by Tasha Fawkes
“About the contract…” she said.
“Yes.” I nodded. “I’ll go see my lawyer first thing tomorrow morning. I’ll arrange for the contract and get the down payment.” I glanced at her with a lifted eyebrow. “Is a check okay or do you want cold, hard cash?”
Another flush reddened her cheeks as she looked up at me, nibbling on her lip.
“Cash please?”
That startled me, but only for a moment. At this point I didn’t give a crap why she needed the money, except for one thing. I hated to ask, but felt like I should throw it out there. “You don’t do drugs, do you?”
She stared at me for several moments, her lips firm again, pressed together with annoyance, or so I thought. While her expression remained blank, I saw the pulse throbbing in her neck. Quite emotional, wasn’t she?
“No, I don’t do drugs. I don’t drink and I don’t smoke.” Again, the narrowed eyes. “Do you?”
I shook my head. “No drugs, no smoking, although I do indulge in a Scotch now and then.”
“Put that in the contract,” she said firmly. “I have no intention of living with someone who does drugs or drinks to excess.” She shuddered. “And I mean that.”
I grinned. “What do you define as excessive?”
She gave it some thought, which surprised me. A woman her age against alcohol? My heart skipped a beat. This was crazy. For all I knew she could be a preacher’s daughter. We might be at each other’s throats within days. She might make my life a living hell. But at this moment, I supposed it didn’t matter. I also realized that in order for this farce to succeed, I would have to sacrifice a thing or two.
“Well, I suppose a Scotch or two every evening is acceptable. But if I start smelling alcohol coming out of your pores or if you get near me with alcohol breath, or you make any untoward advances on me because you’re stinking drunk, this deal is off, you understand?”
No sense in scaring her off. I had to cut back on that for the time being anyway. If she was a teetotaler, being around someone who got drunk would be the fastest way to end this deal. I nodded.
“So what we do from here?”
“Let’s meet tomorrow for coffee. That’s safe enough, isn’t it?”
“Where?”
“What’s convenient for you?”
She thought about it a moment. “The coffee shop near the southwest corner of the university. On Remington. You know it?”
I shook my head. “I’ll find it.”
She nodded, then glanced around awkwardly. “We should exchange phone numbers.”
She pulled her phone from her back pocket, tapped the screen, and looked up at me, waiting. I gave her my phone number and then, because she appeared to expect it, I pulled my phone from my pocket and she gave me hers.
“Well then,” she said.
“Well then,” I repeated, offering my hand. “Thank you, Dana Sommers. You won’t regret this.”
She glanced at my hand but then reluctantly took it, offering an abbreviated shake.
“I already do.”
With that, she turned and walked off, and I let her. It could’ve gone worse. A lot worse. And fortune seemed to smile down on me. She was a looker, obviously intelligent, and even more obviously, someone who wasn’t about to be pushed around. She might be desperate for money, but I was more desperate, if that was possible.
I returned to the restaurant to fill Nick in on what had transpired. Before I got into the lobby I dialed Fredrick’s number. When he answered, I kept my message brief.
“I need to see you tomorrow morning. Eight o’clock, your office. And this is just between you and me. My dad doesn’t know, got it?”
“Brady, what’s this about?”
“I’ll explain in the morning. But I don’t want Dad to know I’m coming to see you. Okay?”
“Fine.”
The call disconnected, and I entered the lobby, my head spinning. I felt relief, but also a bit of anxiety. I had crossed the first hurdle, but I still had plenty more in front of me.
*
“I need fifty thousand dollars,” I said, sitting across the desk from Frederick. While he was my dad’s lawyer, he was also, by default, mine.
“What for?” Frederick asked, not impressed.
He sat stiffly in his chair, arms resting on the dark brown blotter, hands loosely clasped. As usual, his desk was spotless. Did he ever do anything? By the way he looked at me, I could tell he was suspicious. “It’s for some expenses.”
