“You son of a bitch. You drag me into the deal because of some stupid coincidence and completely steamroll my life. Now you’re telling me that we’re going to my mother’s country, which I’ve never been to, and we’ll obviously be gone for a while. What am I supposed to tell Matheson? What am I supposed to tell my team?! I can’t just pick up and leave! God, you never think about anyone but yourself, do you?! If it weren’t for my father—” Jada cut herself off before she revealed yet another weakness to the man across from her.
“I’ve already emailed your coworkers for you. You’re away visiting your parents in Arizona and may be gone for a few days. And what about your father?”
“Just forget it.” A flaming pit was forming inside Jada’s belly, and she was sure that if it was stoked much more by the arrogant asshole sitting across from her, she’d not only set the car on fire but the whole damn world as well.
The car went silent, but the tension in the air made it hum with hostility. It remained that way for the duration of their drive to the airport. Of course, Jackson had his own private jet and takeoff spot set aside from the crowd.
When they got out, Jacques retrieved their bags and they were quickly scanned by the special staff surrounding Jackson’s private jet. The entire time, Jada felt like another piece of Jackson’s luggage. They didn’t speak and barely looked at each other.
She was traveling to her mother’s country without her mother, without her family. She was going to see the land whose culture she had been raised to respect and celebrate, and she was going with some douche who just wanted to make a few billions more.
Finally on the plane, Jada took a spot at the rear of the fabulous jet, and Jackson parked his good-for-nothing ass in a seat at the front. The captain chimed in over the speaker system and, forgoing the traditional security talk, told them that the flight would last some 15 hours and the local weather in Qaresma was in the high seventies. There was not a bit of excitement anywhere in Jada’s body, and it felt wrong. She was visiting the country of her mother’s people, going to the capital in fact, and she was dreading every minute of it.
Plus, she’d never been a stellar flyer, and this was such a small plane. Thankfully, the takeoff was relatively smooth, and they were up in the air in about ten minutes. Jada pulled up the shade on her window and looked out at the white clouds dusting the sky. It was quiet except for the buzz of the engines, and staring at the fluffy masses in the blue sky was almost peaceful. The world below her looked small and insignificant, and Jada silently remarked on how similar she felt.
Fifteen hours was a lot of time to kill, and Jada tried to read for a bit, but her mind was too busy with thoughts of wedding details and infuriating CEOs. The seat she was in leaned back all the way until it was flat, and Jada used the opportunity to sleep. She hadn’t done much of it that night, so this seemed as good an opportunity as any to catch up.
It apparently worked, because the next thing she knew, Jada was waking up to the captain announcing that they had arrived. As she stretched, Jada looked out the window of the jet. They were near the water, and she nearly cried out as she took in the beauty of the azure sea and its pristine beach. Despite her anger, Jada marveled at the shimmering waves caressing the shore.
Her mother had described this land so many times, and it was impossible to believe she was actually there. Jada’s heart broke a little further at the thought, and the image of her mom’s slender form clutching her dad’s hand was the only thing that kept Jada true to her agreement with the head of JPH Tech.
The time to get off had come, though, and Jada stood from her chair and followed her jackass boss out onto the tarmac. There was another limo waiting for them, and a Middle-Eastern version of Jacques waited to take their bags. The light outside the plane was almost blinding, and Jada was so jet-lagged, she let the driver open the door for her without argument. She slid inside the comforting darkness of the limo and secluded herself in the front half. Jackson climbed in after and sat at the rear.
Thanks to hours of breathing recycled air, Jada was feeling stuffed up and claustrophobic. She slid over to the window and rolled down the tinted glass. The light was a bit difficult to get used to, but the fresh air was amazing. As they drove, Jada wondered at the beautiful, historic buildings they passed. The town became more modern as they drove further in, and Jackson had taken up talking on the phone.
