by Nia Arthurs
After the money I spent on my first wedding, none of the price tags in this jewellery store could faze me. At least this time I’m aware I’m throwing money away on something that’ll shift with the wind.
“Look,” I grasp her shoulders, turn her to me, “I know what you gave up. I won’t pretend that I’m not the one gaining more from this. If you intend to fool your family and put on a show,” I twist her so she can watch the sparkling diamonds in the glass case, “put on a good one.”
A smile creeps over her lips. “Can you really afford it?”
I shrug.
The smile widens.
I hold out a hand. “Give me your phone.”
“Is this collateral?”
I smirk. “Just give it.”
She does.
I inspect the cracked screen. “Take your time. I’ll be right back.”
“You’re not going to choose it with me?”
I shake my head. Just being in here is bringing back bad memories.
Elizabeth doesn’t seem all that bothered by my absence. In fact, she and the store clerk hook arms like long-lost best friends and skip through the rings on display.
I leave and head to the phone store. The technician is more than happy to prioritize my ticket when I slide an extra hundred over the counter.
With Elizabeth’s fixed phone in a bag, I head back to the jewellery store twenty minutes later and find her just about to walk out.
“You got what you wanted?”
She nods and hands me back the card. “Want to see it?” She lifts a hand, flashing a well-crafted, modest ring at me. It suits her. “Isn’t it pretty?”
For a moment, instead of her face, I see Lana’s. “Isn’t it pretty, Broge?”
Something cold washes over me.
Scowling, I hand her the bag and push out a gruff, “Let’s go.”
Elizabeth’s stare burns into my back, but I don’t care.
She can handle her feelings on her own and I’ll take care of mine. There won’t be any caring between us. No friendship. Nothing. I know where all those soft, seemingly innocent feelings can lead.
Getting stabbed in the back once was enough.
I’m not making the same mistake twice.
Eight
Elizabeth
I lift my ring hand as I lie in bed that night. The diamond sparkles beautifully. It’s stunning. Not too big and not too small either. I spent an eternity in indecision until I saw this. Then I just… I knew.
Rolling over, I stare at my empty bed.
My first night as a married woman has been… underwhelming.
Which is fine.
Great, really.
I’m a low-key person.
An introverted extrovert. I like being social and having company in small doses, but I am equally at peace with being alone.
Of course.
I’ve been sleeping alone most of my life.
It’s just…
In my heart of hearts, when I imagined getting married—on the off-chance that I ever did find someone who could keep it in his pants and be faithful to only me—it never looked like this.
Cold.
Empty.
Gruff.
So… so gruff.
I shudder when I think of how distant Brogan had become out of nowhere. All I did was show him the ring and there was this immediate and vivid wall that shot up between us. Like a guillotine falling. Sharp. Unforgiving.
Those blue eyes had turned stormy.
That square jaw flexed.
It was like he became a different person.
One who didn’t want to acknowledge my presence at all.
Despite my desperate attempts, we didn’t talk on the flight back. He barely looked at me as he walked me back to my car that was parked in the airport.
We exchanged, maybe two words, about where we’d meet up for the cake tasting tomorrow.
And then he left.
No calls.
No text.
Nothing.
Which is fine.
Great.
He’s been perfectly clear about what this marriage is.
But, I don’t know…
I thought we were leaning towards becoming sort-of friends.
At least pleasant acquaintances.
Something like soldiers in the same war, maybe?
He fixed my phone for me.
He saw a problem and he took care of it.
Why treat me so coldly only to turn around and do something so warm?
I never asked him to.
I won’t ask him to.
I don’t expect him to fulfill any roles as a husband, provider or anything else.
I’ve been taking care of myself for all these years, and I’m perfectly fine continuing as is. He’s the one who went out of his way.
I sit up.
Grab my phone off the nightstand. Hold it above me.
The screen is beautiful. Flawless. As perfect as the day I bought it.
I swipe my thumb over the glass protector.
Dad was always getting on me to safeguard my device with a better case and glass protector. I’m given to clumsiness, especially when it comes to my phone, but I was too busy to do it before. It always slipped my mind, replaced with bigger, more important matters.
Now, I do have a screen protector.
Because Brogan bought it for me.
Because he thought enough of me to not only fix the screen but to go a step further. It’s a little, practical thing, but it meant so much more than him slapping down his credit card and announcing I could buy a fancy ring.
It just…
I thought it meant something.
Something.
I’m not asking for much.
I don’t want to fall in love with my husband, but can’t we at least be friends?
With a sigh, I roll over to my other side. Tuck my arm under my head. Try to get comfortable beneath the sheets.
I’m being ridiculous.
I barely know this man, now all of a sudden I care what he thinks about me and crave a relationship?
“Get yourself together, Liz,” I murmur to the darkness.
It’s just the romance of the wedding. The social conditioning attached with what a marriage should be and look like.
The truth is… nothing’s changed now that we’ve signed the papers.
We’re still the same people.