He lifted an eyebrow, and I knew that if I wanted him to unlock my accounts or at least give me access to some of my money, I would have to give him something. “My fiancée needs some new clothes, and I’m doing a few renovations on my apartment. She’s moving in, you know.”
The look he gave me was one of patient indulgence. He knew me. I’d known him my entire life, and he knew of my… well, let’s just say he knew the good, the bad, and the ugly. He knew I never dated, at least not anymore. He knew I never got serious about the women in my life. He knew that I never, ever, allowed the women I spent any time with into my apartment. I always slept at their place or got a hotel room. So I could leave anytime I wanted. So I didn’t have to deal with any emotional fallout from my—
“What’s going on, Brady? You don’t have girlfriends, and now you’re telling me you have a fiancée? Did you pick someone up in Spain?”
“No,” I said. I wasn’t about to get into details that he could use at a later time to trap me.
“I’m serious, Frederick. I’m engaged. Her name is Dana Sommers. She’s from here. Dallas. I need you to take the block off my credit cards, my ATM card, and give back my access to my bank accounts.”
He stared at me. “You need fifty thousand dollars. Today.”
“Yes.”
“It’s not for Nick?”
I sighed. He was also more than familiar with Nick. “No, Frederick, it’s not for Nick. I told you it’s for my fiancée.”
He did that thing with his mouth. Not quite a frown, not quite a smirk. I sighed. He didn’t believe me. Not surprising. I knew I would have to tell him what was going on. He also needed to draft the contract. Still, I hesitated.
“Brady, what’s going on?” He unfolded his hands and leaned back in his chair.
I hesitated. What if he refused to go along with my plan? What if he decided to tell my dad? What if—
“Brady, in this circumstance, you’re my client. Everything we discuss here is privileged information. It doesn’t go beyond this room. Do you understand?”
Frederick knew just about everything that went on with my family. I also knew that he was an honest man, extremely loyal to my dad, but there had been times when he tried to help me out. Sure, this was one of the worst, but I also knew that if he swore confidentiality, I could believe him.
So, I told him everything. Every last annoying detail. Oddly, I saw many of the same expressions appear on his face that I had seen on Dana’s. Finally, he leaned forward, his body posture stiff, a frown of concern tugging at his eyebrows.
“Well then, you’re in quite a pickle, aren’t you, Brady?”
One of Frederick’s odd ways of expressing a conundrum. “Yes, I am.”
He shook his head. “I understand that you feel you don’t have any other options,” he said. “And I have to admit, just between you and me and the fence post, that I think Clint has gone overboard with this demand.” He held up a hand to hold off any comments. “But I do understand his motivations, I do. And that’s all I’ll say on the matter.”
I said nothing, although I did feel comforted by the fact that at least, in this room, he appeared to be on my side.
“At the same time, I think we both know that there won’t be any changing your dad’s mind about this. He’s very serious about you settling down, getting married, and starting a family of your own.”
I opened my mouth to interrupt, but Frederick again lifted a hand.
“Brady, maybe it is time that you set
tled down and started acting your age. You’re not a teenager anymore. You’re a man. An intelligent man who can do anything you set your mind to.” He paused, his expression earnest. “Even if you don’t want to take over your father’s holdings, it is time to figure out what you want out of life besides partying. Don’t you think so?”
I shrugged.
“You know what they say, don’t you?”
I peered at him. “What do you mean?”
“That it’s okay to behave this way in your twenties, but when you hit thirty, it’s just lame.”
I didn’t want to admit it, but he was right. I did need to figure out what the hell I wanted to do with my life. I couldn’t just—
“But before you sign on the dotted line, and before you have this woman sign the contract, I want you to understand, Brady, that this isn’t a game. It’s not just a means to an end to get back your access to your bank accounts.”
I heard the somber tone and listened.