From what she could hear, Jada’s boss was confirming the delivery of the flowers, cake, and dress to the venue. She couldn’t have cared less about them now, but she liked the idea of again wearing the dress she had picked out. It looked damn good on her, and she’d be damned if she wasn’t going to enjoy looking like a movie star for five minutes.
Jada let her head fall back on the seat’s headrest as the limo carried them deep into the heart of the city. When it finally arrived at its destination, Jada was horrified to see they had pulled up to an ugly gray administrative building. It could have been any American city hall, and Jada bit her lip to avoid screaming her distaste. Why on earth had Jackson felt the need to take her on all those stupid outings if this is what he had planned? Why did a cake or flowers or a dress even matter?
Chapter Fourteen
Jada and Jackson were led out of the car and to the building, where they were pointed in the direction of their separate dressing rooms. Inside Jada’s room her dress was hanging up on the bathroom door, the bouquet of irises set in a glass of water on a small table, and the shoes she’d picked out placed under the dress. In that moment, staring around the ugly gray room inside the ugly gray building, Jada’s anger turned to sadness. She’d dreamed of this day, her wedding day, and this was it?
Wasn’t a bride supposed to be thrilled? Wasn’t the site of the ceremony supposed to fill her with joy? Wasn’t she supposed to like the guy she was marrying? Sure, he’d had that one moment, but apparently that had been a fluke. This Jackson who was with her today was a tool and a half.
Jada solemnly reminded herself of her father’s situation as she set her bag down on a chair. She couldn’t lose him, and at the end of this day, she’d be given the chance to save his life, to do something with hers, and she’d never have to talk to old Jack-ass again. Her lawyer could handle the eventual divorce, and with that thought in mind, Jada began to get changed.
She pulled out the tiny underwear she needed and stripped out of her travel clothes. The air was cool, the silk of her wedding dress even cooler. Jada shivered in place, and gooseflesh rippled across her tan skin. She rubbed her hands on her arms and then stared at her left hand. She had no engagement ring, and there would never be one. She wondered if there’d even be a wedding band. Probably not, she thought, since this isn’t really happening.
Once the dress was in place, Jada slipped on her shoes and walked to the bathroom to arrange her hair. The room was dingy and the mirror was cloudy with age. She could barely see herself in the yellowing glass. Jada tried to wipe it off with a dry towel; it helped a bit, but there was no changing the reality of the mirror.
With her workstation limited, Jada did the best she could with her hair. She’d decided on half up, half down, as her curls wouldn’t be tamed thanks to the humidity in the air. Having applied simple makeup, she took the bouquet from the glass of water. The stems dripped in her hand, and she dabbed at the ends with the small towel from the bathroom.
Satisfied that the flowers wouldn’t keep dripping, Jada patted down her dress, performed a few quick adjustments to her hair and face, and then looked herself over. If it weren’t for the look on her face, she’d have looked amazing. The dress was perfect, fitted to her exact measurements, and the simple hairstyle and makeup complimented the sleek shape of the gown. Her tan skin contrasted with the ivory fabric, and the unruly curls around her face lent an air of sweetness. Too bad she was miserable.
The building was quiet, and as Jada stepped out into the hall, a man in a simple suit directed her where to go. She followed him, her long ivory gown gliding behind he
r, her heels clicking loudly on the stone floor. They finally reached one of the main rooms, where Jackson stood waiting next to a judge at the head of the space.
He had changed as well, and even through her fury, Jada couldn’t help but be impressed. He was indeed wearing a tuxedo, and the man cleaned up nicely. The tux was simple, a match to her style of gown, and the white tie against his white shirt looked clean and precise. Sunlight shone in through a window to the right and it lit up his face, making his blue eyes shine. It was just like her sketch.
Jada walked with slow, deliberate steps toward Jackson and the officiant. When she reached them, there was no crowd to sit down to mark her arrival. She and Jackson turned and focused on what she assumed was a judge. His words were direct and plain as he read from his book in a monotone. He had no idea who they were, and yet he was marrying them.
