by Roxy Wynn
A shrewd businesswoman, Mrs. Calloway made her money arranging green card marriages. She made a deal with Chrissy and me after that first wedding. She used our bakery as her exclusive wedding cake provider in exchange for our cooperation and discretion. We got a portfolio and a lot of money, and she got perfect weddings no one could question the validity of.
Initially, I was on the fence, since I’m small and not built for jail fights, but Chrissy agreed to the terms immediately. What sold it for her, was free rein to make any cake she wanted as long as it was beautiful. She had complete creative control.
“There you are,” Calloway said. The woman reminded me of a Southern Dolores Umbridge in a canary yellow pantsuit. “I have a check for you.” She smiled and thrust an envelope into my hand.
“Thanks,” I muttered, turning on my heels. Chrissy could handle Calloway, but I preferred to have as little interaction with her as possible. Something about her rubbed me the wrong way.
“Sarah, if you don’t mind me saying something…”
Oh God, what now?
“I heard you have a little problem with the father of your boy.”
Raising my eyebrows, I glared at her. “And how did you hear that?”
She gestured to the large reception room. “These walls echo, dear. I don’t mean to pry.”
Would it be weird if I turned and ran away?
I plastered on my best customer service smile. “Okay, well, I’ve got it all under control. I have plenty of evidence that Eli was a negligent father. I’m not worried.”
“Of course,” she said. “An independent woman such as yourself can do anything you set your mind to. Even raise a strong young man on your own.”
“Cool. Thanks.” I said. “I better get going. Kenneth is waiting for me…”
Following right on my heels, she continued chatting like we were the best of friends. “Of course, here in the south, it really is hard to prove that a young mother can do it all on her own. Especially when she has a business to run and no husband in the picture. If you were married and settled, no one would bat an eyelash.”
My stomach dropped. I had a feeling I knew exactly where this was headed.
“I get it. But I have Chrissy and Jax until my knight in shining armor decides to show himself.”
“There is another way…”
I wheeled around again, in an attempt to cut her off before she took this somewhere we would both regret. “Unless you’re friends with a family court judge, or know a great lawyer, I have everything under control.”
If five years of mommy blogs had taught me anything, it was that judges always favored mothers.
Mrs. Calloway turned off her fake charm, letting her evil side shine. “I have a husband for you.”
I shook my head. “Not interested.”
“He’s a nice young man. Talented. Successful. He could have any woman he wants, but his manager and I agreed a young mother might be a good fit.”
Even though I had my hand on the door, a morbid curiosity stopped me from pushing it open. I could feel the heat of the summer day on the brass handle, but I stood frozen, staring at the Ruby’s van.
Calloway went in for the kill. “There is a house in the Wallace district that he’s just purchased. It’s being furnished now, and will be ready by the end of the week.”
I knew the area well, it’s where the rich people like Chrissy and Jax lived, and where the less rich people like me spent time when they were between residences. The guy must be loaded.
She continued, sensing my interest. “You and your son could live in one wing, and Mr. Lane in the other. You’ll have minimal interaction with him outside of a few social engagements, and after one year, you will be free to go your separate ways. He will continue on in his career as an American citizen, and you will get to keep the house plus two hundred thousand dollars for your time.”
I took my hand off the door and turned to face her. “All of this is illegal. Besides selling you cakes, I don’t want to be involved.”
“It is.” She nodded, reaching out and brushing a stray curl from my forehead. “We all do things for the ones we love, don’t we? Bailey needs a strong family unit right now, even if it’s just for show in the courtroom. I can offer you that.”
Kenneth honked the horn in the parking lot.
“Thank you, but no. You’re asking me to potentially fuck my kid up, for what? A house? Some money? Bailey is worth more than that.”
“Watch your language, dear. Alfie and his manager will be here this afternoon, and I have a meeting at their hotel in the morning.”
My heart leaped in my chest. Was she suggesting…
“Alfie? Alfie Lane?”
