CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
They pulled up at the address Darshelle had given them yesterday. She’d said she’d meet them here after church—Seagram wanted to make sure they all had time for church first.
Morgan choked on her gum, which she’d swallowed involuntarily when she saw the house. “Are you sure this is the right place?” It had to be a mistake. She’d passed this house hundreds of times going and coming from class, and she thought maybe a wealthy retired couple lived in it, with its manicured gardens and the perfection of its colonial-style architecture. The columns! Were they marble?
“This is the address.” Josh squinted at the numbers on the front of the house. “It’s pretty nice.”
“Pretty nice! It’s a freaking palace!” Morgan’s heart whipped into a frenzy of palpitations. “It’s the kind of place they feature on TV shows with titles like Lives of the Ridiculously Rich.”
“It’s not that nice. Come on.” Josh shut off the engine. “That Darshelle person is going to be here soon.” He was still in his suit and tie from church, and he looked like an executive. Morgan had always had a thing for a guy in a business suit. It was making Morgan’s mind go places it shouldn’t. She was going to have to say something to him—now.
“Just a second—before we go in. I just need to put something out there.” How to say this and not reveal how much he was affecting her, she didn’t know. But it had to be said. “We are going to have to put some boundaries up.”
“Uh, Morgan. We said we’re not moving in together. In fact, we might not even have to see each other again after today.”
Have to? She’d thought of it more as a get to see each other. That took some of the wind out of her sails, but she pressed on. “I mean, it just seems like every time we’re meeting people, someone insists on seeing us make physical contact.” Her voice trailed off, and she knew she was sounding completely stupid.
Especially when Josh got a wicked grin. “Oh, I see. My animal magnetism is getting to you.”
She didn’t have time to lie. “Frankly, yes. And if you’re serious about this being a real marriage, we need to have that conversation, but until then, we are nothing but neighbors.”
Josh frowned, and then it hit Morgan that she’d just opened the door to a serious conversation about their relationship. Which they did not have.
Stupid. She was completely stupid.
Luckily, Josh didn’t seem hung up on that. “Fine. You’re right. We need to probably at least scale back.”
“Exactly.” She started to calm down a little. She laughed, shaking her head. “Can you believe how many people out there think they have the right to dictate that we kiss each other? That’s two in a twenty-four hour period. First Tory, and then Seagram’s crew. Where do people get off?”
“Right?” Josh gave his own eye roll, and tension was broken.
Good. They could move forward, even if the film crew showed up.
Josh came around and opened her door. “We can just hold hands as we go through the house. That ought to be enough.” He took her by the hand. This was not helping. Stupid shimmers of ecstasy that hit her every time they touched! Would she never just become immune to them?
A black sedan pulled up behind them, and out came Darshelle. It looked like she’d been at church as well this morning, as she wore a suit and pumps. Seagram’s people did church, it would seem. That was cool. Morgan did church. So did Josh—she’d seen him there at her local congregation most Sundays since they, uh, got married.
The phrase still made her wacko.
“Hello, Mr. and Mrs. Hyatt.”
“This has to be a mistake. This place can’t be right.” Morgan walked toward the lady, and they shook hands.
Darshelle pulled out a key from a large envelope. “No mistake. This will be your key. It’s for both of you. Don’t make a copy.” She handed it to Josh, who slid it onto his key-ring right away. He’d give it back later, right? For now, it seemed like he was playing along. “You can use the keypad to get in through the garage, if you need to. But I suspect you newlyweds will spend most of your time together. Am I right?” She winked.
The PR lady led them around the manicured grass via a cobblestone path. Every autumn flower imaginable bloomed in the flowerbeds. The canopy of tree branches made a shady bower for their entry into the spacious mansion that the massive wrought iron door revealed when it glided open.
“It’s nice.” Josh seemed less overawed than Morgan.
Was he kidding? This place was a glimpse into the eternities—if she made it to heaven in the afterlife, after living such a life of deception. It had flagstone floors, crown molding, ceiling medallions around the bases of the several crystal chandeliers. She didn’t even dare look in the kitchen.
