Page 54 of Imperfect Arrangement
“—I’ve still got a question,” he finishes.
I fold my arms over my chest. “Go ahead, Jack.”
He leans back in his chair. “Wasn’t Miss Pershing the same landowner you were trying to convince to sell? Now, instead of building a luxury hotel, you’ve joined forces with her to create a wedding estate? Why the sudden change?”
“In business, plans evolve for the better, Jack. You know that well,” I reply coolly. “Until there’s a shovel in the ground, we have the flexibility to build whatever makes the most sense—whether it’s a hotel, a wedding estate, or even a damn monastery, as long as it’s profitable. Trust me, I’ve crunched the numbers.”
Jack’s mouth remains flat. “But why such a drastic pivot? Why not stick to the original plan? A grand hotel with Miss Pershing overseeing it sounds like a win-win.”
My jaw tightens, and the words slip out before I can stop or rephrase them. “Because this wedding estate matters to Willow. It’s her grandfather’s dream.”
The second I say it, I know I’ve made a mistake.
Jack finally smirks, like he’s been waiting for this. “That’s what I don’t get.” His voice drips with smugness. “Why dowecare? No offense, Miss Pershing, but business isn’t run on sentiment. Raymond has never made any decision based on personal feelings. If it were his own grandfather, maybe that’d be different. But why does Elixir Estates care about Miss Pershing’s family?”
The tension in the room is suffocating as every gaze bores into me, waiting for an explanation I don’t have. I’m certainly not going to admit to everyone here that Willow has somehow become important—not just to my daughter but also, slowly, to me.
Damn it, how did I not see this coming? I spent days pushing Willow to be prepared for every question, and here I am, completely blindsided.
I’m scrambling for a logical answer when Archer clears his throat from the far end of the room. “That’s because…well, even if Willow’s grandfather isn’t ours, she’s still family. Raymond and Willow are…engaged.”
“What?”
“What?”
I’ve never heard so many variations of the same word echoed throughout a room at once, and one of them is mine. My eyes lock on to Archer, and if looks could kill, he’d be nothing but a smoldering pile of ash.
“Is this true, Raymond?” Mark’s voice cuts through the chaos as he rises, making a beeline toward me.
Instinct screams at me to deny it. I hate lying more than anything, and I’m about to do just that when Archer—damn him—steps right up beside me, clapping a hand on my shoulder like this was all part of the plan.
“Of course it’s true,” Archer says with infuriating calm. “You know how private Raymond is. He’s never liked sharing his personal life.”
Suddenly, what was supposed to be a meeting about a financial investment turns into an impromptu congratulatory party. The well-wishing begins, and all I can do is stand there, feeling like I’ve been hit by a freight train. In the midst of the chaos, my eyes meet Willow’s. Her expression says it all.
What in the actual hell just happened?
I give her a small nod, hoping it somehow conveys,I’ve got this. We’ll figure it out.But before I can even begin to clean up the mess, Mark appears in front of me.
“You should’ve made the proper introductions, Raymond, but this works too.” He claps me on the back. “You and Willow officially have my approval for the investment.” He then turns to Jack, who’s the only one still rooted to his chair. “What about you, Jack? Are you in now?”
Jack rises slowly, making his way over with all the enthusiasm of someone heading to his own execution. His words are polite, but there’s an edge to his tone. “Congratulations. I’ll admit, this wasn’t what I expected today. Here’s hoping your marriage is as successful as this venture. I’m in.”
The handshake he extends to Willow feels more like a test, and without thinking, I slip my arm around her shoulders and pull her to my side. It’s not a planned move, just instinct.
Jack’s eyebrow shoots up, and Willow glances at me in surprise, but she thankfully plays along, keeping that dazzling smile firmly in place.
So here we stand, like a picture-perfect couple, accepting congratulations—not just for the business but for our so-called engagement.
When everyone finally leaves, I whirl around, and, as if reading my mind, Archer bolts to the opposite end of the glass table, putting as much distance between us as possible. Like that’ll actually protect him.
“I get that you’re ready to kill me, but hear me out first,” he says quickly.
I narrow my eyes, already plotting a dozen ways to wring his neck. “What the fuck did you just do? You know I hate lying.”
“I know, I know. But the truth wouldn’t have saved us today.” He throws his hands up like that somehow absolves him.
“So your solution was to lieforme?” I snap.
