A Very Exclusive Engagement

by Andrea Laurence

  “And speaking of food, I did invite you over here for lunch. Are you hungry?”

  Ariella shoved her notebook into her purse and stood up. “No time to eat, darling. I’ve got a wedding to put together.”

  Francesca followed her to the door and gave Ariella a huge hug. “Thank you for all your help with this. I know I haven’t made anything easy on you two.”

  “Do you know how many bridezillas we usually have to work with? You’re easy. Anyway, that’s what friends do—pull off the impossible when necessary. It’s only fair considering you just talked me off the proverbial ledge over this stuff with my birth mother. And taking on a huge job like this will take my mind off everything, especially that upcoming reunion show.”

  The president had agreed to Liam’s show proposal right before the gala. Francesca had jumped from one event to the next, getting everything in place for the televised reunion. “You don’t have to do it, you know. You can change your mind.”

  “No, I can’t.” Ariella smiled and stepped through the doorway. “I’ll email you our preliminary plans and menus to look over tomorrow afternoon.”

  Francesca nodded and watched her friend walk to her car. It all seemed so surreal. She would be married in three days. Married. To a man she’d known less than a month. To a man she’d grown to love, but who she knew didn’t feel the same way about her.

  A deep ache of unease settled in her stomach. She’d first felt the sensation when the shock wore off and she realized they were getting married on a Friday. That was considered to be very bad luck. Italians never married on a Friday. Unfortunately, the hotel wasn’t available any other day.

  Francesca hadn’t seen a single good omen since that ladybug landed on Liam’s shoulder. Marrying Liam was looking more and more like a bad idea. But there was nothing she could do about it now.

  *

  Liam clutched a thick envelope of paperwork and a sack of Thai takeout as he went up the stairs to Francesca’s town house. He’d met with his lawyer today to go over some details for the marriage. Now he planned to help Francesca with some packing.

  “Hello,” he yelled as he came through the door.

  “I’m upstairs,” Francesca answered.

  He shut the door behind him and surveyed the neat stacks of labeled and sealed boxes in the foyer. “I have dinner.”

  “I’ll be right there.”

  Francesca came down the stairs a few minutes later. Her hair was in a ponytail. She was wearing a nicely fitted tank top and capris with sneakers. It was a very casual look for her and he liked it. He especially liked the flush that her hard work brought to her cheeks and the faint glisten of sweat across her chest. It reminded him of the day they met.

  God, that felt like ages ago. Could it really have been only a few weeks? Now here he was, helping her pack and clutching a draft of their prenuptial agreement in his hands.

  “I see you’ve been hard at work today.”

  She nodded and self-consciously ran her hands over her hair to smooth it. “I probably look horrible.”

  “Impossible,” he said, leaning in to give her a quick kiss. “I picked up some Thai food on the way from the lawyer’s office.”

  “Lawyer’s office?” Francesca started for the kitchen and he followed behind her.

  “Yes. I got a draft of the prenup ready for you to look over.”

  Francesca stopped dead in her tracks, plates from the cabinet in each hand. Her skin paled beneath her olive complexion. There was a sudden and unexpected hurt in her eyes, as though he’d slapped her without warning. She set down the plates and quickly turned to the refrigerator.

  “Are you okay?” Liam frowned. Certainly she knew that with the size of both their estates they needed to put in some protective measures now that they were making their relationship legally binding.

  “Yes, I’m fine,” she said, but she didn’t look at him. Instead, she opened the refrigerator door and searched for something. “What do you want to drink?”

  “I don’t care,” he said. Liam put the food and paperwork on the counter and walked over to her. “You’re upset about this. Why?”

  “I’m not,” she insisted with a dismissive shake of her head, but he could tell she was lying. “It just surprised me. We hadn’t talked about it. But, of course, it makes sense. This is a business arrangement, not a love match.”

  The sharpness in her tone when she said “love match” sent up a red flag in Liam’s mind. He wished he could have seen her expression when she said it, but she was digging through the refrigerator. Then again, maybe he didn’t want to see it. He might find more than he planned for.

