Fallacy

by K. A. Berg

  “He’s such a scumbag piece of shit!” I yell, running my hands through my hair. “He’s only doing this because he can. He knows I want to see him out and take his place. He’s doing what he can to make my life hell while he has the chance.”

  Jordan grabs my hand and squeezes. “Relax,” he commands. “What do you want to do?”

  “He’s not giving me a choice,” I confess, heaving out a defeated sigh. “I can live with paying for my apartment, which he said he’ll stop paying for as well, but I don’t know if I can live with him pulling the legacy of Taylor Ventures away from me. I probably could, but I can’t let him ruin my reputation. It’s all I’ve ever worked for.” I can’t force myself to believe he wouldn’t actually try to throw me in jail.

  I glance at Jordan to see if I can read his thoughts, but his face is focused on mine as if he’s trying to do the same thing. If we actually go through with this bogus marriage, I can help him and help myself at the same time, but I can also spite my father in the process.

  A few different ideas start whirling around inside my head. “If we do this,” I say, trying to explain my thought process, “I can help you with your dad, and I can keep on my journey to CEO. We can merge together and try to force my dad out, waiting until it could benefit us the most, putting it on our timeline, not his. We can make this about us and not him.”

  A shocked look crosses Jordan’s face. “It sounds like you’re saying you want to go through with getting married.”

  Is that what I’m saying? My brain is in overdrive. Am I really going to agree to this?

  My head starts nodding before my mind has fully committed to the idea, “Yes.”

  “You want to get married?” he asks again.

  This time, I’ve made up my mind before answering. “Yes.”

  “You’re sure?” he reiterates.

  “Yeah, but nothing crazy or anything. No fanfare, no grand gestures,” I confirm. “This isn’t real.” I don’t need all of that.

  “Don’t be ridiculous, Quinn,” he shakes his head. “If we’re going to do this, we’re going to do it right. We can’t half ass this. People are going to ask questions about how we met, when did you know it was love, how did he pop the question, all that. People, especially my parents, aren’t going to believe this if we don’t act like it’s real. You see how close I am with them.”

  I haven’t given much thought to any of that. I never thought my father could actually get me to do this, so there was never a reason to think about how much would be involved in a marriage like this. So many things need to be decided. I have to plan a whole relationship out plus a wedding. I close my eyes and take a deep breath. How much can one person handle before they break?

  The silence in the room is deafening, neither of us saying anything more for the moment. I get up to pour myself another glass of wine and Jordan follows. A million things are running through my mind right now. I have much more than fabricating a romance to worry about. My eyes need to be open to everything until the day I marry Jordan. Seems I have no idea what my father is capable of. I need to hash everything out today. I can’t afford to have this consuming me. The last thing I need to do right now is fuck up at work. Everything’s almost in my grasp. I can’t let it slip through my fingers by not being on my A game.

  “You seem pretty stressed,” he says, leaning up against the counter and fixing his eyes on me.

  “Yes, well, I kind of jumped into things without thinking it through. We have a lot to figure out and I don’t like unresolved things,” I huff, sagging back against the counter next to him. “But can we at least eat while we do it?” I need a distraction.

  Jordan pulls a bunch of takeout menus from the drawer and we glance through them. After ordering some Tex-Mex from the place around the corner, I grab a legal pad and pen off of Jordan’s desk in the corner of the living room and head back to the couch.

  “Okay,” I write numbers down the side of the paper starting a list. “There are some things we need to discuss before we have the prenup drawn up.”

  “All right,” he replies giving me a little chuckle. I don’t know what’s funny. “Hit me.”

  “First… I’m pretty sure we’ll agree on this. Everything we bring to the marriage, we leave the marriage with. Whatever assets we have, which we’ll need to make a detailed list of, are ours solely.”

  “Agreed,” he nods. “Next?”

  “Anything we accumulate together after we get married, we split. When we structure the company, we’ll each have equal shares, and that’s how it will remain unless one of us wants to buy the other out. But I don’t foresee us splitting in an angry manner. We could still run things together.” This isn’t a real marriage. I don’t see anyone doing something to the other that would cause us to hate one another and go to war.

  “Of course,” Jordan just nods amicably.

  “We need to decide where we want to live and what happens to the other residence. But I don’t think we have to decide right now. I’m sure our lawyers can handle it.”

  “We don’t have to decide right now, you’re right. But I would like you to consider moving to the city with me. It’s just easier, commuting wise,” he points out.

  “I agree. But let’s not make any decisions on that right now. But we should discuss basic living arrangements. We don’t have a romantic relationship. I think we should have our own bedrooms.”

  Jordan’s face scrunches a little bit as if he doesn’t agree, but then he says, “Okay.” I’m not sure what the deal with his little hesitation is, but I can’t focus on it right this second.

  “I don’t expect you to stop seeing people, but we do need to have some common decency. I think it’s best if we respect each other and not bring anyone home with us.” This is a big one for me. I know he’s going to be getting it from somewhere, I just don’t want him to being doing it while I’m in the next room. I’d like to feel comfortable in my home at all times.

