Page 45 of An Improper Deal (Elliot & Annabelle 1)
“And for god’s sake, don’t do a one-year thing.”
“Why not?”
“Because you’re you, and you need somebody who adores you. You deserve a man who launches a thousand ships, razes cities, builds empires in your name…”
She laughs, but the sound lacks humor. “That’s so medieval. How much did you drink?”
“Nah, I’m totally sober.” I’d just hate it if she ends up with a womanizing asshole like me. The odds of that happening area really low so I’m probably worried about nothing. The girl—Gigi—wants my money, desperately so. Elizabeth is beautiful, kind, and most importantly, wealthy. Besides, her mother’s side of the family is filthy rich and über well-connected. They’d never let anything happen to her.
She sighs. “I just wonder if we’re all dancing to Dad’s tune, rushing into marriage with people we would’ve never chosen otherwise. It seems to be working out for Ryder, but I don’t know about you.”
I give a gasp of mock outrage. “Are you saying she isn’t good enough because she’s a stripper?”
“No! My gosh, don’t put words into my mouth. There’s nothing wrong with stripping. It’s honest work.”
“Well. That’s very…open-minded of you.”
“I’m not upset about her job history. I’m just not sure if both of you will be happy together for a year.”
“Sis, it’s only a year.”
“It’s three hundred and sixty-five days of your life, Elliot.” Her voice is quiet. “With the wrong person, that can feel like an eternity.”
“Jeez. When did you become so…philosophical?”
“When I realized we’re doing things that we would never do just for the paintings. I wonder if that’s what Grandpa would’ve wanted.”
She has a point. But Grandpa Thomas is gone, and Dad has his portraits… I sigh.
Grandpa was the only one in the family who cared. Dad was too busy with his various wives, and Mom was too distracted with her new husband and the life she was trying to create to ensure that Dad saw how much better off she was without him. That left no time for us, and we were shipped off to Europe for boarding schools.
For the best and the most prestigious education money can buy, they claimed. But we all knew the truth. It was the easiest and the most PR-positive way to unload us.
We spent almost every holiday with Grandpa, since he lived in Italy at that time. A world-renowned artist, he painted our portraits when we turned eighteen. They were how he saw us…in our youth, at the height of our potential. Every loving brushstroke spoke of his high regard and hopes for us, and I want mine so bad it hurts. It’s the only thing I’ll have of him.
“Don’t you want them?” I ask.
“Of course I do. It’s just…” She takes a moment. “I can’t help but wonder if this is the way to do it.”
“There is no other way, unless Dad keels over before he can change his will.”
Assuming he’s even left the portraits to us in his latest version. He could’ve very well left instructions to have them burned, for no other reason than to spite us. Dad isn’t just an asshole…he’s the entire fucking lower intestine.
A moment passes before she says, “You sure you don’t want me to attend the ceremony?”
“Yes. We’re going to do it the fastest and easiest way. It’s all a formality, nothing special.” I stretch out on the couch. “If I do find the woman of my dreams, I’ll have a grand ceremony and invite you. How about that?”
She lets out a short skeptical puff of air, but still says, “Deal.”
* * *
Annabelle
Despite her promise, Nonny’s still up. Technically she’s in bed, but she’s wide awake, so I consider that breaking the spirit of the promise.
“But it’s not my fault!” she protests. “I was in Ryder Reed’s Ferrari! It even smelled like him inside.” A dreamy smile curves her mouth, and she sighs softly.
“And how do you know what Ryder Reed smells like?”