“This is not only affecting your life, but it’s affecting hers. It’s also going to affect friends and family. And then you bring a baby into the mix and… well, I think you understand that lives are not to be toyed with.”
I did realize that. I’d been purposely avoiding it from the very moment that Nick introduced me to Dana. But as long as we both agreed to keep our emotions to ourselves, to not get personally involved, everything would work out okay. My dad would have his grandchild. Dana would have the freedom and financial means to move on with her life. As far as I was concerned, she was a surrogate, one that would serve my purposes and give my father what he wanted so he’d get off my back.
“Come back at one o’clock. I’ll have a contract drawn up. I’ll also have a check for you.”
“Cash,” I said.
He shook his head. “No cash. I’ll draft a check.”
“But—”
“No buts, Brady.”
I realized I shouldn’t push my luck. I nodded and he reached for a desk drawer, all business now. Summarily dismissed, I left his office, glanced at my watch, and realized with some dismay that I was actually looking forward to seeing Dana later on today.
Chapter Eleven
Dana
I sat nervously in the coffee shop, my hands tucked between my knees, my foot jiggling nervously on the floor, bouncing my knee. I still had time to back out. I still had the opportunity to change my mind. But it was Thursday. I had one more day to deliver the money to Slim Pete. I had yet to get a hold of Charlie. Where the hell was he? Was it possible that Slim Pete was holding him somewhere until the debt was paid off? No, he would have taunted me with that bit of news.
Still, I didn’t know where Charlie was. I didn’t know much of anything about the entire situation other than my own worry and increasing sense of anxiety. I didn’t want to do this. I didn’t want to do this! I didn’t want to go through this farce of a marriage to a complete stranger. And a baby? A baby? Who did that?
I did.
I couldn’t think beyond getting Charlie’s debt paid off. In less than a week my life had spun out of control. I needed something to hang on to, something solid, but it was like grasping at a tornado. All I could do was hang on for dear life.
And this Brady. Brady Shaw. He was obviously rich, but I didn’t trust him. What kind of guy paid a woman to pretend to be his girlfriend, his fiancée, and the potential mother of his child? When it came right down to it, what kind of father gave his son such an ultimatum? It wasn’t like we were living in the seventeenth century for crying out loud.
And why wasn’t Brady married by now anyway? Why didn’t he step up to the plate and take over his father’s business? Why did his father need a grandchild to do it? On top of that, there were no guarantees that Brady and I would be able to produce a child in the required time frame. I didn’t want to sleep with the guy. He was a stranger. And his stupid idea of artificial insemination? No guarantees that would immediately take either.
The whole thing was stupid. Deplorable. My stomach churned in disgust. And yet here I was, staring out the window, waiting for the undeniably handsome jerk to appear. Then again, he might not. I might find myself the butt of a very cruel joke on YouTube. He and his buddy, Nick, might have been jerking my chain all along, but if they were, they were both terribly good actors.
The thought of this being nothing more than a cruel joke left me feeling nauseated. Not that I was looking forward to going through with this preposterous deal, that was also nauseating, but the alternative was even worse. Charlie… if only he knew what I was doing for him. The sacrifices I was making. No, this went way beyond sacrifice.
I glanced down at the Formica table in front of me, off-white with speckles in it. Would he appreciate what I was doing? Of course he would. But I determined that he would never find out. Not if I had anything to say about it. Oh, he would probably ask how Slim Pete had been paid off, and after I met with Brady Shaw, had the money in hand, only then would I be able to start thinking up of a plausible—okay, maybe not so plausible—explanation. I could tell him that we had legitimately gotten engaged, that he was well off and that, as a favor to me, he had agreed to pay off Charlie’s debt.
Charlie wasn’t exactly the sharpest crayon in the box, but he wasn’t stupid. He might not believe that. And even after the debt was paid off, I had to convince him that he couldn’t gamble anymore. Never. I scowled. Where was Charlie? Hiding? Probably. I didn’t blame him. I’d always been there for Charlie. Then again, Charlie had always been there for me. Just because I was the responsible one didn’t mean that my brother was useless. It was Charlie and me against the world. Charlie and me. More than anything, I wanted Charlie to reach his potential.