  “It won’t be a problem,” he replies swiftly. He probably doesn’t bring his bedmates home anyway. If I was a guy, I wouldn’t. Who wants some clingy chick who can’t take no for answer knowing where they live? And sex has been total shit for me lately. I’m better off spending time with my vibrator.

  “And we should also make sure we use discretion, too. We don’t need to embarrass each other by flaunting it,” I add. I don’t want to be humiliated by him nor do I want to humiliate him.

  “Again, you don’t need to worry about it with me.” His face is sterner this time. I guess he’s on the same page with me there.

  “Should we meet someone we want to be with, and I mean, really be with before the merger is complete, then we need to readdress this topic.” Hopefully, that doesn’t happen, or if it does, it comes when everything is almost finished. I don’t know what my dad would do if we didn’t merge after getting married. Would he still try to send me to jail? I could always get a job with Jordan, then he couldn’t completely ruin me anymore. Jordan would be able to vouch for me.

  I get a single head nod again. This is a lot easier than I thought it was going to be.

  The doorbell rings, momentarily distracting us. “I’ll get it,” Jordan says, hopping up off the couch quickly.

  We sort things out with the delivery guy and settle back in with our food in relative silence. It seems like we both need a few minutes to regroup. I stare at the food sitting on my lap but my stomach rolls at the actual thought of eating. My brain refuses to think of anything other than the threat of prison. Even with Jordan on board with helping me, I can’t settle my fear.

  I wait until Jordan’s halfway through his meal before getting back into all the details. At least one of us should get to eat. “Is there anything you’d add to this? I know most of this is regular stuff, but is there anything else you want to be added to it specifically?”

  Setting his white takeout container down on the coffee table, he turns to me and asks, “Do you think we need to add something about having to st
ay married a certain period of time before we can part?”

  I shake my head while I finish chewing. “I don’t think so. I think we’ll be okay if we have something in there saying we’ll stay together until the merger is complete. We can do that at least.”

  “I know your motives for doing this are the merger and getting your dad off your back, but mine is different. While I have no problem with merging companies—it’s a great move—my priority is my family. My father is dying. Our marriage timeline needs to revolve around that too.” He gets serious.

  “Okay, that’s kind of vague. Can you give me a little more?” I ask. Now is not the time to assume anything or be afraid to ask questions.

  Jordan’s eyes lock on mine as he answers. “The purpose of this from my angle is giving my father the family he wants for me. We can’t get divorced before he passes. What if by some miracle he outlasts the time it takes to complete the merger? And then it’s not like we can get divorced right after he’s gone. I won’t do that to my mother. I just want you to know this may have to last past the merger.”

  I hadn’t even considered any of this. “You’re right. You’re not just doing me a favor. What else do you need from me for your part?”

  “This needs to look real to people, especially my parents,” Jordan continues. “We’re involved in a lot of charities. My mother heads a few and I’ve always attended the various functions. You’ll need to be there with me for this to work. It’s something that means a lot to us. My mother always told me to leave the world a better place than I found it, and I try to accomplish that through giving back.”

  I hate red-carpet events. “How many are we talking?”

  “I only go to about one a month, I think? I never really counted before. Why? Is it a problem?”

  Trying to keep the disdain out of my voice, I reply, “No. I’m just not a big fan of those types of events, that’s all.”

  “Hate to break it to you, but my family is big on events and family time. I know you aren’t used to being close to family, but for this to work, you’re going to have to meet me halfway on this one. How about we cut down the number of events, making a bigger donation in lieu of attendance until you get used it. How’s that?” he compromises.

  “All right,” I concede. He’s right. In order for this to work, it has to appear real. We have to do things together. It’s what real couples do, right?

  “We do two family vacations a year. Hamptons, which is next month for the fourth of July and Aspen for Christmas.”

  “Okay.” Vacations don’t seem too bad. I’m actually wondering what a family vacation for families who care about each other is like.

  “What about you?” he asks. “Do you have anything else you want to add?”

  “No,” I say. “I think we’ve covered mostly everything. Anything we missed, I’m sure the legal teams will address.”

  We finish lunch with lighter conversation and decide to leave planning our “love story” until tomorrow. We’ve already covered a lot, and I need a break from all this for a little bit. “Are you feeling better now?” Jordan asks as we make our way to the door for me to leave.

  “Yes,” I sigh. “I’m usually a planner and like to have my ducks in a row. When I realized how much I hadn’t thought about prior to agreeing to do this thing, I had a minor panic attack. Can’t have that when my father is breathing down my neck more than usual.”

  “No worries,” he smiles. “The last thing I want is for you to be stressed out right now. I’m glad you said something. I don’t want either one of us to have any lingering doubts.”

  “Thank you for understanding.” I return his smile. It should be fairly easy to marry and live with this man. He’s really such a good guy. I’m surprised someone hasn’t tried to stick around and tie him down already. Seems like being the one to tame the bad boy is something a lot of women are into.

  “Have a great night, babe,” he kisses my cheek before I head out the door.

  I’m curling up on the couch drinking a cup of hot chocolate, watching the housewives who give Jersey women a bad name, trying to forget all about this day, when I hear a loud knock on my door.

