by Erika Rhys
“I disagree,” Mimi said. “You and Ronan need to come clean with each other before your wedding day. When the two of you speak your vows, you both deserve to know what the words coming out of your mouths mean—or don’t mean.”
“I hadn’t thought of it that way,” I said. “But you’re right.”
“You can’t put this off,” she said. “When the two of you go into this wedding, you both need to be clear on exactly what you’re doing and why.”
“I won’t put it off,” I reassured her. “Sometime in the next few days, I’ll find the right moment.”
Mimi leveled me with a look. “There is no perfect moment, Ava. Don’t overthink this.”
I rolled my eyes. “You know me. I overthink everything—I can’t help myself.”
“Just keep one thing in mind,” she said.
“What’s that?”
“Ronan could be in the same position as you. What if his feelings for you have deepened, but he’s unsure of how you feel about him?”
“I suppose that’s possible.”
She smiled at me. “It’s never easy to make the first move. But someone has to.”
33
AVA
Later that afternoon, I was sitting at my desk at Oasis, putting the finishing touches on my presentation for a potential client that Ronan had sent my way. He’d kept his word about helping me with my business, another way in which we’d become a team.
An amazing team.
I smiled to myself, recalling our rough beginning, when it had seemed like we argued about every other thing. Due to our strong personalities, we still clashed occasionally, but when it came to the important stuff, we were usually in agreement.
Ronan was a linear thinker, and while it sometimes felt like he oversimplified everything, he was fabulous at cutting through the noise to reach the heart of a matter. And once he’d grasped that my world view wasn’t totally alien to his own—it just had far more shades of gray—we’d been able to talk easily about everything under the sun.
Well, almost everything. We hadn’t yet talked about our feelings for each other—but I was gearing up for that conversation. Sometime within the next day or two, I’d find the right moment to tell Ronan how deeply I’d come to care for him.
Just then, the door opened, and I was stunned to see Veronica Kingsley enter the room. Her heels clicked against the hardwood floor as she strode briskly toward my desk. Dressed in a flowing navy silk pantsuit accessorized with pearls, she appeared more polished than ever against the battered walls and used furnishings of my rented workspace.
“Hello, Ava,” she said. “We need to talk.”
Why was she here? Was she about to drop some new, wedding-related bombshell—and if so, why had she bothered coming to my workplace, instead of calling or dropping by the apartment?
I rose to greet her. “Good afternoon, Veronica. Can I get you a cup of coffee, or tea?”
“That won’t be necessary,” she said. “What I have to say won’t take long.”
With an expression of distaste, she perched on the battered red bucket chair that I thought of as Mimi’s and positioned her purse on her knees.
I sat back down at my desk, shut my laptop, and gave her my full attention.
“What do we need to discuss?” I asked.
“Your upcoming marriage to my stepson,” she said. “It’s a fake, a ruse to gain access to his trust money—and we both know it.”
For a moment, I just stared at her as my mind raced. Could she possibly know the truth about my arrangement with Ronan? It didn’t seem possible. Aside from Ronan and me, only Cara, Mimi, and Jack knew the truth, and none of them would sell us out.
Which meant that Veronica had to be bluffing. No other explanation made sense.
“Where is this coming from?” I said. “Ronan and I love each other.”
She raised an eyebrow at me. “Cut the little-miss-perfect act. It doesn’t fool me for a minute. Your sudden engagement was suspicious from day one, and now, thanks to Aiden, I know all about Ronan’s financial problems.”
“Whatever you’ve heard is malicious gossip,” I said. “Ronan’s business is thriving.”
She rolled her eyes. “Spare me the lies.”
I didn’t know what else to do, so I threw everything I had at her. “Believe what you want, Veronica. I don’t need to convince you of anything. Ronan and I love each other, and one week from tomorrow, we’ll be married. Nothing you say or do can stop us.”
She eyed me with grudging respect. “So that’s how you want to play it?” She reached into her purse. “How much do you want?”
I stared at her. “What?”
She pulled out a checkbook and waved it at me. “Money. How much is Ronan paying you? A million—or two? Whatever the amount, I’m prepared to outbid him.”
A cold fury rushed through me. Who did she think she was? How could she whip out her checkbook and play God with Ronan’s life?
When I regained control of myself, I stared the bitch down and asked the question that had plagued me from the day I’d first met her.
“Why do you hate Ronan so much?”
“What does that have to do with anything?”
“So there it is—you do hate him. You just admitted it.”
“I admitted nothing. You heard what you wanted to hear.”
“I heard the truth from your own lips—and I expect an explanation.”
“Very well,” Veronica said. “I don’t particularly like either of my stepchildren, but I don’t hate them, either. I’m only doing what’s necessary to ensure that Aiden receives the inheritance he deserves.”
Her statement was in line with Cara’s belief that Veronica’s aim was to make sure that Aiden received the bulk of Carter Kingsley’s fortune, at Ronan and Cara’s expense.
“Carter’s a billionaire,” I said. “He has a wife and three children. Isn’t a quarter of his fortune enough for each of you? Why are you so determined to get Ronan disinherited?”
