Does he consider me part of his possessions?
Miranda’s eyes widened. Each time they made love, Wolfe muttered the words, “you’re mine.” And each of those times, she surrendered more and more of herself to him. Do I have anything left to salvage, something I can hold onto, to keep me going when all of this comes to an end?
She didn’t like her answer.
The rest of the document repeated the general terms in more excruciating detail. Miranda’s hands trembled as she placed the folder down. Her trust in Wolfe was seriously shaken. His flirtatiousness and kindness were in stark contrast to the man the document represented. This was a devious, scheming entrepreneur, who made certain he profited from his ventures.
Out of the blue, Miranda heard her stepfather’s voice, dripping with venom. Memories of the vile way he treated her flashed through her mind. The emotional scars that refused to heal. Reading through the agreement, she felt like her skin was peeled back, leaving her scars visible. This is all the love someone as damaged as I am can hope for.
So why did she feel so hurt and angry? She’d gone into this knowing exactly what she was getting into. Stupid, stupid, stupid! She curled her hands into fists. No one asked you to fall in love with him!
The walls of the lawyer’s office pressed in on her. Her heart pounded like a jackhammer, she couldn’t breathe. Miranda was conscious of the lawyer standing by her side, staring at her with alarm.
Miranda shut her eyes. “Can I have a glass of water, please?” she whispered.
“Of course.” She heard him step away. Taking control of herself, Miranda opened her eyes and saw him head to a carafe and pouring water into a glass.
Miranda gulped down the water. Its chill gave her racing thoughts a check, and she pulled herself together. “Will there be repercussions if I decide not to sign?”
Collins looked at her, surprised. “Are you having second thoughts about pursuing this agreement?”
“To be honest, I don’t know.”
Collins looked at her intently, “It is my understanding that some of the terms have already been affected. Mr. Hawkins signed the guarantor agreement prior to all these and your loan had been released to you. Am I right?”
Miranda nodded.
“Let me speak honestly, Miss Okafor. If you change your mind, I would have to file a case against you to protect my client’s interests. Mr. Hawkins may agree or disagree regarding that matter, but I would have to notify the bank that he is withdrawing his guarantee. In those circumstances, the bank could change the terms of your loan and decide to terminate it, demanding immediate payment for the aforementioned loan.”
Miranda swallowed. She couldn’t afford that. The repairs on the building alone had already eaten a substantial amount from her funds. Wolfe had helped immensely in securing the crew, construction materials, and equipment she needed. She’d have been completely overwhelmed if not for his guidance.
As she wavered, the legal document resting on her lap, an unsettling thought wormed its way into her head. Was Wolfe’s support his way of getting her dependent on him? Was she easy prey, and was Wolfe manipulating her into accepting this agreement?
Or is this my inability to trust men? Miranda knew that that was a byproduct of her horrible past. She’d been really close to trusting Wolfe. Now that she’d seen the document, she wasn’t so sure anymore. How can I make the right decision? I don’t even trust myself!
Miranda sighed. I have to sign. I have no other choice. Too much had already happened. As much as she tried to deny it, she was trapped. “I’ll sign it.”
Collins appeared relieved. “Good.” He handed her a pen and indicated where her signature should appear.
Miranda signed everything quickly, overwhelmed by a need to leave the lawyer’s office. Maybe some air would help. She stood ready to say her goodbyes.
But Collins placed another paper before her. “There’s something else. I kept this for last because I felt I needed to explain this fully to you. ”
Miranda looked at the document. “What is it?”
“This covers pieces of jewelry, like your, ahem, engagement ring which is a family heirloom, or any other expensive gifts you may receive from Mr. Hawkins. I insisted upon an agreement that you will return them once the contract expires. I hope you understand.”
Flame rushed into Miranda’s cheeks. Already teetering on the verge, she now felt like she was pushed off the edge. She’d never felt more humiliated—or more betrayed.
Common sense said it was alright, assuring her she wasn’t expecting jewelry and gifts, but her heart contradicted her mind fiercely. She’d already put too much significance on the engagement ring. Wolfe insisted she wore it. Miranda looked down at the ring on her finger. Usually, the sight of it made her happy. Somehow, the ring symbolized all the new feelings he awakened in her.
She struggled to take in the words on the paper before her, her thoughts crowding her mind. Thinking back on the things Wolfe had said that meant so much to her, Miranda discovered a new uncertainty. His thoughtfulness, the way he seemed eager to please her, even the way he held her close after they made love... All these moments were suddenly suspect—like the fraudulent relationship they had.
Holding back tears, she didn’t bother reading the fine print. She signed. He can have his goddamn ring back anytime he wants.
***
Miranda slumped at a coffee shop table, a mug of cold coffee in front of her. Brooding about the legal documents she just signed left a sour taste in the mouth. She finally understood why he didn’t show up. The implications were glaring. Everything was a business deal…a deal wherein he didn’t trust her enough to keep her side of the bargain.
I feel like some first-class scam artist. Knowing the proposal came from Wolfe himself didn’t help. Neither did reminding herself of the practicality of having a document to rule their arrangement. If she were in his shoes, she’d probably have done the same.