Jada tried to focus on the officiant’s words. He stated that he was there to conduct a marriage for which the license would be signed after their vows. Jada hadn’t even thought about vows. As a young girl, she’d written vows as she believed they should be. She’d been about thirteen, and they were mostly about how the man would always be there for her and always encourage her to go after her dreams—repeats of the words her father so often spoke to her. She’d even kept them. Jada had planned on reading them when she got married.
The judge didn’t know that. Jackson didn’t know that.
She’d never be able to come up with something to say, but it didn’t matter since the judge spoke generic vows that they were each to repeat line for line. Jackson went first and went quickly.
As her turn came, Jada looked down at the bundle of irises in her hands. They were lovely, so purple and fresh. The smell was strong too, wafting up to her nose and filling her senses with images of spring and sunny meadows. The repeated words left her mouth without much thought.
“In sickness and in health.”
Her dress somehow managed to shine in the fluorescent light of the administrative building. The silk shimmered like it had been spun by the hands of fairies who dreamed of dressing a woman on her most important day.
“For richer or poorer.”
She looked at the faces of the men in front of her; neither one was smiling. The judge read from his book and waited for a response. Jackson just stared at her.
“For better or worse.”
The judge reached the end of his words and looked up at her as he made his final inquiry. Did she take this man to be her lawfully wedded husband?
“I do.” Jada’s voice was small.
“Then by the power vested in me by the Qaresman government and this court of law, I pronounce you husband and wife.”
They didn’t kiss. Instead, they turned to a table where an official paper sat waiting and signed the marriage license. The driver and a secretary acted as their witnesses, their own signatures needed underneath hers and Jackson’s to make it official. The room was quiet, and Jada could hear the thud of her heart in her ears, so loud it was giving her a headache.
Her family was nowhere to be found, the sweet faces of her mother and father painfully absent. There was no applause, no joyful hollering. She didn’t hear the traditional “iii-eee!” of her aunt. Rice or petals weren’t being thrown as they exited a church smiling and laughing as the silly traditions rained over them. Jada wasn’t giddy, and her husband wasn’t so overjoyed that he kept kissing her.
The room was just quiet, the scratching of the pen the loudest sound.
Jada’s eyes began to burn, a prickling at the corners. In moments, she’d be crying, and they wouldn’t be tears of happiness. It was done; her part was over. The ceremony was over. Jada had worn this dress and looked so pretty for a ceremony that had lasted less than ten minutes.
She looked over at Jackson and couldn’t stand it. His face was unreadable. He was just staring. A door was open behind him, and she saw the beach nearby, the waves lapping slowly against the shore. Jada looked down at herself, and the first of the tears finally broke through her composure and fell on the petals of the irises she’d chosen with such care.
Letting her bouquet fall to the ground, Jada ran out of the building, toward the blue water.
As she approached the beach, she kicked off her shoes and ran to the wet sand at the ocean’s border. The sand was hot from the sun, but the wet particles were cool and left obvious footprints. She ran down the edge of the water until she couldn’t breathe. The sound of the waves beating on the shore echoed in ears, and her hands squeezed down on the fabric of her dress, which she’d gathered up in order to sprint.
Exertion making her tired, she stopped and slowly stumbled over to the warm, dry sand farther inland. Even with everything that had happened, she couldn’t bring herself to ruin the dress by dragging the train through wet sand. It would be safer on dry land.
The area was quiet, being the middle of a work day, and no one was around to see Jada break down. She had tried so hard to hold it in, but the tears and the frustration were too strong, and they shot out of her like a bullet from a gun. A bench sat near the far side of the beach, close to a parking area, and Jada walked over to it. She sat down, and the stone was warm.
