Page 26 of Beauty and the Beach

I nod slowly, thinking it through as Wyatt’s pen scribbles furiously on his legal pad. “Yes,” I say. Then, more decisively, “Yes. That’s agreeable.”

Phoenix gives a brisk bob of his chin and speaks again. “Excellent. I propose the following, then: you and I marry quickly and quietly at Town Hall. We’ll take official wedding portraits, however, because my family will already be suspicious as is. For the duration of the contract, we will live together?—”

“Is that necessary?” I cut in, my stomach flipping at thethought of actually living with Phoenix. I tuck a few strands of hair behind my ear. “We’re over here on the island. Your family’s not going to know if we’re not cohabitating.”

Phoenix’s only response is a dry, humorless laugh.

“It will be necessary,” Wyatt says, putting down his pen and looking apologetically at me. “The Butterfields will be very suspicious about the timing of these nuptials, and more than one of them will want to prove that your marriage is fake. I think it’s safe to assume that people will be watching you.”

I blink at him. “I—are you serious?”

“Very much so,” Wyatt says.

“My family is insane,” Phoenix says. The words are short, clipped.

“I mean, everyone’s family is a little weird?—”

“No,” he says, shaking his head. “Weirdis not the correct term. My aunt Rita once tried to hit my uncle Clarence with her car because he set her living room on fire. My mother is deeply in debt but continues to expand her fascinator collection using my money. Barbara is just the same, and the cousins are all crazy, too. I’m glad to be alive, but my grandparents had no business procreating.”

“Okay,” I say, my eyes wide. “We’ll live together. Fine. But I get my own room,” I add.

He dips his head. “Yes. We will live together, but we will use separate rooms and separate beds. We will tell no one on the island—none of your friends or mine,” he says with a severe look, and I nod quickly in assent.

“Cat already sort of knows a little bit,” I admit, ignoring his glare. “But agreed for the rest.” I don’t want anyone knowing my shame. “Maggie…”

His expression softens the tiniest bit. “Maggie should befine, as long as she doesn’t tell the rest of your family. The fewer people who know about this, the better.”

Amen.

“As for public expectations,” he goes on, “when we are with my family, we will behave as a loving couple. We will hold hands and touch and all the normal things couples do.” The look he shoots me is cool, assessing. “Is this going to be a problem?”

I swallow. “No,” I say, because he’s talking about this in such a detached, businesslike manner that he must be totally fine with it. If he’s fine, I’ll be fine, too. “It won’t be a problem.”

“Good.” Another brisk nod. “For the sake of appearances, you will also need to conform to a certain look. Your normal attire is fine when we’re here, but when we’re in the presence of my grandmother or other family members, you’ll need to take my direction on clothing and styling.”

I grimace as images of pants suits and pearls fill my head. Three or four snarky replies dance on my tongue, but I hold them in, because I’m trying to be professional about this. “Fine,” I say. “How’s that going to work?”

Now Phoenix grimaces, looking even more put out than I do. “It may require a joint shopping trip, which will no doubt be painful for all involved.”

Good grief. Is he going toPrincess Diariesme? Is this going to be one of those things where he passes his black card to a sales associate and she returns with piles and piles of clothing and makes me try all of them on?

But he changes the subject before I can protest or ask more questions. “For compensation, this is my offer,” he says. Wyatt slides a sheet of paper out of his folder and passes it to me, and Phoenix goes on. “One-third deliveredupon signing, one-third delivered upon marriage, and the last third delivered upon dissolution.”

I take the paper, look at the number, and feel my jaw drop. I stare at it for a second, just to make sure I’m not hallucinating. Then I look at Phoenix.

“You’re stupidly rich,” I say.

“Mmm.” He doesn’t look particularly happy about it. “Yes. I am.”

I lean back in my chair. “Does this include Maggie’s tuition?” I say, waving the paper.

“No,” he says, businesslike once more. He leans back too, crossing one ankle over his knee. “Maggie’s tuition will be added on top of that, as will any medical expenses you incur.” He gestures at my bad knee. “You’ll be added to my insurance as well, of course. Is this acceptable?”

“Yes,” I say. I guess I’m a gold digger now.

“My family is going to be very suspicious, Amsterdam,” he says, and it’s weird hearing him speak so professionally but still calling me that. He pins me with a look so serious that a little twinge of anxiety pulses low in my gut, and then he goes on. “They will be watching for any sign that something is not right between us. Lawrence wants to inherit, as do several others. Ultimately I believe it will come down to either Lawrence or me, but I can’t rule out other possibilities. So while we are with my family…” He exhales softly. “You need to look at me like I hang the sun, the moon, and the stars.”

“I understand,” I say, but my words are unsure.

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