“I bet it costs a fortune to heat and cool the place. Look how high the ceilings are.” Josh whispered this to Morgan, but apparently, Darshelle overheard.
“Your utilities will be covered. Don’t worry about that. I’ll be right back.” Darshelle left them and went back outside to take a phone call.
Morgan turned to Josh, fear spewing from her. “This is too much.”
“It’s a lot.” They walked through the grand arches into the living area of the house.
“It’s not even in the same universe with Estrella Court.”
“Thank heaven.” Josh rolled his eyes. “Or Sigmund Seagram.”
“We can’t do it.” But even as she said it, her soul stretched out to the baby grand piano that sat idle in the parlor, begging her to come play it. And her heart ached to cook—just once—on that six-burner gas stove. It was so pretty, all stainless steel and shiny. “I’ve never dreamed anywhere this nice, let alone lived in a place like this.”
Josh plunked onto a barstool and slid one beside him at the quartz countertop for Morgan to sit beside him. “Don’t get too starry-eyed about it. Pretty homes don’t always house pretty people. It’s the relationships that make the happiness, not the decorations.”
Morgan traced a fingertip over the smooth rock surface. It was a gray-green with flecks of white and a streak of dark gray. “I think I could be sweet and kind to the world’s vilest person if I was surrounded by this much beauty all the time.”
“Maybe, but who’s going to weed that flowerbed?”
“The gardener. Mr. Seagram said there would be one.”
Josh clapped. “That changes everything. Get your stuff, babe. We’re moving in!”
“Glad to hear it!” Darshelle’s voice carried across the cavernous space. Her heels clicked as she entered the kitchen and opened the refrigerator, showing it to be full. “The pantry is stocked, too. I can’t imagine what you have to worry about.”
“This—it all just seems like too much,” Morgan said, almost gasping.
“It is too much. I told Siggy that a hundred times, but will he listen?” Darshelle frowned. “Look. He’s generous to a fault. Don’t hurt his feelings, or I’ll have to hurt you.” She made a fist, and Morgan winced inwardly, knowing how inevitable that was—for when she and Josh annulled their union, Seagram would no doubt be upset.
“You’re really loyal to him,” Josh said.
“I owe him everything.”
Unless they declined everything he offered, Morgan would owe him everything, too. And she’d likely give nothing in return. Oh, this was not good. But what choice did she have at this point, when they were already in so deep she couldn’t see the surface anymore? Walk away? Get in trouble? Go to jail for fraud? Never finish her degree, and have Tory keep floundering in life without schooling, dating different members of a community theater cast?
Crazy as it was, the responsible thing to do was go through with the deception. For now.
“Do you like the house?” Darshelle offered them drinks from the fridge, but they refused. “Did you go upstairs? I’ll show you.”
Five bedrooms, three bathrooms, and a master suite. The master looked like a designer had spent tens of thousands of dollars making
it over just for Morgan’s taste—if she’d even known what her taste was before this. But now she knew: it was exactly this room in every way. White linens and curtains, roses in a silver vase on the nightstand, natural light coming through the French doors that led to the balcony off the back of the room, and a sitting area. No wonder Seagram looked like he was holding his nose at Josh’s apartment. The contrast was like going from a lean-to at the county landfill to the governor’s mansion.
“Mr. Seagram sends this with his compliments.” Darshelle produced a paper, handing it to Josh.
“There’s a housekeeper, too?” Josh turned to Morgan. “Babe, you wouldn’t have to do the cleaning.”
“You mean you wouldn’t have to do the cleaning.”
“Neither of you has to clean. Not even dishes, if you don’t want to.” Darshelle led them back downstairs. “That card is Svetlana’s number and schedule. Mr. Seagram wants to make your lives as simple as possible so you can focus on your studies.” She showed them a large room with a fireplace and a wall of bookshelves stacked with books floor to ceiling. “He didn’t have a TV installed during the remodel, but newlyweds don’t watch television.”
Josh put an arm around Morgan, and those infernal tingles hit again. She would have gone running away, but she knew they had to look affectionate.