  I fling off my blanket, head to the door and check the peephole.

  Jordan.

  “Hey, is everything…”

  My words are stuck in my throat because Jordan is standing in my doorway holding a blue velvet box encasing a gorgeous vintage engagement ring that’s at least five karats.

  “I know you didn’t want a proposal, but fake or not, you deserve one. I’m compromising. I won’t get down on one knee, but I am going to ask you. I wouldn’t be the man I like to think I am if I didn’t. Quinn Taylor, will you marry me?”

  My hand flies to my mouth, stifling the gasp escaping past my lips. I can’t believe he was thoughtful enough to do something like this. I didn’t need or really want it, but now that’s he’s doing it, I can’t help but be happy.

  “Yes.” As soon as the word leaves my mouth, Jordan slides the ring on my finger with a smile on his face.

  “It’s beautiful,” I tell him.

  “It’s my grandmother’s,” he says, shocking me. “My mother offered it to me a few weeks ago. She said she had a feeling I would need it soon and thought it would be nice to pass this down.”

  “Holy shit,” I exclaim staring down at the beauty sitting on my fourth finger. “I can’t take this.”

  “You have to,” he beams at me. “It’s a family tradition.”

  “Well, I just found something else to add to the prenup. You’re definitely getting this back when we get divorced.”

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  Alex

  “Come on, don’t you two ever stop that shit?” I ask as I walk through the garage entrance of Tanner and Ashley’s house. I’m excited to see Ashley. She’s pregnant again and I haven’t seen her since Father’s Day. She’s about to have this baby any day, and I can’t wait to meet my niece.

  “Well, that’s what you get when you don’t knock like regular people,” Tanner says with a smirk.

  “You don’t seem too interested in keeping people out if you still have the same alarm code,” I toss back as I wrap Ashley up in an enormous hug just to piss him off. He doesn’t care who’s touching his wife, it always pisses him off—even if it’s me.

  “Alex!” she shrieks, fueling his anger even more. “I’ve missed you so much.”

  I smile down at her and place my hands on her gigantic belly. “You look beautiful, Ashley. When is this little beauty going to make her appearance?”

  “Three weeks ago would’ve been good.” Ashley smiles big before letting out a little giggle.

  “Okay, Romeo, you ready to head out?” Tanner interjects. I guess he’s had enough of my hands on his wife’s body, even if it’s the part of her housing his baby.

  “You okay?” I ask after Tanner heaves out a sigh as we make our way out of his driveway.

  “Yeah, it’s just nice to have some guy time, you know? Don’t get me wrong, I love Ashley, but everything I do lately seems to piss her off. So, for the next few hours at least, I don’t have to watch my every move afraid I’m going to do something else to make her mad.” Poor guy! I imagine this part of the pregnancy is rough for Ashley.

  It won’t stop me from ribbing him, though. “She seemed fine to me,” I chuckle.

  “Yeah, because you didn’t knock her up. And she misses you.” He sighs again. “I miss you, man.”

  “I miss you guys too.”

  “Enough to accept the job?” he asks, his hopefulness evident in his voice.

  “I love it in Arizona, but it’s not home, you know? Things aren’t the same when you don’t have the people you care about around.” I’m glad I took the job there. It was a huge step for me in my career. It’s paid off too. I’m being pursued by my original team who two years ago, I never thought would offer me such a great opportunity at this point. But it doesn’t mean I don’t miss what little family I have left he
re in Tanner and his family.

  “And by people you care about, do you mean us or Quinn?” he asks. He never brings up Quinn, which I’ve always been thankful for. I just wonder why he’s asking now. Especially with my thoughts of trying to work through things with her when I come back here permanently. My feelings toward her are a mess.

  “You guys. It’s hard to care about people who don’t care about you.” I feel the disdain seep into my voice as I say it out loud to him for the first time. Despite my lingering love for her, anger always takes precedence when thinking about Quinn. I have no closure. And it makes me fucking furious. I deserve that at least.

  “Well, sometimes it’s hard to show people you care about them from the other side of the country.”

  “I loved her. The lack of caring didn’t come from me,” I growl harshly.

  “How was I supposed to know, man? It’s not like you ever told me what happened with you two,” he replies defensively. And he’s right. I never told Ashley or Tanner what actually happened between us. At first, I didn’t say anything because I was angry. Then I was just numb, really. I didn’t want to think about her. I never talked about it, and he didn’t bring it up.

  “I don’t even know what happened to us!” I blurt out, frustrated. This is all I’ve been thinking about for a few weeks while trying to decide what the hell to do. With Quinn. With the job offer. “Everything was great, and then boom, she wants nothing to do with me. It’s all the explanation I got. Even when I pressed for more, she shut me out. She quit us cold turkey. We were together for two years and then done. That’s it. What the hell is anyone supposed to make of that?” A slight pain starts to creep into my chest remembering the way she broke up with me and vanished.

  “I’m sorry. That has to be rough.”

  It’s the truth. It’s why I’m thankful I at least found Tiffany. She has helped me try to work through some of the shit in my head regarding Quinn.