The landscape became a blur as she cried tears she’d held in for so long. Her father was dying. She had married a man for money—to save her father’s life, sure, but it was still so wrong. Her wedding day had been a mockery of what it was meant to be, and here she was crying, wearing thousands of dollars’ worth of material on a public beach’s bench. The raking sobs pulled all the energy out of her, and after a few moments, she was left with a heartache and headache, plus a stuffy nose.
As she stared down at her hands resting on her knees, Jada heard a sound down the beach.
She looked up to see that Jackson, her husband, was running over to her. His tux jacket was gone, as were his shoes, and he looked angry. Of course he did. After all, she’d just made a fool out of him by running out of a government building. He was probably furious with her. Well, he could shove it.
“What do you want? Couldn’t you just leave me alone?!” Jada was surprised she had the energy left to be angry.
Jackson was a few feet from her when he froze at her words. He looked stunned for a moment, but his pride got the best of him and he walked closer so he could chew her out properly.
“Jada”—here it comes—“what’s wrong?” Jackson knelt down in the sand in front of her. That was going to ruin his suit.
Then she realized he’d asked her what was wrong.
“Are you serious?” Jada shot up off the bench.
“Would you stop yelling at me? I just wanted to know if you’re okay.”
“Of course I’m not okay! I just married a guy for money, and there wasn’t even a ceremony! Not that I expected more from you.” Jada started pacing back and forth, then. “You know, I can’t believe I thought this was going to work. You’re so obsessed with this stupid deal, and you don’t care who gets hurt in the process. I should never have agreed to this. You don’t care about me, and why should you? We don’t even know each other. But then you got all sweet with that orphan crap, which you probably just made up, and I totally bought it. How pathetic is that?! I just want—”
“What?! What do you want?!”
“You know what I want. I want my dad to be okay. Some fucking disease is eating away his kidneys, and I want him to be all right. I want for him to get his transplant and for me to actually have a way to pay for it. That’s why I did this! I want to leave that stupid company of yours and never come back! I want to paint and sketch and use my talents for something besides selling a fucking product!
“I want a life that’s my own, where I don’t have to be told what to do by another dude with a god complex! I want a life, a real fucking life, with someone who loves me because I’m loud and brash and real, and because they just do! I want to marry a man who knows that I’ve had vows written since I was thirteen! I want to marry to a man who knows that I hate ho
rror movies and clowns and fancy haircuts. Who knows that I love stubble and sleeping on Sundays and shopping at thrift stores! A man who doesn’t think that money is everything!”
Drained of any strength she’d had left, Jada’s knees buckled and she hit the sand with a thud. Tears had begun to pour from her eyes again, and she breathed like she’d just run a marathon. But she was apparently not finished.
“I want to understand why I started sketching again when I saw your face. Why I did such a good job on it and brought it home to place on my nightstand. I want to understand what the fuck my heart was thinking the other night. We were just talking, and you actually sounded like a person, and then there was dancing and I got all confused. But you shut me out and pulled back so hard I still have whiplash. I was actually starting to think I liked you, like a lot, and you did that dumb lunch thing like you’d actually listened to me. And I started to feel, well, things. Things I’ve never felt before. I know it’s ridiculous, but there it is. And you just flipped this switch and were the old you again. I want the money to pay for my dad’s surgery, but I’m starting to really feel like this wasn’t worth it. We got to that awful building and the ceremony was just as awful as I’d thought it would be, and I just couldn’t take it.”
She looked up at him, tears making her eyes glisten.
“I just don’t get it. If it was always just an administrative procedure to you, why did you arrange all those little meet-ups? Why am I wearing this dress? Why were there flowers?”
Jackson was quite for a long while but didn’t break eye contact with her. After what seemed like weeks, Jackson knelt down. He slowly lifted a hand to Jada’s face, taking his time to make sure it was okay. To be honest, she couldn’t have fought him if she’d wanted to. His rough thumb rubbed under each of her eyes, wiping up the mess her tears had caused.
Fake It For Me - A Fake Wife Billionaire Romance Page 47
