by Lauren Wood
“Hello?” I answered in a huff as I raced to turn down the booming stereo.
“Maya Brookes?”
“Yes, this is she.”
“This is Linda Mullens from the matchmaking agency. You submitted an application through our website a few days ago, expressing interest in one of our available bachelors. I have some great news for you!”
I couldn’t process what she was saying at first. It all sounded like a jumbled mess. It felt as if she was speaking in a foreign language even though I knew it was perfect English. Flashes of Margo talking about the agency started coming back to me, but we had a lot to drink that night. It was hard to remember it all clearly.
“Jesse Halstead, the man you requested to be matched with, has agreed! Now, there will be a few more steps in vetting you for the arrangement and a lot of details to discuss for the contract, but I’m confident we can get that out of the way quickly and smoothly.”
Her voice had a bubbly, excited tone to it like I had won some kind of prize. It made me feel natural ease to be excited, too, except I still couldn’t fully understand what was happening.
“Arrangement?” I stammered back in confusion. “Contract?”
“Well, yes. Given the amount of money being exchanged and the nature of the arrangement, we do want to make sure we cover all the bases thoroughly. But don’t worry. I’ve reviewed your application at length, and I doubt there will be any hang-ups. We just have to be careful. Marriage is very serious business, even when it is arranged in this manner.”
I was jolted through a rollercoaster of reactions. The mention of money, apparently a substantial amount no less, and Linda Mullen’s enthusiasm for this opportunity all made me want to dive straight into the nitty-gritty details. She sounded so confident. I should feel the same, but my brain worked double-time to make sense of it all. She said the word marriage, and my optimism started to fade.
I panicked. I was used to being thrown into all sorts of weird and unexpected situations, but I was never one to let myself appear as caught off guard as I actually was. I liked to be prepared and ready to take on whatever was being put in front of me. All I knew was I needed some time to regroup and fast.
“Mrs. Mullins?” I rasped. My throat was suddenly dry. “I’m sorry. You did kind of catch me at a bad time. Can I call you back?”
I heard a sigh, and suddenly her tone grew sharp and impatient. “Yes, of course, Maya. But I must advise you that if we don’t get started on the next step of the process soon, we’ll have to move on to other applicants. Our clients trust us to work quickly for them. It’s one of the things we’re known for. There are plenty of other women out there who would love to be paid such a large sum to be known as Mrs. Jesse Halstead, even if it is only on paper.”
“Uh-huh. I’m sorry, but could you refresh my memory? What was the large sum again?” I felt ridiculous for even asking or saying I’d call back at all. This was absurd. She was talking about marriage! I couldn’t sell myself off to some rich bachelor, but my ears perked up for her response all the same.
“The terms could be negotiated as we put together the final contract, but Mr. Halstead’s starting offer is five-hundred thousand dollars.”
I blinked, feeling frozen. My eyes darted across the stack of overdue bills on the kitchen counter. They had felt like a mountain on my back for months now—one that I could never feasibly climb. Suddenly, they seemed so small. They were so insignificant in the face of that kind of money that I could practically see them turning to dust and blowing off in the wind.
“I will call you back within the hour,” I blurted before quickly hanging up.
I had given myself one hour to figure out exactly what happened the other night and to decide if I could really go through with this. Not knowing what else to do, I lunged for my laptop and began searching through the browsing history. The traces of the matchmaking website were there, as I knew they would be. But after checking my email more carefully, I could also see the confirmation message I received after applying to be Jesse Halstead’s fake bride.
I scoured the site more, through a sober lens this time, rapidly trying to soak up all the details I should have taken more seriously before actually applying. Jesse Halstead would be paying me five-hundred-thousand dollars to legally marry him. There would be a strict, legally binding contract that spelled out all of the stipulations. I would not be expected to engage in a real relationship with him. I would only need to appear to be his wife during social gatherings and public appearances. After five years, there would be a window of negotiation that would open back up, giving either partner the opportunity to propose new terms or end the arrangement entirely. But if the bride wanted out of the arrangement any sooner or if she failed to meet the expectations of the groom, she would be expected to pay back every penny of the five-hundred-thousand dollars.
I found myself being oddly calm and logical as I took in all of the details and weighed the pros and cons. Being a creative person, I was usually much more enslaved to my heart and my emotions, but something about this brought an objective wave of careful calculation over me. I must have become more desperate than I ever realized before. I was officially in survival mode.
All the possibilities, good and bad, were swirling around me in nauseating proportions. I needed a second opinion. Margo dragged me into this, so she would have to be the one to talk some sense into me. My shaking hands reached for the phone and dialed her number. It felt like I was floating out of my body as I explained all of the details to her.
“So, are you going to do it?” she asked with an irritating calmness. Her voice piqued with the same excitement Mrs. Mullins had.
“I don’t know! That’s why I’m calling you. I’m freaking out here, Margo. I didn’t even remember us submitting the application. Now, I’m seriously sitting here considering whether or not I should enter into an arranged marriage. This is crazy!”