I didn’t want to excite the old bag, but I loved Alfie Lane. Like, loved him, loved him. For the past year, I spent just as much time listening to his music as I did working. His soulful rock music had become a soundtrack for my life. Station Girl was catchy pop music, but I knew every word by heart. Even the bootlegs from his early UK shows were mind-blowing.
And that wasn’t even mentioning how hot he was. He had a chiseled jaw, full lips, and sexy hazel eyes. And those tattoos! Just thinking of how good his arms looked holding a guitar left me salivating. Many a restless night was spent fantasizing about ripping his pants off and straddling him.
“A fan of his music, I take it?”
Great, not only is Calloway a snake, but she can also read minds.
“He’s okay.” I lied. “Bailey loves Station Girl. He knows every word.”
Her grin widened. “Excellent. Why don’t you just come with me in the morning to meet him?”
I shook my head again. “This feels like a trap.”
“No trap, dear. He has other women to choose from, you’re just my top choice.”
It was a tough decision. If she were talking about any other man on the planet, I would tell her to take a hike. But Alfie Lane, the man I had been obsessed with for the past year? It was hard to say no.
“If I agree to go to this meeting, can I get an autograph for Bailey while I’m there?”
“Of course, dear. Meet me at the hotel at nine o’clock, sharp.”
I gave a quick nod and pushed my way out into the sunshine.
While Kenneth drove us back to the bakery, I tried to keep my excitement to myself, and mentally planned what I would wear. Should I wear something sexy or dress more conservative? He was British, maybe something made out of tweed would turn him on.
What the hell? No, Sarah. Just no! Go in, get your autograph, and get out.
So what if she wanted us to get married? Not only are green card marriages asking for trouble, but I did not need a husband. I was perfectly happy being celibate until Bailey graduated from high school. After that, if I was lucky, I would find a nice guy with a good job, who didn’t leave dirty socks on the floor. To me, that was the epitome of living the good life.
No way was I going to marry Alfie Lane.
Chapter Four
Alfie
“I’ll take a Bloody Mary, Love.”
The flight attendant, a gorgeous, dark-haired beauty with legs to die for, bit her lip, and smiled. If Oliver wasn’t with me, I would have her in the loo in a heartbeat.
This is why I take private flights whenever possible.
“Of course, Mr. Lane. Anything for you, sir?” She asked Oliver.
“Actually,” I said, interrupting. “Make mine a double, and maybe you could join me in a…”
“Earl Grey, no sugar,” Oliver said, cutting me off. He was looking down at the tablet in his hand, scrolling through pictures, not enjoying the gorgeous creature employed by this airline.
She nodded curtly at him. Making eye contact one last time, she winked at me before turning around and sauntering back to her drink station.
“Why do you have to spoil everything?” I asked when she was out of earshot, my eyes trailing her backside. She looked over her shoulder again and smiled.
Yes, Love. I see yo
u taunting me…
“Alfie, we have more important issues to discuss.”
“It’s always important issues with you, Mate.”
When she came back with the drinks, she dropped my Bloody before serving Oliver and pressing her breasts against my shoulder. Naughty girl.
Yes, America was beginning to grow on me.
“What could we have to discuss at this hour of the morning?” I asked over the cleavage close enough to shove my face into. She smelled like lilacs, my new favorite flower.
Oliver, no stranger to my wandering eye, tossed his tablet on to the table next to my Bloody Mary. “Well, we need to discuss your wife, for starters.”
The flight attendant straightened quickly, not making eye contact, and turned away.
I glared at him. “You take the joy out of everything. I can’t even talk to a beautiful woman without you ruining it.”
He gestured to the tablet. “Just look at the photos and pick one.”
Rolling my eyes, I scrolled through them, not paying any attention to the innocent women on his screen. “This one is too old. This one has a funny chin…”
“You aren’t judging a beauty contest…”
“And this one.” I pointed to a picture of a woman with a nose ring. “What is she? A bull? Will I have to wave a red cape at her at the wedding?”
