Page 58 of Fair Trade
I can clearly hear my accountant screaming in my ear to reconsider.
But it doesn’t stop me from goading her. “I retrieve my lost asset and keep my money, and you keep your position not only on this team, but as the beacon of light for all women everywhere.”
She glares at me, and I smile.
“Oh, and that integrity. Let’s not forget that.”
“So, Stonehaven. What do you say? We getting married or what?” She holds out her hand as if to shake on a simple deal.
I take it and quickly pull her into my chest. Her soft gasp does something to me, and I make a mental note to make sure I get to hear it again.
“I recover my asset, and you keep your job. Sounds like a fair trade to me.”
twenty-six
Present
I married Luisa fucking Álvarez.
Or is it Stonehaven now? The thought sends a zap of electricity down my spine as we enter her apartment.
We just left my attorney’s office. The place that will now be forever known as the spot where I married my Angel.
Not the most romantic setting, but it got the job done.
I can’t believe we actually did it.
I’m stuck somewhere between disbelief and wonder.
My new missus, on the other hand, seems much more annoyed by her new relationship status, mumbling under her breath words that sounded like “cleaning up after rich men’s messes.”
And to be fair, she’s not wrong. A part of me feels unbearably guilty for pulling Luisa into this farce of a marriage. Yet the other part of me, the one that’s been secretly pining for this woman for the better part of a year, feels like it can howl at the moon at any moment.
She’s mine for the next year, and I don’t plan on wasting a single second.
“I’ve come up with a plan. One that helps cover our bases, so to speak.” I interrupt her hasty packing. She’ll be moving into my place tomorrow morning and seems to want to get a jump on the preparations now, at almost midnight.
“Oh, are we doing baseball puns now?” She aggressively stuffs a few pairs of socks into a duffel bag.
I walk around her bedroom, taking in every detail of the place she calls home. “I think that in order for us to make this marriage believable, we need to focus on three key areas. Manhattan society, our baseball world, and the toughest out of the three: our friends.”
“You meanmyfriends. You have Daisy by default, but I’m also claiming her in this marriage.” She moves to her closet and pulls out a few jackets.
I ignore her quip. “We need to be seen out and about, at charity functions or newsworthy events. Introducing you on my arm for the first time sends a clear message that I am now a married man and am smitten with my wife.”
“Who’s gonna tell all your old supermodel dates they’re off the payroll?”
“Second…” I ignore her snarky remark and secretly hope I detected a hint of jealousy. “We need to be the face of the Monarchs organization. We need to show that we are a team and dispel any potential murmurs of inappropriate behaviors.”
“I’ve yet to see you act appropriately even once. Guess we’re doomed.”
“And last, we can’t hide in our home for the rest of the year. We still need to live our lives and have fun, meaning that we need to spend time with our friends, and they need to believe that we’re the real deal. I don’t think any of them would tattle onus, but I don’t want to put anyone in a position where they feel like they have to lie for us.”
She stops moving for the first time tonight and nods. “I hate the idea of burdening anyone I love with our secret. It’s our mess, and we will handle it accordingly.”
“Which means we’re going to have to be convincing. We have to prove to the world that we are so in love that we ran off and got hitched. So this,” my pointer finger swings back and forth at the two of us, “needs work.”
She scoffs, “Oh yeah? And why do I get the sense that I’ll be the one doing all the work?”