So why did she still feel so hurt?
He proposed. You agreed. Now live with it. Miranda sighed.
This was just one of the numerous shitty events in her life. I should have remembered that love isn’t for people like me. Maybe if she had, she wouldn’t be here now nursing cold coffee, feeling sick inside and yet holding on to a sliver of hope that she was mistaken about Wolfe after all. She desperately wanted to be wrong.
This is all my fault. Wolfe showed her another side of life and she couldn't wait to enter the doorway that particular life promised. She wanted so badly to salvage something from her crushed feelings.
A sudden resolution surfaced. From now on, I’m going to be more vigilant about my own feelings. I’m going to be wary and protect myself. Miranda nodded, sitting up straight. She’d find a way to close the door she allowed Wolfe to open in her heart. Wolfe would be a short-lived experience that she would survive, she vowed.
But for now she had to play her part of the bargain. And she would play it so well that Wolfe will have no cause for complaint. That way... that way I’ll still have some semblance of dignity when this is all over.
Chapter Nine
Miranda stood by the window, hypnotized by the twinkling lights that bathed the city below. From this height, New York looked less like a city, more a constant stream of light. Lost in her thoughts, she didn’t hear the door open. She started as Wolfe snaked one arm around her waist and another across her chest, pulling her close and planting a kiss on her shoulder.
Miranda forced a smile. “Hi. Sorry I didn’t hear you come in.”
Wolfe was apologetic. “I’m sorry I couldn’t make the appointment with the lawyer…”
She lifted her chin proudly. “It’s alright, Wolfe. I managed by myself.”
Wolfe hesitated. “Everything went well?”
“Perfect.” She looked back out the window, determined to keep her resolution. She wouldn’t be swayed by Wolfe’s charms. But as she caught his reflection in the glass, she saw his eyes twinkling with an excitem
ent she couldn’t help but share.
“I have a surprise for you.”
Another gift I have to return to him someday? The thought depressed her. She squirmed out of his grasp and pretended to search for her phone.
Wolfe gave her a quizzical look. “Aren’t you interested to know what it is?”
“Of course I am.” She injected eagerness into her voice.
He looked at her intently. “Is something wrong?”
“No. Nothing’s wrong. Why do you ask?”
“I don’t know. You sound off like you had a bad day at the office.”
Miranda grabbed at the excuse. “Yeah, intense. We were swamped.” She couldn’t let him know she felt totally wrecked after the visit to the lawyer’s office. “I guess I’m still tired... So, what’s this surprise you mentioned?”
Wolfe strolled to the table. Miranda saw a cloth bag, and realized he must have deposited it there when he arrived. He tugged the cloth aside, revealing a bottle of Dom Perignon. “Tonight, we're celebrating your passage into the business of catering.”
She stared at him. “What passage? The kitchen’s not ready yet.”
“It is. I sent my people over to make sure everything was finished.”
Miranda eyed him suspiciously. “Why would you do that?”
“Because I just had this conversation with one Diane Simpson…”
Your mom?”
Wolfe nodded. “TalentPool Foundation is sponsoring an art exhibit at the Guggenheim. She mentioned needing a caterer for the party and I suggested you.”
Miranda was flabbergasted. Anything Diane Simpson got involved in was high profile. “But don’t those events require a selection process of some kind?”
Wolfe winked. “Mom is the acting Head of the foundation. She is thrilled at the idea of joining forces with her future daughter-in-law on something as important as this.”
“But it just seems so…huge.” Miranda sank into a chair. “I always imagined starting small... birthdays, weddings, those kinds of events.”
He quirked an eyebrow at her. “Do you doubt your mad skills?”
“No, of course not.” She turned to him, conscious of how weak her protest sounded. “It’s... It's just that I don’t think I’m ready. I haven’t even started with staffing which is a tedious process, and there’s the dry run to make sure that everything works…”
Wolfe sat down beside her, reaching for her hand. “I have no doubt in my mind that you can do this. It just seems overwhelming when you think of the many small details. If you need assistance, I can send some of my people over—”
“No!” Miranda bit her lip. That had come out more forcefully than she’d intended. She flushed as Wolfe raised his brows in surprise. “You’re right. I can do this.” She was reluctant to ask for more help, even as her conscience stabbed her. He was pleased to present her with this opportunity and she was acting so ungratefully.
“You’re okay with this?” Wolfe hesitated. “I just thought that working with Mom would help the two of you get to know each other better.” His expression turned rueful. “We dropped a bombshell on her when we announced our engagement. I think that if she gets to know you better, whatever doubts she has about us will go away.”
Miranda’s heart dropped. For a split second, she’d thought this was all about her success. How could I forget? This is business! Naturally Wolfe would make sure that everything went smoothly with the scheme.
“Alright. I see that this means a lot to you…and it’s for Diane’s charity. My success here means I can start the catering business. Then I can open the soup kitchen just as quickly.”
Wolfe shot an approving look. “That’s my girl.”