We live the same lives.
We’re just… a documented couple for the government to file away.
I sigh.
Set the phone down.
Squeeze my eyes shut.
My thoughts are driving me crazy.
I need sleep.
Hopefully everything will make sense in the morning.
The next day, I get up. Shower. Lotion my ashy brown skin. My hair is in desperate need of moisture, but I’m too lazy to deep condition, so I just spray some water and let it rock the frizzy afro it wants to.
Brogan and I are meeting for the cake tasting around one o’clock, so I spend a good half-hour trying on different outfits before I settle on one—a long-sleeved white blouse and a pair of pink, wide-bottom pants.
It’s simple. Chic. Feminine.
After slipping on my pink, triangle-toed pumps and a light summer jacket, I’m ready to head out the door.
On the drive to work, I debate calling Brogan.
Just to remind him about our meeting.
I hold myself back. He already promised he’d be there and I don’t want to seem overbearing.
He knows how important this is.
He wouldn’t ditch me now that he’s gotten what he’s wanted.
Right?
Right?
My horrible experiences with other guys chip away at my trust. I keep hearing that nagging voice in my head, warning me that Brogan will dip just like all the others who moved on after a couple nights of hooking up.
Wincing and hating myself for my insecurity, I dial his num
ber.
It connects.
Brogan’s deep voice fills my car. “Hey.”
“Hey.” I hesitate. Grip the steering wheel tighter. Squint against the sun. “Um… how are you this morning?”
“Good.”
The line goes quiet.
So… either he’s not a big morning person or he’s still upset.
“We’re on for one, right?” I ask.
“Yes. I have a meeting in the morning, but I’ll be there.”
“Great.”
“Good.”
I search for something more to say.
Before I can come up with anything, I hear a dial tone.
Click.
I blink in astonishment.
Did he just…
Annoyance spreads through my chest. Maybe it’s because my family’s from the Caribbean, but we don’t hang up on people without the formal ‘okay, I’ll let you go now’ or ‘I’ll talk to you later’ or ‘bye’.
I chew my bottom lip in irritation.
What the hell is Brogan’s problem?
I did nothing to offend him yesterday.
Nothing.
Why is he acting like this?
Still mad, I throw my car into a parking spot and march to the elevator. As the numbers blink on the tiny monitor, I seethe.
Men!
For the life of me, I can’t understand them.
I glare at the ring on my finger.
It winks at me.
With a frustrated grunt, I tear it off and stuff it into my purse. No one at work has to know about my engagement anyway, so whatever.
The elevator doors opening wrenches me from my thoughts.
A crowd of employees climbs on, pushing me to the back of the elevator. Still in a foul mood, I jut my purse out, stabbing it into the man who’s backing up a little too close.
He shoots me a dark look over his shoulder.
I give him one right back.
The elevator closes.
Whispers fill the small room.
“Did you hear about the company take-over?”
“I heard it’s her grandson.”
“He’s hot.”
“Did you see him?”
“Yeah.”
“What does he look like?”
“Well…”
Curious, I strain to hear more, but the elevator doors open.
Everyone bleeds out.
I scrunch my nose, my mind reeling with the news. After our company founder passed away last year, her second-in-command ran the business. He promised us that there wouldn’t be any personnel changes. What if this new guy has a different set of standards?
Worried, I tap my feet and wait for the elevator to take me to the right floor. I work directly under the Head Administrative Assistant—which is just a fancy title for a glorified secretary.
As I’m a liaison for the accounts office and HR, I have the privilege of working in a tiny cubicle next to all the execs. Which… is a pretty good deal if you ask me.
The coffee up here is ten times better.
So are the pastries.
Hurrying over to Riley’s desk, I drop my purse and hiss, “What’s this about a take-over?”
“Girl,” her eyes dart to the CEO’s office, “it’s crazy. I heard them talking about a transfer of assets and marriage—”
“He’s married?”
She nods slowly. “Sad, right?”
“I heard the gossip. All the girls downstairs will be disappointed.”
“The ones up here too.”
“What’s he like?”
“He’s so… intense.” She frowns. “My hands were shaking when I served them coffee. And when he pinned those blue eyes on me, I wanted to hide under a rock.”
“He looks mean?” I shudder. It’s hard enough dealing with a cold Brogan on my downtime, now I have to deal with a version of that at work?
“No, not mean. Just…” She shrugs. “Hard. Like he’s seen too much crap to tolerate it now. Does that make any sense?”
“Not really.”
The CEO’s door opens.
Laughter booms from inside the room.
“Oh shoot. They’re coming!” Riley hisses.
I scramble away from her desk and slip behind my own. Unable to resist, I lift my head and train my eyes on the door to get a glimpse of my mysterious new boss.
The CEO steps out of the office first.
He’s followed by another man.
Tall.
Red beard.
Wait.
Blue eyes.
Familiar blue eyes.
What the hell?
Those eyes slam into mine.
Widen.
