Page 18 of Hitched to my Boss

"Natalia," I say carefully. "Look at your hand."

She follows my gaze and gasps. On her ring finger is a gold band that's clearly a wedding ring. Simple, elegant, and completely unfamiliar.

I look down at my own left hand and my blood turn to ice. Matching ring.

"No," she breathes. "No, no, no. Tell me we didn't..."

I spot something on the nightstand that makes my stomach drop. A piece of paper with ornate lettering that I can read even from here: "Certificate of Marriage, State of Nevada."

"Natalia." My voice comes out strangled. "I think we got married."

She follows my gaze to the certificate and goes pale. "That's not possible. You can't just accidentally get married. There are forms, waiting periods..."

"Not in Vegas." I sit up, the sheet pooling around my waist, and reach for the certificate. "In Vegas, you just need identification, and someone authorized to perform the ceremony."

The certificate is real. Jason Wallace and Natalia Santos, married yesterday at 11:47 PM by one Reverend Elvis Patterson at the Chapel of Eternal Love. Our signatures are at the bottom, shaky but legible.

"Reverend Elvis Patterson," Natalia reads over my shoulder. "We got married by an Elvis impersonator."

The absurdity of the situation hits me all at once. I've spent four years avoiding any kind of serious relationship,keeping everyone at arm's length, protecting myself from the complications that come with letting people get close. And somehow, in one night of Vegas excess, I've managed to accidentally marry the one woman who's gotten past all my defenses.

"This is insane," Natalia says, running her hands through her hair. "I don't do things like this. I'm the responsible one. I'm the one who plans everything and controls variables and prevents disasters."

"Well, we're definitely in disaster territory now."

She gives me a look that could melt steel. "Not helping."

My phone buzzes on the nightstand, and I reach for it automatically. Three missed calls from Marcus Hartwell, along with a text message that makes my blood run cold.

"What is it?" Natalia asks, seeing my expression.

I hand her the phone so she can read Hartwell's message:"Congratulations on the wedding! Looking forward to working with a man who clearly knows how to commit. Let's discuss the contract this morning."

"Oh God," she whispers. "He knows."

"How could he possibly know?"

She grabs her own phone from somewhere on the floor, scrolling through notifications with increasing horror. "Social media. Someone posted photos from last night." She shows me her screen, and I see several pictures of us at what's clearly a wedding chapel. Me in my wrinkled suit, Natalia in her green dress, both of us grinning like idiots while an Elvis impersonator holds a microphone.

"The tags mention your business name," she continues, scrolling through comments. "And several people have already congratulated Hartwell on finding a 'family man' to work with."

The pieces click into place with devastating clarity. Hartwell's old-fashioned values, his emphasis on working withpeople he can trust, his obvious approval when I'd claimed to be Natalia's boyfriend. He sees marriage as a sign of stability, commitment, the kind of character trait that makes someone a reliable business partner.

"We're screwed," I say, the realization hitting me like a sucker punch.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean if we get this annulled immediately, Hartwell's going to see it as proof that I'm exactly the kind of unreliable person he was worried about." I set my phone aside, my mind racing through the implications. "He's built his entire business on family values and traditional relationships. If he finds out this was a drunken mistake that we're immediately trying to undo, he'll see it as confirmation of everything negative he'd heard about me."

Natalia stares at me like I've lost my mind. "You're suggesting we stay married? To maintain a business relationship?"

"I'm suggesting we think through our options before making any irreversible decisions." I run my hands through my hair, trying to think through the hangover and shock. "This contract isn't just money, Natalia. It's credibility. It's the foundation for the kind of business expansion that could set me up for life."

"And what about my life? My career? I can't be married to a client, Jason. It's completely unethical."

She has a point, but there has to be a solution that works for both of us. "What if we don't get it annulled immediately? Just... take some time to figure out our options. See how the Hartwell situation plays out."

"You want to stay married."

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