“For five-hundred thousand dollars,” she reminded me.
My heart pounded as she said it. Each time the amount was said out loud, I felt more compelled to give this thing a try. It’s not like Jesse Halstead was hard on the eyes. Quite the opposite, actually. Plenty of girls would beg to have a chance with him for free, and here I was with the offer hanging right in front of me, just waiting for me to reach up and grab it. I could be known as his wife and become rich in the process, and all I’d have to do is pretend to be in a real relationship with him every so often.
I continued ranting and raving to Margo, hoping she would offer some kind of discouragement. Of course, she refused to see any reason why I shouldn’t do this, and I was struggling to see any reason, either.
Finally, my time was up. I had to call Linda Mullins back to tell her my decision, or I’d risk losing this chance altogether. I still didn’t feel certain as the phone rang. When she answered, it felt like I could blurt out a refusal or acceptance, and I wouldn’t know which would come out until I heard myself say it.
3
Jesse
After the final preparations were set with the agency, I stood in front of my bathroom mirror, combing back my hair and spritzing on cologne. I chuckled to myself as I straightened my tie. This was like getting ready for any other date, but the reality of it was far from a normal date.
I couldn’t stop thinking about the matchmaking service as a solution to all of my problems after Joey and Mark brought it up. I thought when I woke up the next morning that it’d seem like a crazy, impossible idea, but the opposite happened. Not only did it still seem like a good idea, but it was also starting to seem like my only option.
Even Mark was a little surprised when I followed up with him to get the agency’s number. He couldn’t believe that I would willingly enter into a contract of marriage, much less pay a big sum to do so. The money was really nothing to me, and what other choice did I have? I owed it to my grandfather to fulfill his dying wish, but I had no interest in a real marriage. Buying a fake one seemed like the only way to live
up to his expectations before it was too late.
The agency sent me a few potential matches, and I was instantly drawn to one named Maya. She was an artist in financial hardship, so her reasons for doing something like this seemed obvious, and it made me feel better about the whole thing. Not only would I get what I needed out of the arrangement, but I could help her out, too. It was almost like I was becoming a patron of the arts, or so I told myself.
She was also drop-dead gorgeous in her photos, which I did my best not to get my hopes up about. I had heard the horror stories of online dating and people never being what you expected when they showed up, but she didn’t have to be someone I would really date or marry. She just had to be convincing enough to fool my family.
Before we could sign the contract, we had to meet. I suggested something old fashioned—dinner and drinks. The circumstances of our meeting were bizarre enough. I figured there was no need to try to add any more craziness to the evening by attempting to pull off something more elaborate. In a way, it was relieving not to have to work too hard to impress her. We both knew what we were there for—no use in dancing around it.
I made reservations at one of the classiest spots in the city. It usually had a waiting list, but we handled stocks for one of the owners, so he always moved things around to fit us in on request. I thought even if the evening was unsuccessful and Maya and I decided not to go through with this for any reason, we’d at least both get to enjoy a good meal and some fancy cocktails.
The whole process moved so quickly that it was easy to forget about the gravity of the situation. The phrase arranged marriage was on a loop in my head as I stood outside the restaurant, waiting for Maya to arrive. Catching a glimpse of my reflection in the big window facing the street, I thought I was a good looking guy. I was rich, and I worked for a huge corporation that my family owned. I’d never had any trouble with women, or finding them, anyway. They were usually lined up to date me, either for my looks or for my money, if not both. Why was I having to bother with buying a fake bride?
The memories of angry exes and scorned lovers came flooding back to me. I had too many options, really, and it was impossible to settle on just one woman, especially when I had no interest in settling down. This was the only way to please my family and keep my freedom. Marriage still gave me heart palpitations, fake or not, but once again, I came back to the same roadblock. I had no other choice.
Knowing that didn’t stop all my relentless doubts from gnawing at me from the inside out. It was all starting to make my stomach churn to the point of me considering making a run for it. I could just walk away from this whole thing right here and now, and go home and pour myself a drink, relaxing alone in the safety of my little bachelor life that I was so comfortable in. I’d call the agency and offer to pay something to compensate for their troubles, maybe even send a little to this Maya chick. But then I’d also have to face my grandfather again, knowing that I’d disappointed him as he lay on his deathbed.
With me still feeling like I could bolt at any second, Maya finally came walking down the sidewalk toward me. Something in me knew it was her from the moment her long, dark leg extended from the car I had sent to pick her up. She was tall and thin, but with just the right amount of curves. She had dark, caramel skin and black curls styled on top of her head, revealing her long graceful neck. She looked like a model, and I would know because I had dated enough of them. The sight of her made it feel like the breath had been knocked out of me for a moment.
I managed to pull myself together as she approached me with a warm but nervous smile. “Maya?” I beamed. “I’m Jesse.”
We hesitated on how to greet each other for a moment, but I settled for extending my hand to shake hers. We laughed a little at our awkwardness and then stood there, not knowing what to say. Obviously, neither of us had ever done anything like this before.
