Page 12 of Dearly Unbeloved
“Technically, you’re family now, too. You’re Jazz’s sister-in-law,” Rose points out.
Shit. “She’s going to kill me. When she asked me if I would be your roommate, I don’t think she had us getting drunk and married in Vegas in mind.”
“She married Liam after they’d been dating for two months. She’s also Jazz. I don’t really think she has any kind of moral high ground here. Look, the way I see it, this is the last thing either of us wanted, but we might as well take advantage of a shitty situation.”
I pick at the crust of my toast, my ring sparkling in the harsh lighting. It’s a really pretty ring—both of our rings are much nicer than I’d expect, considering we bought them at 1 a.m. at a pawn shop, according to my mobilebanking app. It seems I also spent a decent chunk of my savings on it, and it’s too pretty for me to sell, so I guess I’m going to need that inheritance after all.
“Alright,” I agree, finally. “I guess we’re staying married.”
There’s a resounding crash as the tower of glasses tumbles to the ground behind the counter, smashing to smithereens.
Now, that’s an omen if I’ve ever seen one.
7
SIERRA
The drawer by the door labeled “shoes” is for your shoes, by the way. I labeled it just for you. No need to leave them in the middle of the floor. - R
P.S. 91 days until we get divorced
My head is still pounding when I walk into work on Tuesday morning. Between the lingering effects of the alcohol and my complicated new marital status, my mind is in knots. Jazz has been needling me all morning, asking if I’m sick and holding her hand up to my forehead to check for a fever, because I’ve been quieter than usual. But quiet is better than blurting out that I married her sister over the weekend.
Rose and I decided to wait until this coming weekend to tell everyone. Maggie and Cal are hosting family dinner at their place, and it’ll be easier to just rip the Band-Aid off and tell everyone at once. And her parents are morelikely to be civil in company. But that means four whole days of work without breathing a word of it to Jazz.
I have to tell my parents, and I know they’re going to want to meet Rose. For the first time, I’m glad they live so far away. Kyo’s partner, Rylan, is an engineer, so they move around the West Coast every couple of years. When they moved to Sacramento earlier this year, my parents decided to move with them. They’re both semi-retired (my dad does some freelance web design, and my mom volunteers for a children’s charity) and with Lina’s health problems, they wanted to be close to her.
Sacramento is a twelve-hour drive, and I don’t like flying, which is a perfect excuse not to introduce them to my wife.Wife. Jesus fucking Christ, how did we end up here?
But at least we don’t have to worry about our families for a few days. In the meantime, though, there is one person I need to tell—because if I don’t tell someone, I’m going to explode. Besides, I really need to make sure what we’re doing isn’t going to land either of us in prison, since it’s technically fraud.
I knock lightly on Cal’s office door. “It’s open,” he calls in his thick Irish accent. He looks up from his desk when I walk in, a wide smile on his face. “Hey. How was Vegas?”
“It was good. I’m still a little hungover,” I admit, dropping into the chair opposite him. The soft, worn leather hugs my body, and I could so easily curl up and take a nap. Cal probably wouldn’t mind, but that’s not why I’m here.
Michaelson and Hicks is the top business and corporate law firm in the state, and it couldn’t be in a better spot. Thebuilding isn’t huge, but Cal has the penthouse office, and the floor-to-ceiling glass windows let in the gorgeous late-summer light.
“I can imagine. Maggie said you and Rose were struggling on the flight home. You know, if you need the day?—”
“I’ll be fine,” I promise, leaning my head on my hands, and wondering how to approach this with him.
Cal eyes me suspiciously. “Everything alright?”
“Yep. Mhmm. Definitely alright… I’d like to hire you,” I blurt out. “For legal advice,” I clarify, but it does nothing to clear up the confusion on his face.
“Sierra, we’re friends. You can just ask me for legal advice.”
I shake my head. “Nope. Because if I ask you, you’re going to want to tell Maggie, and you’re going to end up feeling like either a bad friend if you do, or a bad husband if you don’t. If I hire you, you’re legally required to keep my secrets.”
Cal raises his brows. “That’s sneaky. I like it. I’m pretty expensive, you know.”
I roll my eyes and pull a five-dollar bill from inside my phone case. “How about five dollars, and I’ll buy you lunch?” I slide the bill across the desk and Cal pockets it.
“Five dollars, and I’ll buyyoulunch, because I feel so guilty for accepting your money,” he counters.
What a Cal thing to say. I laugh and lean back in the chair. “Perfect. Although, I think I’m getting the better deal here.”
“I have a million things on my to-do list today, and I don’t want to do any of them, so you’re givingme an excuse not to,” he replies with a shrug. “What can I help with?”