“Alfie…”
“Maybe she’s a dominatrix? You know what, I might be into this after all. Who knew getting married could be so exciting?”
If I continued on this line of questioning, Oliver would have a coronary.
“Just pick one, it’s not important!” Oliver had a particular way about him where he could yell while whispering. I thought only my mum could do that. At this rate, poor Ollie would have a heart attack before he turned forty.
I put my arm around his shoulder and pulled him close. “But I am looking for the woman I will marry. This may be another business deal to you, but to me it’s important.”
He took a sip of his tea and brushed my arm away. “Fine. You’re right, I’m sorry. I’m just tired.”
I scrolled through the pictures again, my eyes still not focusing on the women. “But really though, besides a pretty face, what should I be looking for?”
He took the tablet back and started from the beginning, giving me all the information his mysterious contact had provided.
“The last one here comes highly recommended. Calloway thinks she would be perfect, and to tell you the truth, she’s my favorite as well.”
Raising my eyebrows, I rubbed my hands together like a child on his way to get ice cream. “You have excellent taste, Mate. If you like her, I know she’ll be lovely.”
Oliver had been my mate since primary school. He was a year older and taller, but he always had my back. If a bully messed with me, Oliver was the one that gave them a beating.
When we got older, and I started playing music, Oliver stayed in school, learning how to become a cut-throat businessman. It was only natural when I won Music Makers that I called him to be my manager. He hadn’t steered me wrong yet.
We had different careers, but with women, Oliver and I were two peas in a pod.
At least I thought we were. When he handed me the tablet, I stared down in confusion. The screen showed two women in front of a bakery. They were both dressed in blue work suits with their hair up in red bandanas.
“What do you think of that?” He asked with a sly smile.
I spun the tablet around, trying to look at what he was so excited about. “Is this mother and daughter? What am I looking at here?” The blonde was so much taller than the brunette, it was laughable.
“The small one is Sarah Taylor. She’s a mum to a young boy.”
The thought was ludicrous. “Stop. Full stop, Mate. No kids. They’re like tiny drunk people. They shit themselves and stumble. Can’t even form a sentence without drooling…”
“It’s good for your image…”
“I don’t care what it’s good for. I’m a rock star, not a nanny. And besides, the woman is the size of a hobbit. I can’t be seen with that. People will think I’m a pedophile.”
Oliver flagged down the flight attendant again, who did her best to pretend I didn’t exist. “On second thought, Love, I will have a Bloody Mary.” She nodded, but this time didn’t look my way at all.
Pity.
“You see that,” I said. “You’ve spoiled things for me already. No one wants to shag a married man. It’s not right.”
“Alfie, I will be straight with you. The record company thinks it’s for the best if you maintain a clean image. They can sell Alfie Lane, the respectable Englishmen. They can’t sell Alfie Lane, the obnoxious, womanizing drunk.”
I scoffed, but he continued. “And furthermore, I stand to make a lot of money on this. You have to behave.”
Taking the celery out of my drink, I tossed it on to the paper napkin and pounded the spicy drink in two gulps. It was empty when she returned with his drink, but didn’t take my glass or offer me another.
“Has it ever occurred to you I want to be an obnoxious womanizing drunk? I’ve been training my entire life.”
“Of course. There is time for debauchery later. Finish the contract with the label and you will have all the time and money in the world to pursue your interests. For now, you need to fall in line, for your sake as well as my own.”
He knew I hated being bossed around. Since winning Music Makers, I had been told what to wear, how to sing, what songs went on the album. Besides taking a shit, some executive in a bad suit scripted every part of my life. Rebelling and being the bad boy was all I had left of me.
“What if I don’t want to fall in line?”
Oliver put on his eye mask. “Then you are on your own.”
