Page 24 of Wicked God
I sit down on the edge of the receptionist’s stool. The marble countertop is cool beneath my clammy palms, but my face isburning, burning. I can’t catch my breath. I’m so stunned by the direction this day has taken that it takes me a moment to realize Cassandra is still talking, her voice coming from a tunnel far away.
“Hey, don’t panic,” she says. “This is great news.”
“Great news?” I choke out. “How is this great news? I’ve ruined everything.”
Cassandra grabs my arm, steadying me. “Take a deep breath, Olivia. We can figure this out.”
I feel sweat gathering at the back of my neck, the collar of my blouse suddenly too tight. My own pulse thuds in my ears. I stare holes through the marble, as if somewhere in its icy veins I might find an alternate reality where this hasn’t just happened.
“I slept with my sister’s fiancé, Cass,” I whisper. “That’s not a fixable thing. That’s a go-directly-to-hell, do-not-pass-Go thing. Tiffany will never forgive me.”
Cassandra gives me a Look, equal parts exasperation and pity. “First of all, it’s only unfixable if you put it in those terms. Technically, Tiffany doesn’t even know him. This could be your chance to save her from an arranged marriage she doesn’t want. But first, we need to figure out our plan of action,” Cassandra says, pulling out her phone from her bag. “Don’t worry, I’m sure he sees your potential. We just need to give him a good reason to want to marry you.”
What?
“I don’t understand.”
“Remember, Alexander is supposed to marry Tiffany,” Cassandra says slowly, as if talking to a child. And at this moment, I feel like one. “But he’s interested in you, isn’t he? I saw the way he looked at you on Friday, Olivia. He likes you. And let’s be real, he’s hot.Reallyhot. It could be the perfect solution to our problem.”
My cheeks flush at the memory of his intense grey eyes on me. I do not need this reminder right now.
“Cassandra,” I say, and my voice is the sound of a paper cut, “you are talking about blowing up a legal contract between two of the most controlling families on the East Coast because I made a terrible mistake with a man I barely know?”
“Not a mistake,” she corrects, wagging a lacquered nail at me. “A meet-cute. And it’s only a contract until someone breaks it—for good reasons.” She cocks her head. “Look, if Alexander wants you instead of Tiffany, the Carters and Hawthorns will just renegotiate. The whole point of these arrangements is maintaining power and appearances, right? No one cares if it’s you or your sister. They’ll adjust their little spreadsheets accordingly. You’re not doomed, Olivia. There’s a play here if you’re brave enough to make it.”
I swallow, my mouth dry. “And if he doesn’t want me?”
“Then you’re just back where you started, but with a great story and a few world-class orgasms.”
“You’re a terrible friend,” I mutter, but Cassandra only laughs.
“Olivia, listen to me. You are not the villain here. This is all smoke and mirrors anyway. The Hawthorns are getting what they want, Dean is getting what he wants, and Tiffany will care more about being out from under your uncle’s thumb than about who Alexander ends up with.”
I can’t even imagine looking Alexander in the face again. Not after last morning—how he woke me up with the pad of his thumb on my jaw, his hair mussed, his smile crooked. All of him, so real and present and not at all the cold, strategic Hawthorne I’d conjured up in my head.
But Cassandra is not someone you can out-stubborn. “Here’s what we’re going to do—I’ll plan everything out. You simply need to look your best, like you always do, and we’ll convince him you’re the one for him.”
She’s already texting someone, probably rifling through her contacts for ‘fixers’, ‘publicists’, and ‘discrete party planners’ as if my life is one big PR campaign. If I didn’t know her better, I’d think she was joking.
I don’t stop her, though. What terrifies me most is how much I want to believe her—how much I want some grown woman version of a fairy godmother to show up, wave a wand, and make the mess go away. I want to call Tiffany and confess everything, but I don’t want to shatter her trust.
Instead, I zone out staring at the cluster of magnolia blossoms someone’s set up at the entryway, and try to imagine the next steps. I’m still processing the basic facts: I spent the weekend in Alexander Hawthorne’s bed, I loved it, and now the only logical next step is to seduce him into breaking off his own engagement to my little sister. Or, at minimum, get him to stay interested in me long enough to steer the arranged marriage contract toward a more palatable outcome.
No pressure.
Chapter 12
Alexander
Iloosen my tie as I step through the door of my apartment after twelve hours at the firm. The living room lamp casts a dim glow over a figure sprawled across my couch.
“Lauren?” I drop my keys with a clatter.
My sister lies there like a sack of potatoes in a tracksuit, hair undone—none of her usual polish. It’s jarring, seeing the always-immaculate Lauren Hawthorne looking so defeated.
She exhales, long and tired. “Father got me kicked out of the university.”
I freeze halfway through removing my suit jacket. “He did what?”
