by Joya Ryan
“I’m Megan Riley,” I offered, hoping to defuse the testosterone exchange.
“My fiancé,” Preston added with a smirk. “Megan, this is my father John and my brother Charlie.”
If Charlie’s distaste about my presence wasn’t already obvious, the creepy and unwavering glare was a dead giveaway. I tried to swallow the unease flicking up my throat.
“You can’t be serious,” Charlie said, crossing his arms over his chest. “Don’t your women usually stray before you get them locked down?” The grin teasing Charlie’s mouth was pure evil. I wasn’t exactly following the digs he was throwing, but I did recognize one thing: Preston. And he was pissed.
With a tight grip on me, his body hummed with tension, like any moment he’d shoot out of his skin and rip Charlie’s throat out.
“Is there a reason you’re being so rude?” I said to Charlie. My parents taught me that if you had a question, ask. They also taught me manners, which Charlie was clearly lacking.
“It’s because he’s threatened,” Preston said, his stare fused on his brother.
Charlie was shorter and not much to look at. His skin was showing signs of his age, which I’d guessed to be early forties. I knew he was older than Preston but I didn’t know by how much. Probably because I didn’t even know how old my “fiancé” was.
“Well, I think this is splendid!” John said and wrapped me in a hug.
Preston wasn’t kidding about him really wanting this legacy. But the tense interaction between his sons—accompanied by John’s obvious avoidance—told me that there was a lot this family buried and didn’t deal with.
“When did you two get engaged?”
“Recently.” Preston answered his father before I could.
“You should have called,” John said to Preston.
“You were in Paris.”
“Oh, I hear Paris is beautiful this time of year,” I offered, hoping this direction was leading to some kind of pleasant conversation.
“It was,” Charlie cut in. “The family reunion was grueling though.” He shot a sinister leer at Preston.
I glanced over my shoulder at Preston. “Why didn’t you go to the reunion?”
“Because it’s not his family,” Charlie quipped.
“My, my you’re a beautiful young lady,” John cut in, once again ignoring Charlie’s comments and changing the subject. He held me back with a firm grip on my shoulders to examine me.
I was so lost. John didn’t seem to have a mean bone in his body, he also didn’t seem to acknowledge the fact that there was a serious rift between the Strauss sons. And what was that about not being Preston’s family? Obviously Preston was John’s son, so was Junior over there just saying stupid things and being a douche for the hell of it?
“Beautiful?” Charlie’s gaze openly slid down my body and I felt the instant need to shower.
Preston stepped toward his brother, shoulders square, a brick tower closing in on an anthill.
“That’s enough,” John snapped, than instantly returned his attention back to me. “Where are you from, dear?” I looked at Preston with what had to be horror because what the hell was happening? This was the worst conversation ever, if it could even be called that. It felt more like a string of insults laced with a question here and there.
When Preston’s death stare finally turned from Charlie and found mine, I watched his chest rise on a deep breath. The look on his face was that of a man who mastered control and obviously practiced in letting certain things go. Vulnerability and raw animosity warred over his expression, and the look broke something in my heart.
I stepped away from John and back toward Preston. Lacing my fingers through his, I gripped his hand and smiled up at him. I didn’t know what the issues were, but fake fiancé or not, as long as I was there, he wouldn’t face it alone.
“I’m from Illinois,” I said, facing John once more. “I grew up on the outskirts of Chicago.”
“Beautiful city,” John said. He seemed like such a sweet, genuine man and I couldn’t help but like him immediately. Preston gave a gentle squeeze and my muscles eased a bit and a touch of relaxation spread through me.
“Well, this is just wonderful news. Why don’t we all grab a bite and get caught up,” John said.
“Father, we came here for a board meeting. That’s it,” Charlie grated.
“Megan was just on her way out. She has a doctor’s appointment,” Preston said. He unwound his fingers from mine. A streak of loss and sadness was quickly replaced when I felt that same hand once again find the small of my back and rest there.
“Nothing serious I hope?” John asked.
“Oh, no.” I smiled. Not unless you count marrying your son and gathering proof you’re not going to entrap him with a child “serious.”
Preston leaned in so his lips were by my ear and whispered so only I could hear, “Get me those medical records and we’ll sign the paperwork tonight.” His breath against my neck made my knees weak for the millionth time that hour. At this rate, I’d never stand straight in Preston’s presence.
He pulled back, his voice a normal pitch. “I’ll let Brooke know about your appointment. See you tonight, sweetheart.” With that, he slapped my ass.
I stood and gaped at him. He just smiled and John was going to burst with beaming happiness. Junior looked about ready to birth a littler of swamp rats.
“Okay, bye,” I said and took a stuttered step toward the exit.
“Nice meeting you, dear,” John called.
“You too, sir.”
Preston led them in the opposite direction to what, I could only assume, was the board meeting Charlie spoke of.
My heels took a few unsteady clacks against marble as I walked to the front doors. I glanced at Brooke behind the desk. She was silently sending me strength. The woman probably thought I’d just been sacked, instead of sacking the boss.
God, what have I gotten myself into?