Still, my heartbeat accelerated and my nerves nearly frayed. I longed more than anything to bolt from this diner, to run and keep on running. To let Charlie take care of his own problems. But I couldn’t. I loved him too much. Maybe some would say I enabled him, which in some ways is probably true. But I couldn’t turn my back on him. Not now, not ever. If at all possible, I would always be there to pick him up when he fell down, to give him the support, the love, and the guidance that I could. And in turn, in doing so, our bond would continue as we grew older.
Maybe someday, Charlie would find someone worth fighting for like I was fighting for him. And I knew without an iota of hesitance that if I got into trouble, he would be there for me. No doubt about it. But what if—
“Hello.”
I startled and glanced up to find Brady sliding into the booth seat across from me. The vinyl padding squeaked under him as he settled. My heart skipped a beat. I felt sick to my stomach and excited at the same time. Nervous excitement… more like dread. This was it. This was no joke. He was a little less flippant than he had been yesterday, a little less relaxed. He wasn’t smiling, and his shoulders seemed tense, his jaw clenching and unclenching. I saw the throb of the pulse in his neck.
“You’re as nervous as I am, aren’t you?”
He eventually nodded. Then that grin tweaked the corner of his mouth, and he offered a shrug. “It’s not every day you find someone willing to marry you within twenty-four hours.” He glanced down at the manila folder he’d placed on the table. “You still want to go through with this? No hard feelings if you don’t.”
No, I didn’t want to go through with this, and I yearned to change my mind, desperately so. But I couldn’t. Shame on me, and shame on Charlie, but we needed the money. I needed the money to finish school. I slowly shook my head.
“I’ve brought the contract and a check—”
I stiffened. “But I told you I would need cash. It will take three days for a bank to clear a check, and that will be too late! I need it tomorrow!” I clamped my mouth shut, my heart pounding as a cold chill swept through my body. I couldn’t stop the shiver that raced down my spine. Brady obviously saw my reaction and frowned.
“I’ll go to the bank with you, right after the contract is signed, Dana. They’ll cash th
e check for me. Today.”
My relief was so intense, the chemical release of my hormones, the adrenaline; everything gave me an instant headache. This was crazy. Absolutely crazy, but I had to save Charlie. “Okay, thank you.”
Brady reached into the envelope and extracted a sheaf of papers. He turned them around and slid them across the table toward me. He pulled a pen from the manila folder as well.
I frowned as I stared at the stapled collection of papers, then slowly picked it up, riffling through them. My eyebrows lifted in surprise as I gazed at him. “You want me to read through all this legalese right now? It’s got to be fifteen pages or more of gobbledygook.”
Brady chuckled, “My lawyer’s very thorough. Not exactly gobbledygook, but I’ll break it down for you. You can read it ad infinitum later.”
I began to shake my head. No way was I going to sign anything before reading it, and I told him so.
He shrugged and leaned back in the booth. “Suit yourself.”
I returned my gaze to the first page. I barely managed to get through the first paragraph and let me tell you, I’m pretty darned smart. I quickly scanned the rest of the page, then flipped to the next, and the next one after that. I frowned again looking toward Brady carefully watching me.
“Is there some law that lawyers refer to that prevents them from writing out contracts in plain English?” I lifted my hand to interrupt his ensuing comment. “I’m not stupid, Brady. I’m just about done with nursing school, and let me tell you, if I can get through microbiology and pathophysiology, I can tackle this. But for the sake of time, can you summarize the contents for me please?”
“You’re a nursing student?” He seemed surprised. “That’s an admirable—”
“Mister Shaw—”
That grin again followed by the appearance of a dimple. My stomach did a somersault. Dammit!