  He’d chosen Francesca for this partly because he thought she could detach emotionally from things. After she walked away from the elevator, he thought she could handle this like a champ. Maybe he was wrong. They’d spent a lot of time together recently. They’d had dinner, talked for hours, made love…. It had felt very much like a real relationship. Perhaps she was having real feelings.

  Francesca thrust a soda can at him and he took it from her. She spun on her heel and started digging in the takeout bag. “So what are the high points?” she asked, popping open a carton of noodles.

  She would barely look at him. She was avoiding something. Maybe the truth of the situation was in her eyes, so she was shielding him from it. If she was feeling something for him, she didn’t want him to know about it. So he decided not to press her on the subject right now and opted just to answer her question. “Everything that is yours stays yours. Everything that is mine stays mine.”

  She nodded, dumping some chicken onto her plate. “That sounds fairly sensible. Anything else?”

  “My lawyer insisted on an elevator clause for you. I couldn’t tell him it wasn’t necessary since we only plan to be married for a year. He said he likes to put them in all his prenups, so I figured it was better for it to be more authentic anyway.”

  “What is an elevator clause?”

  “In our case, it entitles you to a lump sum of money on our first anniversary and an additional sum every year of our marriage after that. The money goes in trust to you in lieu of an alimony agreement. The longer we stay married, the more you’re given.”

  Francesca turned to him, her brow furrowed. “I don’t want your money, Liam. That wasn’t part of our agreement.”

  “I know, but I want you to have it. You’ve gone far beyond what we originally discussed and you deserve it. I’m totally uprooting your life.”

  “How much?”

  “Five million for the first year. Another million every year after that. Milestone anniversaries—tenth, twentieth, etc., earn another five million.”

  “Five million dollars for one year of marriage? That’s ridiculous. I don’t want anything to do with that.”

  “If we pull this off, I’m inheriting my aunt’s entire estate and all her ANS stock. That’s somewhere in the ballpark of two billion dollars. I’d gladly give you ten million if you wanted it. Why not take it?”

  “Because it makes me look like a gold digger, Liam. It’s bad enough that we’re getting married knowing it’s just for show to make your aunt happy. If people find out I walked away after a year with five million bucks in my pocket…I just…” She picked up her plate and dumped rice onto it with an angry thump of the spoon. “It makes me feel like some kind of a call girl.”

  “Whoa,” Liam said, putting his hands up defensively. “Now back up here. If we were getting married because we were in love, we’d probably have the same prenuptial agreement. Why would that be any different?”

  Francesca shook her head. “I don’t know. It just feels wrong.”

  Liam took the plate from her hand and set it on the counter. He wrapped his arms around Francesca’s waist and tugged her against him. When she continued to avoid his gaze, he hooked her chin with his finger and forced her face to turn up to him. He wanted her to hear every word he had to say. “No one is going to think you’re a gold digger. You will have e
arned every penny of that money over the next year. And not,” he clarified, “on your back. As my wife, you’re like an on-call employee twenty-four hours a day for a year.”

  He could tell his explanation both helped and hurt his cause. It justified the money but reduced her to staff as opposed to a wife. And that wasn’t true. She was more than that to him. But if she was having confusing feelings about their relationship, would telling her make it worse?

  “This isn’t just some business arrangement anymore, Francesca. We’re getting married. It may not be for the reasons that other people get married, but the end result is the same. You didn’t have to agree to do this for me or for the network, but you chose to anyway. You’re…important to me. So I’m choosing to share some of the benefits with you. Not just because you’ve earned them or because you deserve them. And you do. But because I want to give the money to you. You can donate every dime to charity, if you’d like. But I want you to have it regardless.”

  That got through. Francesca’s expression softened and she nodded in acceptance before burying her face in his chest. Liam clutched her tightly and pressed a kiss into the dark strands of her hair.

