me a thrill. One I should be wary of, but damn it, why shouldn’t I get some benefit from this absurd situation and spend time with someone who makes me feel good? It won’t hurtJed. Once the reading of the will is done and the solicitors are happy, he’ll get on with his life, and I’ll have my house.

I find his contact picture. It’s one I’d rather creepily taken without him knowing at the office Christmas party. He’d been laughing at something Joe had said, and I’d snapped the picture. I’d cut Joe out of it without a shadow of guilt, and now Jed’s face stares back at me, his eyes alight and his handsome face soft with laughter, lacking for once its usual concentration and focus.

I press to connect the call.

“Artie?” he says in his deep voice that always makes me shiver. “Are you okay?”

It’s the concern in his tone that makes my decision final.

“I’m fine. Are you sure you want to do this?”

The line is silent for a second as he registers what I’m saying. However, his voice is as decisive as ever when he says, “I wouldn’t have offered if I didn’t mean it. I want to help you.”

“Why?”

The answer is quick. “Because you’re a very good person who’s been dealt a shitty hand in life, but is still far too kind for his own good. And we’re only going to be married until the reading of the will. We’re getting an annulment once you get the house. I’m not plighting my troth for eternity,” he finishes wryly.

I wish you were, I think wistfully before shoving the thought far away.

“Then, if you don’t mind, I’d be very grateful for your help."

Three Weeks Later

The car pulls to a stop outside my flat, and Jed switches the engine off.

I wait but he doesn’t get out to open my door for me as usual—a habit that’s always secretly thrilled me. He stares aheadat the street as if fascinated by the view. There’s nothing there unless you count an old crisp packet dancing in the cool breeze. This summer has been a complete washout.

“Thanks for the lift,” I finally say.

He startles. “Oh, you’re welcome.”

His mind seems miles away from this car, and perhaps his thoughts of me are even further. “Well, I’ll see you tomorrow,” I say huskily.

He puts a hand over mine. “Stay for a moment,” he says.

I swallow. He’s suddenly very close, his big body hard and warm. His fingers are long, and the calluses on his fingertips are thrillingly rough.

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