“It’s not that simple,” she said. “Carter won’t divide the firm. He’ll leave Kingsley Capital to one of his two sons, just as his father left it to him.”
“And you want Aiden to inherit Kingsley Capital.”
“Of course I do,” Veronica said. “The firm is worth more than the total of Carter’s other assets, and right now, Carter intends that it go to Ronan—his eldest son. Compared to what Ronan will inherit, my son gets a pittance.”
“A quarter of Carter’s other assets is no pittance—and Carter’s old-fashioned attitude in favoring his eldest son isn’t fair to Cara, either.”
“Cara doesn’t count. Carter would never leave his business to a woman.”
“That’s outrageous.”
She shrugged. “I don’t disagree, but that’s the way it is. One of Carter’s two sons will get Kingsley Capital, and I intend to make sure that son is Aiden. If Ronan’s business fails, Carter will be embarrassed by that failure, and I’ll be able to convince him to alter his will in Aiden’s favor. Carter won’t risk leaving Kingsley Capital to a son with poor business judgment—a son who might destroy his legacy.”
For the first time, I fully grasped not only Veronica’s aim but also her thinking. In a twisted way, she no doubt saw herself as a mother fighting for her child. But in her vicious quest to seize money and power for her son, greed had led her to pit brother against brother, and to tear the Kingsley family apart in the process.
“This has been your plan all along, hasn’t it?” I said. “This is why you put Ronan down at every turn, always trying to make him look bad to Carter.”
“What if I have?” she said. “When Aiden inherits the Kingsley fortune and the place in society that goes with it, his success will be worth everything I’ve done to assure it.”
Her words sickened me. After growing up surrounded by Carter’s prejudice and Veronica’s machinations, it was a miracle that Ronan and Cara had turned out to be the kind, decent people who they were.
“Put your checkbook away,” I said. “I understand that you love Aiden and want the best for him—but I love Ronan and would never do anything to hurt him. Carter’s will may not be fair, but ultimately, it’s his right to leave Kingsley Capital to whoever he chooses—and regardless of who he chooses, each of his children will still inherit a fortune.”
Veronica leaned forward in her chair. “You’re making a mistake, Ava. I’m prepared to offer you two million dollars to call off this farce of a wedding.” She gestured at my less-than-impressive office space. “With that kind of money, you could rent a space in Manhattan and set up a real business for yourself.”
My blood simmered. “My business may not be worth millions, but there are some things money can’t buy, and one of them is my heart. I would never betray the man I love.”
Her eyes narrowed. “Three million, then, you gold-digging upstart.”
Fighting to contain my rising anger, I leveled her with a look. “Why is it so difficult for you to accept the truth? Ronan and I are getting married because we’re in love, and no amount of money will change that reality.”
She scrutinized me for several seconds before emitting a brittle laugh. “Silly girl. You’ve fallen for him, haven’t you?”
“Veronica, we’re in love. It’s high time you faced that fact.”
“If you think Ronan loves you, you’re a fool. He’s just like his father.”
I glared at her, resisting the urge to reach across the desk and slap her perfectly made-up face. “Ronan’s nothing like his father.”
She regarded me with contempt. “Don’t be stupid. Ronan’s a skirt-chaser, just like Carter. Neither of them love anyone or anything beyond their own pleasure.”
At that, something snapped inside me, and I stood up from my chair. “You need to leave, and leave now. You’ve made your disgusting offer, and you’ve heard my response. There’s nothing more for us to say to each other.”
Veronica got to her feet, slung her purse over her shoulder, and stalked toward the door. But when she reached it, she paused and turned back to me.
“Call me if you change your mind,” she said evenly. “My offer’s good until the day before the wedding.”
“Whatever. I won’t be calling.”
“You’ll live to regret this.”
“I’ll never regret turning down your filthy bribe.”
It was then that Veronica delivered her most spiteful shot.
“One day you will,” she said. “And it won’t be your only regret, because you’re betting your future on the wrong man. Ronan doesn’t love you—and he never will.”
34
RONAN
When I returned home from work and entered my apartment, I couldn’t have been in better spirits. With the wedding eight days away and the preparations for it completed, I was looking forward to a relaxed weekend with Ava. Tonight, I intended to suggest ordering takeout and then watching a movie together, an activity that inevitably led to making out on the couch, a perfect prelude to taking Ava to my bed and having my way with her.
“Hi, princess,” I called jokingly as I closed the door behind me. “I’m home.”
“In the kitchen,” Ava called back.
As I left the foyer, crossed the living room, and entered the kitchen, the scent of cinnamon reached my nostrils. A sheet of what looked like molasses cookies rested on the stovetop, and Ava was removing a second sheet from the oven.
After she closed and turned off the oven, she faced me.
“You’re not going to believe what happened today,” she said. “I’m still stunned by it myself.”
“Tell me,” I said as I reached for a cookie.
“Veronica stopped by my office.”
My stepmother was nothing if not relentlessly interfering, so while the news that she had interrupted Ava’s work was unwelcome, it wasn’t exactly surprising. But with the wedding invitations sent, and contracts signed with the caterers and florists, it wasn’t like Veronica could change anything major—although she’d no doubt been her usual bitchy self.