  It wasn’t until that moment that he realized what a large price they were both paying to save the network and protect his dream. The reward would be huge, but the emotional toll would be high.

  Five million didn’t seem like nearly enough to cover it.

  Eleven

  Liam stood at the entrance to the terrace where the ceremony would take place. As instructed, he was wearing a black tuxedo with a white dress shirt and white silk tie and vest. A few minutes earlier, Ariella had pinned a white gardenia to his lapel. He looked every bit the proper groom, even if he didn’t feel quite like one.

  Beyond the doors was possibly the greatest wedding ever assembled on such short notice. Rows of white chairs lined an aisle strewn with swirls of white and pink rose petals. Clusters of flowers and light pink tulle draping connected the rows. A small platform was constructed at the front to allow everyone a better view of the ceremony. A large archway of white roses and hydrangeas served as a backdrop and were the only thing blocking the view of the city and the sunset that would be lighting the sky precisely as they said their vows.

  About an hour ago, Ariella had given him a sneak peek of the ballroom where the reception would be. It seemed as if an army of people was working in there, getting everything set up. The walls were draped in white fabric with up-lighting that changed the colors of the room from white, to pink, to gray. Tables were covered with white and delicate pink linens with embroidered overlays. Centerpieces alternated between tall, silver candelabras dripping with flowers and strings of crystals and low, tightly packed clusters of flowers and thick, white candles in hurricane vases. In the corner was a six-tiered wedding cake. Each round tier was wrapped at the base with a band of Swarovski crystals. The cake was topped with a white and pink crystal-studded C.

  It was beautiful. Elegant. And completely wasted on their wedding, he thought with a pang of guilt.

  Nervous, and without a herd of groomsmen to buy him shots in the hotel bar, he’d opted to greet guests as they came through the door. The wedding party itself was small with no attendants, but there were nearly a hundred guests. It had been a lightning-quick turnaround with electronic RSVPs, but nearly everyone invited had said yes, even if just out of morbid curiosity. So far, no one had asked any tacky questions at the door, like when the baby was due, but he was certain talk was swirling around the crowd inside.

  “Ten minutes,” Scarlet reminded him as she brushed by him in her headset, a clipboard clutched to her chest.

  Ten minutes. Liam swallowed hard and pasted the wedding-day smile back on his face. In less than a half hour, he would be legally bonded to Francesca with all his friends and family as witnesses. A month ago, he’d been celebrating his purchase of ANS and looking forward to the excitement of fulfilling his dream of running a major network. Now he was about to marry a virtual stranger to keep the dream from crumbling into a nightmare.

  “Liam,” a proper female voice called to him.

  He looked up to see Aunt Beatrice rolling toward him in a wheelchair pushed by Henry. He knew she was sick, but seeing her in a wheelchair was startling. Surely she could still walk? He thought back to every time he’d seen her in the past month. She had already been seated whenever he arrived. On their last few visits, she hadn’t so much as stood up or walked over to get something from her bag. Now he realized it was because she couldn’t. She’d done well hiding it until now.

  “Aunt Beatrice,” he said with a smile, leaning down to plant a kiss on her cheek. “And Henry,” he added, shaking the butler’s hand. He had a new appreciation for the quiet, older man who had served and loved his aunt all these years. “Seats have been reserved for you both in the first row on the right.”

  Aunt Beatrice nodded, and Henry rolled them into the room. There wasn’t a “congratulations” or a “last chance to back out” from her. She hadn’t even bothered to question him about his and Francesca’s relationship any longer. He supposed that even if they were faking it, as long as it was legally binding, she was getting her way. She probably figured that within a year, they’d fall for each other for real. Or she’d be dead and wouldn’t care any longer.

  “Liam,” Ariella said, approaching him quietly from the side. “We have a problem.”

  He wasn’t surprised. As quickly as this had come together, things were bound to go awry. “What is it?”

  “Security has spotted an uninvited guest in the lobby heading this way.”

  Liam frowned. “Who? A reporter?”

