Livie came over and sat down next to me. “Hear me out. Last night–”
“You did not come home.” I grinned when she scowled at me. It was a shaky smile, but I managed. This had to have something to do with last night's events.
“A young man came into a bar for a drink. He passed out and I took him home. I stayed to ensure he was safe.”
My grin widened and I wiggled my eyebrows at her. I knew nothing had happened. My sister did not go home with strange men or have one-night stands. It didn't make teasing her any less fun.
She glared at me as she went on with her story. “This morning, his father came to see him. The young man, Blayne Westmore, was given an ultimatum by his father. To marry or lose his inheritance. For some unknown reason, Blayne told his father that I was his fiancée.”
I stared at her. It was like something out of a soap opera. It still didn't explain, though, why she had said she was getting married.
“He came back this evening,” she said. “And proposed.”
I couldn't find the English words for what I wanted to say so I switched to our native language. “You must be joking.”
She shook her head and held out her hand. There, on her left ring finger, was the most beautiful ring I had ever seen. It was elegant and expensive. I let out a low whistle and grabbed her hand, looking at it from every angle.
“It is not romance, Kat,” she said firmly. “It is a business arrangement.”
I dropped her hand. “Explain.”
“He has agreed to pay me handsomely to marry him and maintain the lie that he told his father this morning.”
Anger flared sharply and I couldn't keep going in English. “What the hell, Livie? You were angry with me for suggesting we marry someone through an agency to secure our green cards and instead you agree to marry some random guy from a bar?”
She waited until I was done. “We have a contract,” she said. “Or at least we shall. It will be signed before the wedding on Saturday.”
My head was spinning. Had she just said she was getting married on Saturday?
“There will be no physical contact between us,” she assured me. “I am not prostituting myself. It is marriage only.”
And then she told me how much he was going to pay.
“You are going to marry this stranger?” I asked.
“Blayne Westmore,” she repeated his name.
This time, the last name clicked. “Westmore?” My eyes widened as the rest of the name registered. I let out a string of curse words in both languages.
Now it was her turn to look confused.
“Blayne Westmore is a womanizer,” I said. “He known for drinking, drugs and sleeping with all kinds of women.”
She laughed. It wasn't a full laugh, but an amused one. It was better than nothing though. “He passed out on the bar. I did not think he was a white knight, Katka.” She looked down at the ring. “You are the one who believes in such things. The one who believes in her charming prince.”
“Prince Charming,” I corrected. “And I still do not think this is a good idea.”
“I am a capable woman,” she said. “I know what I am doing.”
“And where will you live?” I asked. “Have you thought of that? If you are to convince his family that you are indeed married, you will need to live with him.”
She nodded, her eyes darting away from me, and I knew that she had already considered the living arrangements. “I will live with him, yes. He has a penthouse in the inner city and there is a guest room that will be mine.”
Sure, I thought. A guest room until he came up with some reason that she needed to sleep in his room, or he managed to 'wander into her room accidentally' and seduced her. I loved my sister and knew she had strong opinions about sex and dating. I also knew that, beneath her hard exterior, was a soft and tender heart. She was marrying Blayne for logical reasons, but I knew a part of her hadn't been able to hear a sad story and let it go. If he tried, I was sure he could manipulate her into sleeping with him.
“You can still stay here,” she continued, unaware of my thoughts. “The money he gives me on Saturday will more than cover the rent.”
“But you need it for your business.” I knew I sounded like a sullen child, but her actions worried me. She had her idea of the American dream and it was more dangerous than what she considered to be my romantic streak. I wanted to believe in true love, but I did have enough of my sister's pragmatism not to count on it. With Livie, she totally believed that her dream was attainable.
“I have already discussed this with Blayne,” she said.
I didn't like the familiar way she said his name. She didn't even know him and was talking like they were old friends... or lovers.
“The one hundred thousand dollars per year will be broken into two payments. I will receive the first half in six months, the second on our first anniversary.”
“And should he choose not to pay you?”
“When we return from our honeymoon, I will be applying for a business loan.”
I raised my eyebrow. She and I both knew how that would go.
She mirrored my expression and I caught a hint of mockery that made me smile despite myself. Whenever I caught a glimpse of the girl she had been, I couldn't help but smile.
“This time will be different,” she said. “I can use the Westmore name to secure a business loan that I will pay back with the money he pays me over the next three years.” She came over and knelt in front of me, taking my hands between hers. Her expression was earnest. “Kat, this will give us everything we have dreamed of since we were little girls. No more waiting tables or letting men leer at us while we struggle to save scraps. We will have it all.”
“But what will you need to give up for it?” I asked. I was rarely serious, but Livie's actions robbed me of my usual levity.
“Nothing,” she said dismissively. “All he wishes is for the appearance of a marriage.” Her eyes lit up. “Just think of the connections I will make as his wife.”
“They will not accept you as one of them, Livie.”
Her grip on my hands tightened minutely, the only indication that my words bothered her.
“I do not need them to consider me an equal. I will be able to design my own clothes and wear them to society and family functions.” She stood. “You will see, little Kat. This will be a great thing, for both of us.”