Chapter Six
I sat in the back of the town car and stared out the window. New York really was beautiful. It had been a long day, but after being poked, prodded and examined, Preston’s driver picked me up and was en route back to the hotel.
When I left, I hadn’t even the time to get my arm up for a taxi before Preston’s driver pulled up with strict orders to take me to Preston’s personal doctor. Lots of personal stuff was going on and apparently all the arrangements had been made, without me, while I was on the way there.
My phone buzzed and I pulled it out of my purse. It was Kate.
“How’s Miss Big City doing?” Kate asked.
I missed her the moment I heard her voice. We talked almost every day but it was still a hard adjustment. We’d lived together since college and had been best friends even longer. Leaving her behind had been difficult, but after she and Adam got engaged, I knew it was only a matter of time before she moved out anyway.
“Chicago was a big city,” I defended.
“Yeah, but it’s not the same thing as New York.”
That was true.
“I miss you so much, Meg! Everyone is leaving for spring break and I have nothing to grade and no lectures to give and I just…I miss you.”
My heart sank a little. “I miss you too.” But miss didn’t begin to describe it. The last several months had changed my life in such a fundamental way, it was hard to say what I was truly lacking and what I was really aching for.
There was a distance in everything I once held close. Kate was the one person who knew everything about me, the one person I confided in, but after things fell apart and Tim went to jail, I couldn’t bring myself to tell her about my parents’ involvement, or that all of their money was gone.
Call it shame or pride, I took the best job I could get, determined to fix it on my own. Kate had already been through enough in her life. She would have felt terrible if she knew her uncle cheated my parents. She would have set to make it right. But that was my job, and one I took seriously. Still, keeping p
ieces of my life secret from the ones I cared about most was tough.
“You can’t be too upset about spring break. You have Adam to occupy you,” I said, going for a lighter conversation.
She giggled a little. A true, honest sound of bliss. I was so happy for her that she found someone as amazing as Adam. They both had issues to overcome but I’d never met two people more perfect for each other.
“That’s true. Speaking of Adam, it looks like his firm has a job opening—”
“Kate, I can’t. We’ve been over this. I learned the hard way that working for family is not a good idea. You and I are family.”
“I know, I just…it makes sense. With both you and Emma there, things aren’t the same. You’d get great money and honestly, you wouldn’t have to worry about a thing.”
That was the problem, I needed to worry. I was responsible not only for myself but all my mistakes, which unfortunately affected my parents. If I were being honest, Chicago was a place I loved, the place I grew up, but I wasn’t ready to go back. Too much awfulness still lingered there. When I returned, I would be strong and set this whole mess right.
Besides, it was looking like I’d be in New York for the next three years anyway—not a hard price to pay when it meant my father got a live-in nurse and my mother kept the house she loved.
“I want to hear about you. Have you set a date yet?” My tone was chipper even though everything else about me was exhausted.
Kate sighed and thankfully let me change the subject.
“Not yet. Adam’s getting kind of grouchy about it.”
“I bet. Can’t keep stringing the guy along, you know.”
She laughed. “Oh please. I’m in it for the long haul. I just don’t see the rush. Between the stuff with Tim and the custody battle for Simon, I’d like everything to die down. I want to get married when there are no dark clouds over us.”
Simon was Kate’s six-year-old cousin. With Tim in prison and Grace deciding that raising kids when marrying a man half her age didn’t sound fun anymore, Simon was left with his seventy-year-old grandparents who didn’t have the energy to raise a child.
“Didn’t Simon’s grandparents say they wouldn’t fight you for custody?”
“Yeah, and they aren’t, but it’s Tim who refuses to sign over his parental rights and it’s creating problems.” I could hear the exasperation in her voice. “We get to see him a lot, I just want this mess wrapped up so he can feel secure again—in a home, with me and Adam.”
“Makes sense. And you’re an amazing person, Kate. I know things will work out. I just want you to have something happy to look forward to and plan for.”
“I will. Just be ready, because the second we do set a wedding date you and Emma better be on a plane over here, Miss Maid of Honor.”
“Of course!”
“So, how are things with you? I haven’t seen you in months. Is your job going well?”
An uneasy laugh gurgled its way out. “The job is good.” I hated lying, which was why I tried never to do it. Technically, I had stated the truth, but omitted details.
I glanced at the medical records in the manila envelope on the seat next to me. This was yet another situation I had to keep from Kate. The fact didn’t sit well, but if anyone knew about this, it would be bad. Really, really bad and likely end before it began. Also, legally I couldn’t talk about it. I had already signed a contract about keeping my mouth shut.
“Is your dad doing okay?” Kate asked.
I hung my head a little. “Not really. I talked to him a couple days ago. He, ah…well, I don’t think he realized who I was.”
“Oh, I’m so sorry, Meg.”
“Yeah, me too.” I fought back the tears. “But the doctor thinks that we might be able to slow down the memory loss if we start treatment soon and up his home care.”
I wish I could quit my job and go back home, help my mother care for him, but then there would be no money coming in. Not the kind of money I was making at the hotel. And my father needed a medical professional, which was another thing I couldn’t afford.