  “Sort of. Angelica Pierce. How would you like us to handle this?”

  Oh. That was certainly cause for a bit of excitement, especially where Ariella was concerned because Angelica had been suspended for her possible involvement in the hacking scandal that had revealed Ariella as the president’s secret daughter. “Don’t do anything. She’s liable to make a scene if we have her escorted out. Better just to let her come and act like it’s not a big deal.”

  Ariella nodded. “Agreed.” She turned away and muttered into her headset. “Five minutes,” she added, before disappearing toward the room serving as a bridal suite.

  Liam busied himself greeting other guests and tried not to worry about Angelica. He’d only met the woman in person once, and he got the distinct impression that she was a suck-up who would do anything to keep her job. Right now, she was suspended pending the results of Hayden Black’s investigation, so he wasn’t surprised she’d shown up today. She was here to make an appearance and kiss up to her boss and his new bride.

  He hoped that was all she was up to. He knew for a fact that Hayden and his fiancée, Lucy Royall, were already inside. Lucy was Graham Boyle’s stepdaughter and there was some bad blood between her and Angelica. With any luck, they would sit far apart and not cross paths the whole evening. But he wasn’t feeling very lucky today.

  That’s when he saw her. “Angelica,” he said with a smile, accepting the hug she offered. “So good to see you.” He wanted to keep this evening together, so he wasn’t about to let on that she was an unwelcome party crasher.

  Angelica seemed very pleased by the warm welcome. She’d certainly dressed up for the occasion, looking radiant even, if not a touch heavier than she had been a few weeks ago. Her face was rounder and her purple dress was a bit snug. The stress of Hayden’s investigation must have been catching up with her.

  “I wouldn’t miss this for the world. I just love weddings. And my boss’s wedding is an especially important event. I wish you both great happiness together.”

  Liam smiled and thanked her, turning to the next guests approaching. It was his rival network’s former star, Max Gray and his new bride, Cara. They’d been married in March and had just come back from their extended honeymoon in Australia. The two of them were practically beaming with love for each other, and Cara’s dress showed the gentle swell of he
r pregnancy. She had started doing public relations for D.C. Affairs since leaving the White House, but he could tell that motherhood was her true calling. She was just glowing.

  As they approached the door, they both stopped to watch Angelica go inside. Max’s jaw dropped, his eyes widening. His field research had helped uncover the hacking scandal back in January. “What is she doing here?” he asked.

  Liam shrugged. “Trying to make friends, I suppose. Did you two have a nice trip?”

  “Amazing,” Cara said. “We slept in late, ate great food, did some sightseeing. It was wonderful. Where are you and Francesca going on your honeymoon?”

  That was a good question. “We don’t have anything planned yet. Things moved so fast and work has been so busy, we haven’t had a chance. We’re hoping things will slow down soon and we’ll have the opportunity to get away. Sounds like a trip to Australia is a great choice. I’ll have to talk to you two about it more later.”

  Max and Cara went to their seats and the last few arriving guests followed them. Liam straightened his tie and took a deep breath as he saw Scarlet and another man in a suit heading toward him with determination and purpose.

  “Okay, showtime. This is your officiant, Reverend Templeton. He will go down the aisle first, then you. We’ll seat the parents, and then the bride will come down the aisle with her father. Are you ready, Liam?”

  That was another good question. He was ready as he was ever going to be for a corporate, shotgun marriage of convenience. The only thing that made him feel better was that he’d get to spend the next year with a sexy spitfire who made his blood boil with passion and excitement.

  “I am.”

  *

  Francesca sat still as stone at her dressing table, letting her mother pin the large, white gardenia in her hair. Looking at herself in the mirror, she was the perfect image of a beautiful bride on her big day. Her shiny, black hair was twisted up into an intricate updo, the gardenia pinned just to the side. Her makeup was airbrushed and flawless. She’d found the perfect gown in her size without much trouble. Even with such a time crunch, everything had worked out just as it should. It was as though this wedding was meant to be.