She looked away. “I’m not your girl,” she muttered under her breath.
“I know what’s bothering you.” Wolfe’s voice took on a husky tone. “We’ve both been so busy lately that we haven’t spent time together. I know exactly how to remedy that.”
He drew her into his arms, kissing her neck while caressing her back tenderly. “You want this, don’t you?” His muffled voice reached her as his lips traveled down to the base of her throat.
A traitorous tightness bloomed between her legs. Her body always betrayed her where Wolfe was concerned. She was on the verge of giving in when she caught herself. She stiffened and wriggled out of his embrace. “Sex isn’t the answer to everything. Besides, I have a headache.”
Wolfe sputtered in surprise. “That is such a typical feminist excuse.”
“And your presumption that sex solves everything smacks of chauvinism.” She shot back immediately.
“That’s not what I meant.”
“Of course it is.” Miranda stood, heading down the hall to the room that was now hers. She walked fast, but she wasn’t fast enough that she missed the confused expression on Wolfe’s face.
For a moment, she wavered. Wolfe clearly wondered what the hell had just happened. Then Miranda remembered her interview with the lawyer. This is how it has to be.
***
When Miranda emerged from her bedroom the next morning, she found Wolfe gone. As she made herself a solitary breakfast, she realized that she was wishing for his company.
Now that she’d calmed down, she could see Wolfe had handed her an opportunity on a golden platter. If she could pull off catering Diane’s event — and she had no doubt she could — she would demonstrate her mettle as a caterer and get her name in front of New York’s business leaders. It could jump start her business — which would garner publicity for her soup kitchen, and maybe even attract a sponsor or two. Why start small when she could do it with a splash?
The realization made her feel guilty. Clearly, Wolfe had good intentions. She’d wanted to go tell him she understood and was grateful. But she stopped short of leaving her room. The memory of her emotional upheaval at the lawyer’s office was still fresh in her mind.
I’ll talk to him tonight, Miranda vowed.
She hurried home from the restaurant and sat up, waited for him to come home so they could talk. The dinner she prepared cooled then finally congealed on its plates, but still, she waited. She was determined to apologize and make things right between them. Only when the clock struck midnight, did she give up, throwing the dinner out and deciding to go to bed. Wolfe hadn’t sent so much as a text message the whole day.
The next morning, Miranda heard a sound in the hallway. She stumbled out of bed, making her way to the door. Wolfe gave her a chilly greeting, and was out the door before she could even utter a word. Miranda stared after him, aghast. Wolfe’s coldness rattled her.
And her conscience bothered her even more. It’s my fault for introducing this barrier between us. The best thing to do was to make the catering for Diane’s event successful. That will make him happy.
She called Diane and asked for an appointment. Diane was thrilled, suggesting they meet at a teahouse in Manhattan. Miranda agreed and got to work immediately after the phone call ended. She arrived at the teahouse hours later, determined to impress.
Sitting with Wolfe’s mother in the elegant teahouse was another thing entirely. Miranda sat in silence, watching as Diane studied her menu. The older woman awed her. She was perfectly styled, from her hair, fashionable yet perfectly suited to her age and position, to the little finger, raised at just the right angle as she sipped her tea.
Diane put her teacup down. “Miranda, this is a perfect selection for the party.” Diane beamed at her. “The wine selection is on-point. And your idea of naming the dishes after famous paintings? Fabulous.” Diane clapped her hands together. “I like it.”
Miranda smiled. She’d spent hours painstakingly testing the dishes, making sure they complemented each other. She’d also spent some of those hours contemplating the wine list. She had no idea about the guest list but was willing to bet that it would be composed of names that appeared in the society pages of every major publication in the city.
Laughing at the story of Miranda’s dismal fail
ure to teach Wolfe to cook an omelet, Diane smiled. “I’m happy that Wolfe’s kitchen at the penthouse has finally found some use.” Diane leaned forward conspiratorially. “I’m so glad he is finally settling down. I never thought I’d see the day. I hope you start making those babies. I’m not getting any younger, you know, and I think I’d make a fabulous grandmother.”
Miranda suppressed a coughing fit. She plastered what she hoped was a demure smile on her face. “We haven’t really discussed that yet.”
“How silly of me! Talking about babies when there’s still a wedding to look forward too.” Diane patted Miranda’s hand reassuringly. “I hope you’ll allow me to be a part of that.”
“Of course. I’ll probably need all the help I can get.”
Diane looked ecstatic. Miranda felt even guiltier. She excused herself, saying she needed to get to work on the preparations. As she rose to leave, Diane hugged her enthusiastically. Miranda couldn’t leave the teahouse fast enough. Diane’s acceptance just made her more aware of the scam she was practicing. I’m the biggest fraud in the world.
***
Late that night, Miranda waved goodbye to the last of her kitchen staff. She lingered in the doorway, savoring the moment. Her vision now had a name. Dream Kitchen. Two simple words that summed up everything she always wanted. A kitchen where she could whip up good food and feed the hungry.
Fake Marriage with the CEO (A Billionaire Romance) Page 9
