Intimate Mergers

by Raleigh Davis

  So this is the infamous Amelia. There’s a tilt to her expression that just screams nobility, at least if she ever allowed herself to do something as classless as scream.

  “Amelia!” Lucy squeals. “I know you’re just dying to meet Grace. Paul’s fiancée.”

  Something flickers across Amelia’s expression, something like panic and surprise mixed together. She wrestles it under control very quickly though.

  I wonder if she knows she was brought here to marry Paul and if she suspects our engagement is a sham.

  “I am.” She holds out a slim hand for me to shake. “You’re a very lucky girl. Paul’s been one of Taiwan’s most eligible bachelors for years now.”

  Then why don’t you want to marry him? I don’t ask it of course, but I can’t imagine that whatever man she’s in love with could ever compare with Paul.

  “I know I am.” I smile serenely, just like I imagine a princess would.

  Lucy pulls us in closer together, like we’re having a girls-only conversation. Her smile widens, but it’s not a friendly one. “Amelia, you owe Grace a lot.” Her voice drops several degrees. “I hope you don’t forget it.”

  Suddenly I can see that Lucy isn’t quite as flighty as she pretends to be. Underneath her smiling exterior lies a lioness.

  Amelia’s face falls. “I know that. If I could’ve stopped all this, I would have.”

  Lucy’s smile never slips. “Actually, you could’ve if you were just honest with your parents.”

  Amelia looks horrified. “You know I can’t do that.”

  “Of course not. You don’t have the guts.”

  With that last shot, Lucy pulls me away. “Okay, now we can go rescue Paul. Not that he needs it.”

  I can only blink at her in shock. “I can’t believe you said that.”

  Lucy just shrugs. “It’s true. If Amelia had any kind of backbone, this whole situation could’ve been avoided years ago.”

  “She’s been in love with someone else for years?”

  Lucy snags a champagne flute from a passing waiter and hands it to me. “Oh yeah. She won’t give him up, and she won’t tell her parents. It’s a mess all around.”

  I couldn’t imagine hiding something like that from my parents for so long. How true can their love be if their families aren’t part of it?

  “That’s really too bad,” I say as I scan the room for Paul. He’s nowhere to be found though.

  Instinctively my heart jumps. He wouldn’t have left, not without me, but my anxiety spikes anyway. Lucy is perfectly nice and has been a great companion, but I need him.

  As if he heard my thoughts, Paul appears by my side then, holding a glass of what looks like whiskey. “Sorry,” he says. “I got caught up in talking to people. And then Archie wanted to chat.”

  Archie. That’s a name I don’t need to search my memory for. He’s the oldest cousin and something of a thorn in Paul’s side. Paul didn’t give too many details, but some reading between the lines tells me that Archie wants Paul’s role as head of the family.

  Lucy rolls her eyes. “What’s that little wannabe tyrant up to now?”

  Paul sends her a scolding look. “Please don’t call him that to his face. I just spent the past ten minutes convincing him I was definitely returning home to assume control. Apparently he thinks Mother is slipping.”

  Lucy’s laugh is sharp and short. “Mom could have a lobotomy and she’d still have more business sense than Archie.”

  “True, but he’s also close to getting a majority of the board on his side. Since I don’t want to have a mutiny on my hands, I have to placate him.”

  Lucy makes a dismissive noise. “You’re too nice to him.”

  Paul turns to me. “When my dad died, Archie’s dad was the next oldest brother and should have taken over the company. When Mother did instead, they felt slighted. Perhaps rightfully.”

  “They wouldn’t have done half as well as Mom did,” Lucy says.

  Paul takes a sip from his glass instead of answering her, his gaze running over me. I feel like I should say something—I’m guessing he’ll spend all night satisfying everyone here, and I want to give him a moment of peace or laughter or something—but my voice is gone. His gaze is just that potent.

  “I’ll leave you two alone.” Before she even finishes the sentence, Lucy turns and walks away.