I got lost in looking her over for a moment. I didn’t mean to examine her like a slab of meat, so I tried to keep it discreet. She was even more ravishing up close, and she also seemed to be taking stock of me in return. One thing was for certain. If we went through with this, I would have no shame in calling her my wife. She was absolutely stunning.
“Well,” I motioned toward the door. “Shall we?”
“Sure.” She smiled as I opened the door for her to lead the way.
My eyes continued exploring as we were led to our table. Her legs were long and muscular over her heels, and her ass was perfect—plump and round. I almost felt bad for looking, but then I noticed every other guy we passed was staring, too. It brought on an odd tinge of possessiveness. I already found myself thinking: Take your eyes off of her. That’s my wife.
But I shook all those ridiculous notions away as we sat down at our table. Her flawless skin was luminous and glowing against the candlelit table, and she carried herself with a strange balance of poise and humility. I could tell she was confident, but this was obviously an unfamiliar territory for both of us.
“It’s nice to finally meet you,” she offered, not seeming to know where else to start. “It seems strange to have learned so much about you from all the photos and reports from the agency and to be only just now sitting down across from you in person.”
“Nice to meet you, too,” I grinned, feeling a little guilty that I hadn’t paid more attention to her details. I had definitely let my eyes and manly urges do the picking for me out of habit. “Well, I guess we should get to know each other. If we’re going to pull this off, we’ll have to learn to be comfortable together.”
“Of course,” she nodded in a sort of professional seriousness.
We got down to business, firing questions back and forth about all of the important details. Where we came from, how big our families were, our friends, and our current places in life. She was easy to talk to, and before long, we were both lost in deep conversation. This could work well, I thought to myself. I’d already learned more about her than I ever had with any first date in my life. Maybe there was something to not beating around the bush.
4
Maya
Jesse listened intently as I told him my stories of traveling from state to state with my art sales. He was such a careful listener that it was almost too intense and distracting. I could only imagine sitting in with him at a business meeting as he asks all the poignant questions and gets straight down to the point of every matter. That’s what this was anyway, right? A business meeting, of sorts.
I was pleasantly surprised by his boyish charm. He was even better looking in person than he was in his photos, with his styled dark brown hair and sparkling blue eyes. He had a perfect jawline, strong and chiseled, and dimples that appeared when he smiled.
I knew I had been talking for a while and could have kept going for as long as he let me. I assumed he’d stop me or interject at some point, but he never did. I finally trailed off, amazed that his eyes hadn’t taken on a bored, glossed-over look by now.
“I have a million traveling stories I could tell, but I’m sure you’re ready to talk about something else.” I laughed nervously.
He seemed entranced and shook his head a little to snap back. “No, I find it all really fascinating. I mean, I’ve traveled a lot, and I always loved hearing my brother Eric’s stories of his world travels. There’s something different about the way you tell it. We’ve seen the world from the view of private jets and five-star resorts. It sounds so much more magical from your perspective.”
My cheeks blushed as I smiled back at him, but the eye contact got to be too much. I could feel my skin getting hot and had to look away.
“Well, I guess there is something I’m curious about,” I said slowly.
“Shoot. I’m an open book.” He leaned back in his chair, and I could tell he meant it.
“Why are you turning to an arrangement like this to find a wife? A friend told me you and your brothers were some of the most wanted eligible bachelors in the city, maybe the country. You’ve been on the cover of Forbes
magazine. You’re obviously a good looking guy. Why does someone like you need to do this?”
“Were some of the most eligible bachelors in the city,” he repeated, recoiling a little as he sipped his drink.
“I’m sorry?”
“I’m the only bachelor now. Dominic just got engaged. Jason was recently remarried. And Eric has a baby on the way,” he explained, seeming wounded. “I’m the only one left who hasn’t been paired off, which I’d be fine with, but our grandfather is deathly ill.”
“Oh!” I gasped. “I’m so sorry.” I wasn’t sure if the alcohol was partly to blame, but hearing about his grandfather being close to the end of his life struck me to my core. Without thinking, I reached for his hand across the table and gave it a tight squeeze.
His eyes glinted over the gesture, looking surprised, but he didn’t pull away. “Thank you. Well, he’s a very traditional man, and his dying wish is to see all of his grandsons happily married before he dies. Which has left me in quite the predicament.”
My mouth dropped a little. “Wow. I can’t imagine anyone ever placing such a heavy burden on me. I guess I’m lucky in that way. As much as you can call being an orphan lucky. At least I’ve never had anyone trying to dictate my life.”
“Eh.” He shrugged. “It’s a formality of sorts. No point on trying to argue with the old man who’s set in his ways. I’d rather just make him happy so he can die in peace. There’s certainly nothing else in this world that would ever make me settle down.”
“I can relate,” I replied honestly, thinking how I had never met anyone who seemed worth giving my freedom up for.
“What about you? What made you go for this sort of thing?”
“I’m broke,” I blurted through laughter. “I need the money. No offense. Sorry to be so blunt.”