I sipped the remainder of my watered-down mixer, scowling at him. I wanted another, but the flight attendant was missing. Since Oliver’s Bloody sat untouched, I took it and quietly gulped down the spicy mix.
She was probably ignoring me because she thinks I’m a lecherous twat. What’s the point of having a private jet if you couldn’t even get pissed and shag the flight attendant in the loo?
When no one else was talking to me, I tried taking his cue and closing my eyes for a quick snooze. After all, we would be tired and jet-lagged when we landed. Might as well get some shut-eye before hitting the big easy. If we were going to meet this Calloway character in the morning, it was best not to look too disheveled.
The only problem was, they wanted to discuss marrying me off to clip my wings.
Bollocks.
I opened my eyes and took his tablet again to thumb through my options for wedded bliss. The women on the screen looked up at me with giant smiles, proud of their bakery. The brunette, Sarah Taylor, and the Amazonian blonde, each had the same Rosie the Riveter pose that screamed ‘We Can Do It’ while standing in front of the business they built. It was commendable what they had managed to accomplish considering the biography said they had been open less than three years.
I enlarged the image, zooming in on the tiny brunette. If I had to be honest, she was quite fit. Her hair was a striking chestnut brown and looked unruly, stuck up in her red bandana. Between that and her wide-set, deep brown eyes, she was both innocent and sexy. Her curls looked like they would burst free at any moment. With such a petite frame, it almost seemed as if she was more hair than woman.
On Halloween, she would make an amazing naughty librarian with almost no effort.
I tried to imagine what she would look like in a wedding dress. Would her delicate, doll-like features look wrong next to me, the tall tattoo-covered rock star? She had an air of innocence about her like she was too perfect to be tainted by a bloke like me.
“I bet you’re a wonderful mum,” I whispered to the photo.
Following Ollie’s lead again, I leaned my seat back and shut my eyes, giving myself no choice but to sleep. The next few days were bound to be hectic, and a little sleep now would go a long
way.
Chapter Five
Sarah
Thirty minutes after Mrs. Calloway and I met the very dashing Oliver Kelly, Alfie Lane still hadn’t come down to meet us. Our original plan was to meet up and do introductions in the lobby, then head to Alfie’s suite to discuss further details.
But Alfie was MIA.
It bummed me out, but not overly so because despite what Calloway thought, I was just there for an autograph and a selfie. And possibly some flirting, but I hadn’t decided on that part yet. The three of them could discuss business all they wanted, but I just wanted to meet Alfie and then go on my way.
I wanted to look my best for the meeting, so I left my unruly hair to do its own thing. In the humidity, everything tended to go wild, but leaving it down made me feel sexier. It was my defining feature, so why not show it off?
The grey linen wrap dress I wore was professional yet feminine, displaying my legs nicely. The only thing I wore that Calloway might take issue with were the fire engine red platform sandals. Not only did they give me five inches of height, they were sexy as hell.
Sure, everyone else in the lobby was dressed like they were on their way to a business meeting or a funeral, but I didn’t care. Meeting my favorite musician was a once in a lifetime opportunity, and I planned to take advantage.
I wonder if his autograph goes for anything on eBay…
Oliver glanced down at his watch for the millionth time and shifted his weight from foot to foot, visibly upset. I tried not to keep sneaking glances at him, but he was dressed in a three-piece suit in the middle of a Louisiana summer. It was a bold move, considering the humidity in the air.
Why was it that all U.K. fashion looked so proper? Every fashion blog I subscribed to showed pictures of impeccably dressed people on the streets. It gave the impression that everyone there dressed well. I hoped Alfie looked half as dapper as his manager did.
If he showed up in a sexy three pieced suit, no matter how impractical, I might just throw myself at him.
“Mr Kelly, let’s bring this up to the penthouse. I’m afraid we will have too many wandering eyes doing introductions in the lobby,” Calloway said. Everyone that walked by was subject to her scrutiny.