  I’m grateful but also nervous. If my body was just slightly less aware of his, this would be so much easier. Except my body is so, so aware of him. So alive and humming thanks to his presence that it hurts.

  And he’s going to be leaving soon.

  “What will happen to Bastard Capital when you leave?”

  He drops his gaze, his mouth pursing as he studies the floor. “Bastard Capital was for fun. Now I need to become the head of the family.”

  His gaze is distant and unfocused, like he’s staring at a future he doesn’t want. I know the exact feeling.

  I take his arm because it seems like that’s what I’m expected to do. I notice a few people are watching us—I’d better give them a show.

  “It probably won’t be so bad,” I say. “You just have to keep placating wannabe tyrant Archie for the next fifty years.”

  He nearly chokes on his drink. “Did you really just call him that? And God forbid he lives another fifty years. He’s never getting control of the company—he’d save us all a lot of trouble if he knocked it off.”

  He shifts, coming closer to me, our thighs brushing. A shiver runs through me.

  “Speak of the devil,” Paul says, looking past my shoulder, “here he comes.”

  I take a deep, steadying breath before I turn around, because I’ve still got the shivers and this will be one of the most important introductions of the night.

  When I do turn, Paul immediately puts a hand to the small of my back. He’s got a hint of a smile on his face, like he’s looking forward to this, but the tension in the fingers pressing into my back tell the truth.

  Archie looks exactly like I was expecting—plush and coddled, with a smug look that’s begging for everyone to recognize how smart he is. His wife, Wendy, trails behind him. She lives in Los Angeles, and they only spend time together when Archie is here in the States. She’s sleek and sharp in contrast to him, with the kind of muscles that come from long hours of careful sculpting in the gym.

  His smile is wide but disingenuous; hers is small and unpleasant.

  “They’re clearly perfect for each other,” I whisper to Paul.

  He bites back a laugh as they come toward us. “Archie. Have you met Grace?”

  Archie gives me a quick nod although he knows that we haven’t been introduced yet. I suppose I’m not important enough for him to care about. “You left before I could finish discussing my proposal for that building in Hong Kong.”

  I can feel Paul internally rolling his eyes. “I’d rather not talk business tonight. We’re here to meet my fiancée.”

  Oh crap. Their attention focuses fully on me. I keep my polite princess expression on even as I lean into Paul’s hand.

  Archie’s wife swivels her head toward me. The gesture makes chills run over my skin. “How did you two meet? No one in the family’s mentioned you before.” Her head tilts. “Not even Paul.”

  I freeze even though that’s the worst possible reaction. I know we came up with a backstory, somewhere between all the quizzes about his family, but it’s not coming to me.

  “I’m involved with a start-up he invested in,” I say. I think that’s what we decided on, and it’s not exactly a lie. It’s also not very convincing.

  Paul slides his hand around my back to my waist, pulling me into the curve of his body. Again his scent makes my brain scramble. “It’s not a very exciting story, I’m afraid. We spent some time together, and I simply realized…” He looks deep into my eyes, his lips parting slightly. He looks… enchanted. A prince coming under a spell. “I realized she was the one. That I couldn’t spend my life without her.”

&nbs
p; He’s an excellent liar, and I almost believe him myself. He’s looking at me like he can’t wait to get me alone. I can feel my cheeks heating. Thankfully his family won’t expect us to be too physically affectionate since it’s bad manners, but in that moment, I can almost imagine him kissing me senseless. A kiss to put a seal on our hearts.

  And after that kiss, he’d kiss me to open my body entirely to him—

  I clear my throat, hard. “I think our story is romantic. Paul’s a very charming man. He can make any situation feel special.”

  Like he’s doing right now.

  “Hmm” is all Wendy says, and I can already see what she’s thinking—gold digger.

  Well, considering what Paul’s going to pay me for my time, I guess she’s not wrong.

  “Your mother says you’re going to announce your engagement at the gala.” Archie nods approvingly. “That’s good PR. Smart of you to think of it.”