But that was going to change soon.
There were worse things than being married to a billionaire hotel heir. A billionaire hotel heir who was sexy and smart and made my body hum. The only difficult part, the part that made my stomach pinch, was the secrecy. How could I lie to Kate, my parents, Emma and the rest?
Easy. For my dad I could do anything.
I was getting married. I tossed those words around in my mind and—nope. Couldn’t say it out loud. Not yet. I needed more time to let this sink in.
The car pulled up to the hotel.
“Hey, I just got to work, but I’ll call you tomorrow, Kate.”
“Okay. Love you, Meg. Call me anytime. For anything okay?”
“Okay. Love you too.”
I clicked the phone off, snatched up the manila folder, and thanked the driver. It was dark and the spring air was crisp. I stopped at the lobby desk. Olivia was filling in tonight. A shift I should be working.
“Hi, Olivia, I’m sorry about the short notice.”
“It’s no trouble.” Olivia was maybe a year younger than me and a part-timer. She filled in when people got sick or had appointments. She leaned over the desk. “I heard you’re getting married to John Preston Strauss. Congratulations!”
“Thanks,” I mumbled.
It was odd that this didn’t seem odd to her. Maybe it was just me. Maybe to the outside world this was normal. Of course, there were bound to be people thinking the worst. Sleeping my way to the top and all that. Funny thing, one night of “sleeping” and I found myself in a situation I never saw coming.
“Mr. Strauss actually called me himself. Said he’d be staying in the penthouse for a couple months and I’d be filling in for you for a while.”
“Oh, he did?”
She nodded spastically. “Which works out great for me because I could use the hours.”
“That’s good.” I smiled because the girl had no idea what was going on and was obviously excited about working. “Have a good evening.”
“Thanks, you too!”
I walked to the elevator, rode up, and headed to the penthouse. All day I had thought out this contract and what Preston wanted from me, but never once did I think of a counter stipulation of my own. Seeing Olivia working my shift slapped me with perspective. Three years was a long time of security, but I had to make sure I had something to go back to after my fake marriage to Preston Strauss ended.
Facing the penthouse door, I knocked. When no one answered, I pounded harder.
“Hello there.” I spun around to see Preston standing in the office doorway across the hall. Tension racked my body as I marched toward him.
“Tough day, sweetheart?” He grinned.
“Other than realizing you gave my job away?” I pointed the folder at him.
“Did not.” He snatched it out of my hand, turned and walked into the office flipping through it. I followed him.
“Then why did Olivia tell me you called her and said I’d be out for a while?”
“Everything looks good,” he said going over my records and completely ignoring my question. “You’re on the pill…” He flipped another page.
“Yeah, I have been for a while. You never said anything about giving my job to someone else.”
“It’s temporary.” He snapped the folder shut and tossed it on the desk next to a small stack of papers. “With the wedding right around the corner, I figured you’d be busy with the planning and hosting guests…like your parents.”
The way he annunciated the last word made me think he knew about more about my family than I thought.
I swallowed hard. “When exactly are we getting married?”
“I was thinking the sooner the better. Six weeks or so.”
“Six weeks!”
“I thought you’d like it that way.” His voice was soft and he folded his arms over his chest—not in a display of dominance but as if t
rying to determine exactly how to speak next. His cuffs were rolled at the sleeves and his jaw held that amazing shadow of a day’s worth of stubble. Like the night I met him. He was sinful looking. Delicious. But when a sliver of sweet kindness trickled out, he was simply lethal.
I hadn’t thought much of the details, what with just getting used to this charade in the first place. Somewhere deep down, I wanted a wedding soon too. My father grew worse every day and hopefully he’d remember who I was by the time he walked me down the aisle. It seemed silly wanting something like that, given everything going on with his health. But fake wedding or not, I desperately wanted my father there. I wanted him as mentally with me as he could be, but that was not something I wanted to discuss at the moment.
“I have a request regarding my job,” I said.
He eyed me. “Oh?”
“After this marriage is done, I want my same job back, same pay, at the Chicago hotel.”
He looked at me like I had asked him to name all fifty states in alphabetical order. “Are you mad about something?”
“Well, no, I guess I am just thrown that you would make a decision that affects my life without talking to me.”
“That wasn’t my intent, I just assumed that you’d be busy planning the wedding and could use the time. Plus, as my wife you won’t need the money.”
“This isn’t about the money, I love my job and I love what I do. And I get that we aren’t the normal, soon-to-be-married couple, but if we are going to make this work we need to talk to each other.”
“I agree.” He grinned and ran that hot gaze over my face, his smile widening to mega-watt status.
“Is something funny?”
He shook his head. “I'm sorry, it’s just that most women wouldn’t want to work if they didn't have to."
“I'm not like the women you know then.”
“No,” he looked at me and something in his eyes softened. “You aren't, are you? I will tell Olivia you are coming back full time and I will make sure there is a position for you in Chicago when the time comes.”
“Thank you, that means a lot. But with the wedding being so close, maybe you’re right and I should let Olivia fill in for a few weeks.” I didn’t want Olivia to lose out on the hours she seemed to need.