I knew that tone. She'd made up her mind and there would be no talking her out of it.
“I am going to shower and then I will be out to hear about your day.”
I waited until the bathroom door closed behind her before letting out a loud sigh. This was such a bad idea. Livie was smart. Like gifted smart, but I knew that didn't always translate into common sense. Most of the time she was the most grounded person I knew, but she'd always had this blind spot when it came to her idea of what our lives in America should be. Unlike a lot of the girls in the orphanage who had dreamed of coming to America, a husband had never factored into the picture, only her dream business.
I pulled my feet up onto the couch and tucked them under me as I reached for my wine glass. I emptied it and then poured myself another. I needed some time to think about this. As much as I wanted Livie to get everything she ever wanted, I didn't trust this Blayne Westmore to keep his end of the bargain. I just needed to figure out a way to convince her of this.
Before Saturday.
Chapter 12
Livie
I debated the wisdom of quitting my job before Saturday, especially with Katka constantly in my ear, telling me all of the reasons this was a bad idea. If I quit my job and Blayne decided not to go through with the marriage, I would be unemployed with no prospects. In any case, I wouldn't be able to give a proper two-week's notice because, after the wedding, Blayne and I were going on our honeymoon.
I had been surprised by that. Since this was a business arrangement, I had thought we might take a quick trip. Maybe to New York or Niagara Falls, using som
ething as an excuse to appease his father. The wedding was a quick one, but Blayne had already told me that his father had agreed that if I wanted a large ceremony, it could be arranged as well. It just had to be legal this Saturday afternoon.
Blayne had assured me that, while our hotel reservations were for the honeymoon suite, he already planned on sleeping on the living room couch that the expensive hotels always provided in their suites. Apparently, we would be spending three days in London, three in Madrid, three in Paris and three in Venice. He seemed surprised that I'd already been to all of those places, but understood once I'd explained I had worked as a model for a few years. He'd been impressed by that, and then told me he'd told his father I was a businesswoman.
That had been the perfect opportunity for me to explain my plans to him and I was pleased at how supportive he'd been. We'd had that conversation on Wednesday. On Thursday evening, when an overly friendly customer tried to grab my breast and then asked how much it would cost to sleep with me, I quit. I may not have known Blayne very well, but I knew he wouldn't call things off.
Katka hadn't been pleased about that decision either and had made a point, on Friday, of informing me that she was going to work since one of us needed employment. I believed that Blayne would come through. After all, he had more to lose than I did. I told my sister that too, but she had merely commented that if he found a woman willing to sleep with him too, what was to stop him from breaking off our engagement and marrying her.
I hadn't tried to argue with her. I knew my sister. Once she decided that she was right about something, nothing could change her mind. She wouldn't believe that Blayne was going to marry me until I had the signed certificate, our prenuptial agreement that included all of the financial things he and I had discussed – couched in terms like 'allowance' and 'alimony' – and the first check had cleared. When I'd brought the contract home to review, she'd immediately pointed out that it said nothing about me not having to sleep with him. I'd countered by indicating the section that stated the agreement was null and void in the instance of any sort of abuse, entitling me to half of everything he stood to inherit or make. I didn't even bother to add that, no matter what his reputation was, Blayne would never force himself on a woman. She argued about how I knew that. Katka had spent the remainder of the night in her room, pouting.
Saturday morning, I'd dressed in the simple, but elegant dress that Blayne had paid for. We weren't having a big ceremony, but he'd insisted I get something special to wear. If I'd had the time, I would have designed my own, but what I had chosen was almost as beautiful. My skin tone washed out in white or ivory, so I'd gone with a very, very pale blue. It was almost too pale to be called blue but it complemented my coloring much better than any shades of white would have.
I pulled my curls up into a simple but flattering twist and fastened them in place with the only sentimental thing I'd allowed myself for the day. Most everything that had belonged to our parents had been sold after their deaths, but I had managed to hold on to a pair of silver combs. Family heirlooms, they were genuine silver and studded with small sapphires. No matter how bad things had gotten, we'd never considered selling them. I'd always assumed Katka would be the one who wore them on her wedding day, who would pass them down to her daughter. She would still do that, just not first. At least the wedding part. I wasn't planning on having a child any time soon.
I pressed my hands against my stomach as butterflies fluttered nervously. Children. Blayne had explained to me that his father hadn't made an heir a requirement, for which we were both grateful. I wouldn't have been able to go through with this if it had been. As attractive as Blayne was, I didn't want to think about being required to sleep with him. I was nervous enough about having to kiss him. And that didn't even account for what it would do to bring a child into this arrangement.
At least it would be a small affair and I would be eased into meeting his family, I thought as I set my make-up on the counter. His parents would be there, of course, but out of his four siblings and their families, only his brother Samuel, sister-in-law Hannah, and their five children would be present. It still made me shake my head at the idea of nine people being less than half of a family.
I had to admit, it wasn't the Westmores' money or position that made me the most anxious. It was the prospect of being a part, even for only three years, of such a massive family. Even before our parents' death, Katka and I had come from a small family. We had no other living relatives.