  Paul smiles indulgently. “It was actually Mother’s idea. I wanted a simple announcement for just the family, but she’s always thinking about what’s best for the company.”

  Archie goes a rather angry shade of red. Probably because Paul’s just called him out for his rude words about Paul’s mother, albeit in a very subtle way.

  There are some sputtering noises from Archie, which Paul ignores. Instead, he points to the head table. “Speaking of Mother, we really should chat with her,” he says.

  His hand around my waist squeezes, as if I’m in for the best gift ever when we talk to her.

  Archie’s wife assumes an exaggerated expression of surprise. “When did your mother meet her? I thought she just flew in.”

  “Only briefly at the office earlier.” Paul isn’t a bit fazed. “Mother came straight from the airport.”

  Archie looks way too pleased with himself for my taste. “Too bad you’ll have to leave all this kid stuff behind when you go home for good. But we all have to grow up sometime.”

  As if what Paul does here is playing around. I can feel my chest puffing up with indignation on Paul’s behalf.

  I’m half tempted to snap at Archie, but instead I put on that serene smile that I’ve been practicing. “Paul’s very good at managing his time,” I say. “I’m sure he’ll be able to handle running the family holdings and doing whatever else he wants on the side. Most people can’t manage that, or much of anything”—I give Archie a cold look—“but he can.”

  Before Archie can react, Paul leads me away. Oh crap, I think I might have gone a bit too far. I’m supposed to be ingratiating myself with the family, not antagonizing them.

  But Paul’s expression is admiring and a little surprised. My heart lifts when I see it. “Maybe you know how to deal with Archie even better than I do.”

  “I doubt that.”

  Paul takes me slowly, steadily toward his mother. Other family members try to catch his eye, but he ignores them.

  I wish I had his poise. I’m about to meet his mother again. Freaking out doesn’t even begin to describe what my insides are doing.

  But I keep my smile on my face because Paul is counting on me. I’ve come this far; I can do this.

  She’s sitting at the head of the table, watching over the family as they eat. Whereas everyone was swarming Paul and demanding his attention, the family keeps a respectful distance around her. No one is going to demand anything from this woman. She’s beyond that.

  Even though all this is fake, I still desperately want to pass her inspection. What woman wouldn’t want to be deemed worthy of marrying Paul?

  Paul approaches her respectfully but not deferentially. Based on the light in his eyes, he really does love his mom. She’s not exactly warm and fuzzy, but there’s definitely affection between them.

  She turns her sharp gaze on me, waiting.

  “Mother, I wanted you and Grace to have a chance to get to know each other.” Paul brings me one step closer to her.

  I bow, trying to make it as elegant and respectful as possible.

  His mother says nothing, continuing to inspect me very, very carefully.

  I can’t blame her, to be honest. I think she might actually be right about Paul needing a wife as he assumes control of the family holdings. If Cousin Archie is any indication, there are some people who are going to have it in for Paul. He’s going to need someone trustworthy at his back.

  It won’t be me of course, but he still deserves that person.

  “So you’re the woman my son’s going to marry.” It’s not a question, and it’s not welcoming. Already I can see she has her doubts about all this.

  “Yes,” I say quietly, my eyes downcast. “I hope to make him a good wife.”

  A small smile toys at the edges of her mouth. I suspect she’s guessed what I’m doing, that my answer is as practiced as her expression.

  “Have you met everyone yet?”

  “Oh yes. Everyone’s been so kind.”

  His mother makes a noise that sounds suspiciously like a snort, only way more ladylike. “I’m certain they were. You understand that Paul is going to be returning home soon? That he’ll be taking over a very great responsibility?”

  She’s not wasting time with subtlety, which I actually appreciate. Paul has important duties, and she wants to make sure I understand those duties.

  “Yes, we’ve discussed it. Paul’s very eager to take his place as head of the family, and I want to help him any way I can.”

  That’s not entirely a lie: I’m here, lying to this woman, in order to help Paul. I find myself wishing I could get the chance to explain that to her once our charade is done.