Morgan staggered under the weight of the promise this life held. It was too good to be true. Far, far too good to be true. And if only it could be, if only she and Josh weren’t horrendous frauds, she’d grab it and hug this life to herself so tightly they’d have to pry it from her cold, dead fingers to get it away.
“This is all unbelievably generous.” Josh slid his arm down and took Morgan’s hand. They stood in the soaring front entryway. “I can speak for Morgan, that we appreciate the offer more than we can say.”
She nodded. Lots more than she could say.
“But—”
“No buts.” Darshelle held up a hand. “Mr. Seagram isn’t going to brook any arguments. I was instructed firmly.”
Josh’s hand stiffened in Morgan’s. “I wish we could. It’s just too much.”
“I told you from the get-go. It is too much. Nobody’s arguing that.”
“Nevertheless, we have been too blessed by him already.”
Morgan at last found her voice. “Couldn’t he pick a runner-up couple in his newlywed search and give them this gift? He could spread out the generosity and bless more lives. The scholarship is already far more than we can hope to repay.”
“Nobody wants repayment. And no. Mr. Seagram has made up his mind, and he’s not one to back down. He’s used to getting his way.”
Morgan had seen that, even in their brief interactions. But Morgan didn’t intend to be bullied into living with a man—because, frankly, that’s what this situation would be. Her morals were on the line here. She was a good girl, and she intended to stay that way.
But you’re married to him, a little voice at the back of her mind whispered. How immoral is it for a woman to live with her husband? It’s not.
She shushed that voice.
“Our minds are made up.” Josh fished his key-ring out of his pocket. He let go of Morgan’s hand to unthread the key. Morgan’s fingers felt the absence of his.
“Just a minute.” Darshelle sent a text, and then shook her head. “I’m sorry. Mr. Seagram was afraid you’d be too modest to accept, so he made me build in some contingencies.”
Morgan narrowed her eyes at this, and she felt Josh’s spine stiffen at the word.
“I just sent the text to the owner of your apartment complex, Estrella Court. Yesterday Mr. Seagram offered to purchase it from the owner for twice its value.”
No. “Why would he do a thing like that?” Morgan almost spluttered this. Fear washed through her as she realized something very bad was about to happen.
“Don’t worry. The owner didn’t accept it—he needs it for an investment.”
Whatever. This couldn’t make any difference to Morgan and Josh’s decision.
“However, he did agree to take Seagram on as a partner, and beginning today, to raise rents. To quadruple them monthly—at first. And then to raise them by tenfold soon thereafter.”
“Raise rents! By that immoral amount? Why would he do that? He’d lose all his tenants.” Josh stepped a little in front of Morgan, as if shielding her from this arrow, but Morgan knew everyone in Estrella Court was on a month-to-month contract and at the mercy of a sudden rent change. They were the working poor, the elderly on fixed incomes, the otherwise homeless. There was nothing that could shield her, or them, from that danger.
“Maybe. But Mr. Seagram offered to pay the monthly installment for any unfilled apartment until things had worked out to his satisfaction. And at that point, he offered the landlord a lump sum.”
Morgan’s mouth went dry. Through clenched teeth she asked the burning question. “What exactly are the terms of Mr. Seagram’s satisfaction?”
“I think you know, Mrs. Hyatt.” Darshelle nodded slowly. “So, if you’d like for all your Estrella Court neighbors to have a nice, safe place to live over the winter—and not the freeway underpass—I’d say the two of you should give the offer some serious thought.”
That was blackmail!
“Chuh.” Josh grabbed Morgan’s hand. “There aren’t any freeways running through Starry Point.”
“Think how even more unsheltered that will make all those low-rent tenants.” Darshelle lifted a challenging eyebrow. “Look, I know. It’s drastic. It’s cruel.”
“It’s blackmail.” Morgan pinged with the bizarreness of it all.