I checked my make-up again, trying to be as critical as possible. I knew that Blayne's father already didn't approve of me and thought I was only in it for the money, but I wanted to make a good first impression on the others. Granted, I was getting married for the money, but not in the way Mr. Westmore was assuming.
I took a deep breath and glanced at the boxes sitting in my bedroom. Blayne had told me to only pack a small carry-on for the honeymoon. I would be able to buy whatever else I needed. That bag had been picked up an hour ago by a man named Javier who'd introduced himself as the driver who'd be taking Blayne and me straight to the airport. The boxes contained the rest of my belongings and would be moved into Blayne's penthouse while we were gone.
I didn't look at Katka's closed door. She had informed me on Friday that she would not be attending my wedding. She had to work. I knew that she purposefully scheduled herself to work, but I didn't argue with her about it. I knew she didn't approve, but I would've liked to have her there, if for nothing else but so I would have someone I knew. But, it wasn't like this was a real wedding, a day I would want her to be my maid of honor so we could celebrate the happiness together. I could not really be hurt by her refusal.
The town car Blayne had sent was waiting for me and in the backseat was a small bouquet of flowers. A card was tucked between the red roses. The handwriting was surprisingly neat. For someone like Blayne, I'd expected a messy scrawl. The message was cleverly worded. To my beautiful bride on our wedding day: You changed my life the day you agreed to marry me. May our love never change. I could almost picture the grin as Blayne wrote it, knowing full well that every word meant something different to us than it would to anyone else who read the note.
I tucked the note back into the bouquet, wedging it down so that it wouldn't spoil the look of the flowers, but I also wouldn't lose it. Just because I wasn't in love with Blayne didn't mean I didn't like him. I truly believed we would become friends over the next three years and that note would be the kind of thing we could take out and laugh over in the future.
He was waiting on the courthouse steps, looking both cold and uncomfortable in what could only have been a tailor-made tux. I took the time to appreciate the lines of the jacket and pants as I made my way up the stairs to him. I shivered when I reached him and he put his arm around my shoulders. I almost pulled away, but then realized that any man who didn't try to warm his bride-to-be would either look like a fake or an ass. I didn't want him to look like either, so I allowed the contact as he led me toward the judge's chambers.
Mr. Westmore didn't look happy, but Mrs. Westmore greeted me warmly enough. Her smile wasn't overly friendly, but she kissed my cheek and seemed sincere. Samuel was as large as Blayne and his hand swallowed mine. His wife, Hannah, was beautiful enough to have been a model had she been taller and the way she carried herself told me that she was definitely from the same class as the Westmores.
I smiled at each of the children, shaking their hands as Hannah introduced them. Jonathan, then a set of twins Addison and Madison, Francis and Prudence. All with their father's blue-gray eyes and their mother's dark hair. I could see Blayne's affection for them as he greeted them and it made the knot in my stomach ease slightly. My instincts were right. He was a good person. I was doing the right thing.
“Shall we?” The judge spoke from behind his desk.
The ceremony was simple, sticking to the basics, and then it was over and it was time for us to kiss. Blayne's eyes met mine and I saw a variety of emotions swirling
in the dark gray. I was all too aware of the audience we had and my heart was racing, but I knew I couldn't tell him to stop. It was too late. I was in this now.
His hands were surprisingly gentle as he cupped my face and then his lips were on mine. His mouth was firm as he parted my lips. A flare of panic went through me as I waited for his tongue to force its way inside, but it didn't. He made it more real than a brush of mouths would have been, but never crossed the line. When he pulled back, I opened my eyes and I could see the question in his eyes, asking if I was okay. I gave him a slight nod and then smiled as I turned toward his family. I felt my cheeks burning and my mouth tingled. I told myself it was a natural reaction to the circumstances, but I couldn't deny that I didn't entirely dislike the feel of his hand on the small of my back.
And that was exactly why I'd made the rule about no physical contact.
I was worried that, because of the kiss, Blayne would have expectations for the honeymoon, but once we were on the plane, on our way to London, he put a respectable distance between us and kept the conversation impersonally pleasant.
I actually enjoyed the honeymoon more than I'd anticipated. I'd always loved the cities we were visiting, but I hadn't expected to be allowed to do my own thing. It wasn't like I'd really had an idea of how things were going to go, but then Blayne pretty much went off on his own and left me with a credit card and the instructions to have fun, was definitely different. The few times I saw him, he wasn't cold or distant, but it was clear he was respecting our contract.
I took leisurely strolls through the parts of the cities I hadn't gotten to see when I'd been modeling, appreciating the architecture and the history. I visited art galleries and museums, letting the beauty stimulate my own creativity. I went into all of the best shops, loving that I was able to not only browse, but buy. I was conservative when it came to my wardrobe, but Blayne had insisted I buy whatever I needed and make sure that it was pricey. I'd protested until he'd said his father would never believe a woman could go to any of these places and not shop, especially on her honeymoon. The only thing he'd said I had to buy for appearance sake was lingerie. I'd done as he asked and found myself even enjoying that even though I knew no one would be seeing these particular items.
Twisted Affair: The Complete Series Box Set Page 7