  But I won’t. She’ll likely despise me if she ever discovers the truth. She definitely won’t be happy when I “leave” her son in a few weeks.

  “And your job here?” she asks. “Won’t you be upset to leave it?”

  This is not the time and place to mention that I’m unemployed and about to lose my visa. “If—when—I marry Paul, that will be my job. Being his wife.”

  Her expression flickers like she’s displeased. But I thought the whole point of Paul having to marry was to have a wife entirely focused on him.

  “When is the wedding?” she asks.

  “We haven’t set a date yet,” Paul says. “I have to plan the move back to Taipei first.”

  “And when is that happening?” his mother asks sharply.

  “Soon.” Paul’s tone gets a little cold, a little hard. “I can’t just up and leave at a moment’s notice.”

  His mother closes her eyes very briefly. It might have been a simple blink, but she held it just a bit too long. She looks almost tired. Or at least as tired as she’ll allow herself to be.

  “Paul understands that he needs to return home soon,” I say quickly.

  Paul gives me a surprised look, as if he wasn’t expecting me to jump in. But he doesn’t seem to be taking his mother’s request that seriously.

  “That’s right,” he says. “You’ll be able to retire very soon, I promise. And I’ll do an excellent job running the company. I won’t let it fail. I won’t let this family fail.”

  When he says that, the assembled people seem to take on a weight, one that settles right on Paul’s shoulders. This family refers to everyone in this room. And everyone I haven’t met back in Taiwan. All those people are Paul’s personal responsibility.

  His mother’s expression eases, then shifts into something resolute. “No, you won’t.”

  It’s not comforting, it’s not reassuring—and I’m not sure it’s what Paul needs to hear.

  Chapter Seven

  For the first time in two hours, I don’t have someone clamoring for my attention. I’m taking advantage by sitting in a corner and watching Grace as she charms my oldest aunt.

  She’s been amazing tonight. And she looks amazing. She did something with her hair, twisting it up and putting orchids in it, that makes me want to undo it, flowers falling to the floor as her hair spreads over her bare shoulders—

  “Chanel?�
� Lucy says, scaring the shit out of me as she takes the chair next to me. “How terribly predictable. It doesn’t suit her at all.”

  “Did you see me enjoying myself and decide to ruin it?”

  Lucy turns a serious expression on me. “I really like her. And you need to let her dress herself.”

  “Grace looks fine.” We both watch her as she chats with Auntie May. “She looks…”

  The words that come to me aren’t really words—more like sensations. A strand of hair has slipped free of her updo and is caressing her neck, her cheeks are flushed, and she’s laughing at something May has said, which all comes together to make her sparkle. How am I supposed to notice what she’s wearing when the rest of her is so beautiful?

  Lucy clicks her tongue. “Chanel is for old ladies and young women edgy enough to pull off that stodgy look. Grace needs to be in something… very different. Something sweeter.”

  “High fashion that’s sweet?” I check out Lucy’s dress, which is in stark shades of white and black, and boots with heels that could kill a man. “You’re out of your mind.”

  My sister sighs heavily. “It’s really sad how little you know about women.” She ignores my spluttering protest. “I’ll take her shopping. I’ll fix all this.”

  I’ve been busting my ass all night convincing my family that Grace and I are madly in love, but my sister’s going to “fix all this.” Right.

  “Be my guest. I didn’t have much time today, what with Mother showing up unannounced.” And finding a fake fiancée and tutoring her in our long family history and getting this entire dinner together. But of course my annoying sister zeros in on the most unimportant aspect of the whole thing.

  Lucy taps her nails against the table. They’re long, dark red, and fake—and something our mother would hate.

  “Don’t get Grace that kind of manicure though,” I say, pointing to her nails.

  Lucy examines them, smiling as she does. “They really did come out gorgeous. But no, Grace needs something shorter, maybe in a dark berry.” Lucy’s head swings up, her gaze catching on Amelia. Her eyes narrow in a way I can only call mean.