“It’s Mr. Seagram. Like I said, when he gets an idea in his mind, he’s going to stop at nothing to get his way, so I advise you, young people, to take the gift graciously. I’ll have a moving truck arranged to meet you at Estrella Court for your clothing and personal items tomorrow afternoon when Josh gets done with his work at the water treatment plant.” She pulled a tight smile, gave a sorry bow, and left, the big iron door making a clanging thud behind her.
Morgan staggered, and she had to grab onto Josh for support. “It’s so mean! How can he be so nice and so mean at the same time?”
Josh’s mouth formed a flat line. His face was red, but there was a white area around his lips. “I’ve been around men like this all my life. If I knew how to deal with them, neither of us would be in this situation right now.”
So even Josh couldn’t fix this. Morgan felt a tear spring to her eye. She did want to live here—so much! More than anywhere she’d ever seen in her life. Circumstance kept throwing Josh and Morgan together, and every time she was with him, he did something funny or charming or kind. How could she help liking him? More and more, she found herself wanting to be with Josh Hyatt.
But not this way.
It was all wrong. All her dreams had come true, but in a warped, fractured fairy tale version. It was like looking at a gorgeous banquet, spread all across a long table, with succulent vegetables and meats and fruits and sparkling drinks on pristine china, and then going up to partake and finding it was all just plastic.
“Don’t cry. Morgan, don’t.” Josh looked anguished. He lifted a hand and brushed away the tear rolling down her cheek. He gathered her in his arms and pressed her head to his chest. She didn’t resist. “It’s going to be okay. We’ll think of something.”
His touch did soothe her, but it didn’t change facts. “If I left, Tory’s salary at the community theater wouldn’t pay the rent, even at Estrella Court. Now that I quit my job at Veg-Out, I don’t know how I expected us to pay it anyway.” She’d been so shortsighted! It wasn’t like she could touch the scholarship money from Seagram anyway. “I’m such an idiot.”
Josh took her hand and sat down on the staircase, pulling Morgan down next to him.
Distraught, Morgan’s mind reeled under another blow. “And if Seagram manages to force a rent hike, then where will Tory and I be? It was the only place in Starry Point we could afford.
Seriously. And with my old truck, it’s not like we could move up to Astoria and rent some dive there and commute. The gas cost would kill us if the truck even survived it.”
There wasn’t an answer.
“I have an answer.” Josh started nodding slowly. “What if you and Tory move here? I’ll stay at Estrella Court. I can afford the rent, and then the two of you get this posh place, rent free, and no one is the wiser. I’ll just show up when the film crew does. You can text me.”
“But it won’t look like a man lives here.”
“It will. I’ll leave some clothes, shoes, an old electric razor…”
It might work. “You’d do that?”
“Sure. I mean, Estrella Court is a hole, but I don’t mind it.”
Josh was unbelievably nice. Morgan’s heart stretched out toward him in a little gold thread. “I can’t believe you’d trade all this for Estrella Court.”
“I’ve lived in nice places. They don’t faze me.”
Huh. Maybe that was true. His dad was Bronco Hyatt of Hyatt Holdings, after all.
For the first time, Morgan started looking around with a little less fear. The soft carpet on the stairs felt like real wool. She pressed it between her fingers. So soft.
“So it’s settled?” Josh put an arm around Morgan’s shoulders in big-brother fashion. “You and Tory can relocate. I’ll even help you load boxes in the U-Haul.”
“Now that’s a sacrifice.” She leaned her head on his shoulder. It fit nicely there. He smelled like some kind of spiced cologne. Morgan closed her eyes and inhaled, savoring it.
Suddenly, though, Josh’s arm dropped. “Uh—”
“What?”
“Did Darshelle say Seagram was going to be a business partner with the Estrella Court landlord?”
“Yeah. Why?”
“So he will have records of who the tenants are.”
Morgan’s heart dropped. “He’ll know you’re there. Paying rent.”
Josh leaned back and rested his head on the stairs. Morgan twisted to see the pained look on his face. “Unless you find me your buddy who can do fake IDs for illegal immigrants, I’m going to have to stay on the rental agreement and the utilities for my apartment.”
Legally Wedded (Legally in Love Book 3) Page 14