“Sorry your day got interrupted,” I said, biting into my cookie, which was delicious. “I hope her visit wasn’t too awful.”
“She offered me three million bucks to break up with you.”
I nearly choked and swallowed hard to recover. “What the hell?”
“I turned her down, of course,” Ava said.
As my pulse—which had shot through the roof—settled down, Ava’s matter-of-fact rejection of Veronica’s offer sank into me.
“There’s no ‘of course’ about turning down that kind of money,” I said.
She furrowed her brow. “There is for me. I would never betray you.”
Maybe she took that kind of loyalty for granted—but I didn’t. Not after growing up with my father’s detachment and my stepmother’s deceit.
I pulled her into my arms. “From day one, you’ve always had my back, which means more than you know. But since Veronica can’t stop our marriage, there’s no need to worry.”
She wrapped her arms around my waist and rested her head against my chest. “How can you be so calm about your stepmother trying to ruin you?”
“Practice,” I said, dropping a kiss on the top of her head. “She’s been trying to ruin me for years.”
Ava leaned back and tilted her face toward mine, her gaze intense with concern. “Then you know it’s just a matter of time before she tries again. She’s hell-bent on Aiden getting Kingsley Capital and the bulk of your father’s fortune.”
I released her. “Veronica’s ambitions for Aiden are nothing new, and I for one don’t care if she achieves them, as long as it doesn’t interfere with the success of my own business.”
Ava looked surprised. “You don’t care if you inherit your father’s firm?”
“I don’t. Why do you think I started Kingsley Tech instead of going to work for my father?”
“The same reasons I started Oasis,” she said. “Independence, and doing what you love.”
“Those factors played a role, but here’s the primary reason. Years ago, I made the decision not to base my life on speculating about the future of my father’s money. Whatever he leaves me—or doesn’t leave me—is his decision, and there’s no point in thinking about it, let alone worrying about it. It’s beyond my control.”
“Most people expect to inherit whatever they consider to be their fair share of their parents’ money, even when there’s not much to spread around.”
I shrugged and reached for a second cookie. “I’m not most people, and obsessing about my father’s intentions is a waste of energy. I’d rather focus on doing my own thing—which, right now, means ordering takeout, instead of eating an entire sheet of these cookies, which are delicious.”
“My grandmother’s recipe never fails,” Ava said with a smile. “What do you feel like eating tonight?”
“How about Saigon Shack? I could go for some beef pho.”
“Sold,” she said. “I love their spring rolls.”
“And since I picked the food—”
“I pick the movie. While you call in our order, I’ll look for something good on Netflix.”
I leaned forward and kissed her on the lips. “Let’s forget about my stepmother, OK? Fuck letting her invade our movie night.”
She kissed me back. “Agreed. Movie nights are sacred.”
After dinner, we settled down on the couch to watch the movie Ava had chosen, Bringing Up Baby.
“This seems vaguely familiar,” I said when Cary Grant appeared on the television screen. “Cary looks even more wussy than usual in those dumb-looking glasses.”
“Even old-fashioned glasses can’t touch Cary’s studliness,” Ava said. “Besides, he’s supposed to be a stuffy paleontologist.”
“I suppose that explains the glasses.”
“And Katherine Hepburn’s a flighty socialite with a pet leopard. If you’ve seen the movie before, we can watch something else.”
>
I cocked my head at her. “Since your description doesn’t ring a bell, my sense of familiarity must be due to Cary’s frequent appearances on my TV screen.”
Ava rolled her eyes. “Since when have I denied my Cary obsession? Get ready to laugh your ass off. Bringing Up Baby is the best screwball comedy ever.”
With Ava curled against me and a glass of Scotch in my hand, a sense of contentment crept over me as together, we spent the next hour and a half watching and laughing at what had to be one of the most ridiculous romantic comedies ever made. When the screen faded to black from Grant and Hepburn’s final embrace, Ava turned to me, her face glowing with happiness.
“Thank you for indulging me,” she said. “After my run-in with she-who-shall-not-be-named, I needed this.”
I drained the remainder of my Scotch and set the glass on the coffee table, anticipating the next stage of the evening. We’d talk, relax, and make out on the couch a bit, before heading for the comfort of my bed to have our way with each other.
“My pleasure,” I said. “Once the wedding’s behind us, hopefully we’ll be able to enjoy evenings like this more often.”
“I’d like that,” she said. “Speaking of our wedding, there’s something I wanted to talk to you about.”
“What’s on your mind?”
“Us,” she said. “How do you think we’re doing?”
After her encounter with Veronica, Ava no doubt needed a little reassurance, and after turning down three million bucks for me, she deserved all the support I could give her.
“As far as I’m concerned, things couldn’t be better. When we signed our marriage agreement, I was skeptical about whether it could really work out, but at this point, I feel incredibly lucky.”
“What were you skeptical about, early on?”
“Sharing an apartment, and giving up sex.” I gave her a suggestive look. “Although as it turned out, it didn’t take you long to put the moves on me.”