My mouth falls open.
Holy crap.
My new boss… is my new husband.
Nine
Brogan
My eyes slam into Elizabeth’s.
My steps stall.
What is she doing here?
I take in her shocked expression. Her long, white-sleeved blouse. The flared pants. The pink shoes.
She’s dressed for work.
But that can’t be right.
There’s no way she works for this company.
The world isn’t that freaking small…
“Brogan?” Levy waves a hand in front of my face.
I startle. Try to focus on him.
It’s too late.
His eyes move in Elizabeth’s direction.
I see the wheels turning behind those big brown eyes.
My jaw clenches.
I grit my teeth.
No, Levy! Don’t—
“I knew the name on the marriage certificate looked familiar!” Levy bellows for the building, the downtown commuters and probably the man on the moon to hear. “Elizabeth’s your wife? Our Elizabeth?”
A startled silence falls on the room.
The secretary—I forgot what her name was—draws a frightened gaze over her shoulder. As her eyes dart back and forth between me and Elizabeth, I imagine she’s thinking of whom to share this particularly juicy tidbit first.
There’s no way this will stay within the room.
I’ll be surprised if the whole staff isn’t informed by lunch.
Levy stalks across the office. “Congratulations.” His head whips back to take me in. “You two…!” He laughs. “Wow! This is fabulous!”
“Thanks.” Elizabeth cringes and sets her hand on the desk.
There’s no ring on her finger.
I arch an eyebrow.
She meets my gaze. Pushes out her bottom lip in an aggravated what?
I lift my chin subtly where’s the ring?
Her top lip curls up none of your business.
Levy notices her bare ring finger too. Whirling around, he pins me with a furious look. “You didn’t even buy her a damn ring, Brogan? Don’t you know anything?”
“I…”
“It’s my fault,” Elizabeth says. “I actually wanted to keep the news to myself for a bit, but I guess the cat’s out of the bag.” She lets loose a hollow laugh that convinces absolutely no one.
Levy blinks.
“I’ll keep it quiet,” the secretary promises, lying through her teeth.
Elizabeth’s pained smile says she believes her co-worker as much as I do.
“Now that you have our word that this won’t spread beyond this office—right Riley?” Levy gives the secretary a stern look.
She does a salute over her chest. “Cross my heart.”
How reassuring.
“I’d love to hear the story,” Levy says.
“Story?” My gaze finds Elizabeth’s.
She scrunches her nose.
“Yeah. How you got together. How it happened?”
“Levy…” I growl out a warning. He knows good and well that Elizabeth and I didn’t fall in love and that we married for my inheritance. Why the hell is he acting a fool?
“I’m sure it was… unique.” He chuckles.
Eliz
abeth’s skin has turned a shade paler than its usual light brown. She looks on the verge of a full-blown panic.
“How about we save that story for another day?” Reaching out, I grab Elizabeth’s hand and lug her past Levy, past the secretary and into my grandmother’s old office. When the door closes firmly behind me, I let her go.
Elizabeth’s eyes blaze. “Why didn’t you tell me you were Ms. Eldrina’s grandson?”
“Why didn’t you tell me you worked here?”
“This is bad. Very bad.”
“You think?”
“Do you have to stay here?” She tilts her head and begs, “Can’t you just… go somewhere else?”
No.
No, I can’t.
Levy agreed to give me my grandmother’s position. That comes with my grandmother’s pay. I can use my salary to tide the hospital bills over until the week is up.
It’s not the best solution.
But it’s the only one I’ve got.
“I’m sure you can work at the Hawaii offices. I’ve heard Maui is absolutely stunning.” She bobs her head. “Yeah, that’s a great idea. Go to Hawaii.”
I narrow my eyes. “Why don’t you go to Hawaii? Like you said, it’s a beautiful place.”
“You think you’re funny?”
“Does it look like I’m in the mood to crack jokes?”
She huffs out a breath.
Her eyes spit lightning.
I’m pissing her off.
But I’m not exactly skipping on rainbows right now either.
“Look, this just got a little more complicated.” She pushes a hand over her forehead and crushes her thick curls beneath her palms. “I was hoping I wouldn’t have to fake it at work, but if that’s what we have to do then…” She sighs. Straightens her shoulders. Meets my eyes. “We’ll find a way to survive.”
“Why do we have to fake it? We can just avoid each other.”
She slants me a you’ve got to be kidding look. “Everyone knows we’re married, Brogan.”
“So?”
“So, we can’t just avoid each other. What if word gets back to my parents?” She stumbles back. “Oh no. My parents. They’re totally finding out about this.”
A headache brews in the base of my skull.
I rub my temple. “Just calm down.”
“Calm down?” She hisses. “It wasn’t supposed to be this hard. It wasn’t—I didn’t sign up for all this. I just wanted a date to my cousin’s wedding.” Her chest heaves. She falls against the desk. “Now I’m… everyone at work. When we divorce—this is so embarrassing.”
