by Harper West
He laughed, and it was a warm, rich sound. "Can’t a man ask a woman he finds attractive to dinner without getting the third degree?”
I was so confused about where this conversation was going. It felt like he was barely listening to anything I was saying, letting it go in one ear and out the other while pushing whatever agenda it was that he had.
"If you’re looking for some kind of sugar baby, I’m not that girl, " I said.
“Good to know.”
“And I’m not some easy woman who has sex on the first date, if that’s your expectation.”
“It’s just dinner.” He slipped his hands into his pockets. "It's just one dinner. Worst case, if you still think I'm as off-putting as you clearly do now, then at least you get a free dinner out of it."
I opened my mouth to say no and tell him, in my most polite tones, to go fuck himself, but then Laura bugged her eyes out at me from the other side of the counter and mouthed ‘what are you doing? Just go’.
"Fine," I said after a few minutes of silence. "One dinner."
He grinned even brighter. "Excellent. Shall I pick you up?"
"No, you shall not," I grumbled. "I can drive myself, just tell me where to meet you."
Of course, it was one of the most expensive restaurants in a town full of expensive restaurants, but whatever, he was paying. "What time?" I asked him.
"Let's say eight," he said. "I'll see you then."
Then he was gone, without ordering anything, disappearing like he'd been some kind of fever dream in the first place.
"Did that really just happen?" I asked Laura, turning around to blink at her in confusion.
"I think it did. He was very..."
"Weird. He was weird."
“I was gonna say oddly charming,” She nodded. "He seemed legitimately interested in you, though. So that's something. Maybe it’s why he’s been showing up all the time." She bumped my shoulder, “He’s in love.”
I almost choked, “Ugh, yeah. I don’t think so.” I stared out the window to where he had disappeared down the street. “He definitely wants something.”
“Babe, we all know what he wants. The same thing every man does.”
“And I just told him he wasn’t going to get it.”
“If you say so. . .”
I laughed, then added, “"If you don't hear from me tonight, it's probably because he murdered me and used me to fertilize the garden of his mansion."
Laura giggled, shaking her head. "I'll be sure to tell the police that. Maybe it'll be fun? He seems interesting, at least. It will be a nice change of pace!"
Her optimism was nice, but I wasn't so sure. That was a man who wanted something if I ever saw one, and stuff like that hardly ever went well.
Chapter 2
Killian
There were people who thought having money fixed everything. My parents were among them. They thought that if you could throw money at a problem, then it wasn't really a problem, and if you had enough money, anything that might turn into a problem would just...go away.
For the most part, they were right. There were few things that couldn't be fixed with a well-placed bribe or donation to the right fund and being able to afford to do whatever you wanted definitely had its perks.
There were some times when it was clear something was missing.
There was a lot to be said for companionship and not being alone, and it was harder to use money to solve that problem.
Well. Kind of.
After all, there were plenty of women you could pay for all kinds of favors and nightly exploits, but that wasn't the same.
My parents had an arranged marriage. It was one of those archaic traditions that still existed with rich people. Families wanted to keep their money and their good genes in the right circles, so daughters would be paraded in front of sons and vice versa, so they could get a good look at each other and see what kind of matches could be made.
My mother was a Bennet of the Hampton Bennets, and my father was an Abernathy of the Westchester Abernathys. A good match, strong genes, good portfolios. Both definitely boring people.
They wanted me to have something similar, and I wanted the exact opposite. If I was going to be married, then I was going to find my wife myself. Not because I was desperate for love or anything like that. No, I could do without it, honestly.
I needed something, a few things, actually, and I’d run the numbers. The fastest way for me to get what I wanted was to get married.
For some reason, I was anxious to explain this to the girl from the coffee shop. She needed the money, obviously, which made her an ideal candidate, but there was something else about her that made me interested. She had a temper, clearly, held in check because we'd been at her workplace. I was fully expecting her to tell me off when we were at dinner and she wasn't obligated to be polite.
There was a fire to her, a determination in her eyes, and I knew she'd been an interesting challenge. I loved interesting challenges. Puzzles and things you really had to wrap your head around or work hard to understand.
If she said yes to my proposal, it would most definitely not be boring.
I arrived at Crest a little before the time we'd agreed to meet. The owner knew me, of course, and the hostess smiled and led me to a table in the center of the dining room.
I flashed her a grin and pressed a twenty into her hand. "Maybe something a bit more private?" I asked. "My date and I have something very important to discuss tonight."
"Oh," she said. "Of course, sir. Right this way."
She led me to a table a bit further back. "How about this?"
I nodded. "Perfect."
Excitement coursed through me while I waited. There was so much potential for this to be amazing, and I wanted her to say yes.
Right at eight, the hostess led her over to my table with a smile. She pulled out the chair for her and handed her a menu before telling us both to enjoy our meals.
I looked across the table and was once again pleased with what I saw. Obviously, this girl didn’t come from money. She looked like the type who was one second away from lecturing me about the value of a hard day’s work or something equally middle class.
"Have you ever been here before?" I asked her when she was seated, and she shot me a look.
"Oh, sure," she said. "I come here all the time. Cocktails with the girls, you know. Dinner with all of my many suitors. They know me by name. I always get the veal."
I laughed, even though she was being rude. There was just something about her that delighted me. And it didn't hurt that she was beautiful.
She was wearing a black cocktail dress that did amazing things for her figure, drawing the eye to the curves of her hips and showing off a good amount of cleavage. Her hair was down and fell around her shoulders is auburn curls, and she had on just enough makeup to bring out the fullness of her lips and her bright green eyes.
She wasn't overdressed or over done, and it was a good look on her.
"Well," I said. "The veal is very good. I also recommend the swordfish if you're that kind of person."
"A swordfish kind of person?" she asked, frowning.
I nodded. "Some people like it more than others. The scallops are good, too."
She scanned the menu, seeming to relax when there weren't any prices on it. Maybe if she couldn't tell how expensive things were, she wouldn't worry about it. Regardless, no matter how the night turned out, I was going to pay for dinner. I owed her that much for her coming to hear me out.
"I could go for the prime rib," she said. "I haven't had that in a long time."
"It's very good," I told her. "The bearnaise sauce is excellent."
"Good to know." She kept her eyes on the menu for the most part, but I could see her darting little glances my way every now and then. She was clearly intrigued, or at least curious, and that was going to work in my favor.
"I don't usually like to discuss business before we've even ordered, but I think there are some things we should get out of t
he way first," I said.
"Like what?" she asked, and the suspicion was back in full force.
"Like our names, for instance?"
Her cheeks flushed pink and she wrinkled her nose. "Okay, fair enough."
I grinned at her. "I'm Killian Abernathy." I watched her face to see if there was any recognition when I said it. There wasn't. Good.
"Ash," she said simply. When I just kept looking at her, she rolled her eyes. "Ashlyn Everett," she said. "If it pleases you, my lord." That last bit was said in an over the top British accent, and she mimed dipping a curtsy from her chair, and I couldn't help but laugh.
"It's a pleasure to meet you, Ashlyn Everett. See, that wasn't so hard, was it?"
"It was hard enough. I don't trust you."
I shrugged a shoulder. "Fair enough. I'm a mysterious man with too much money, who's lured you to a restaurant for dinner. I'd be on my guard, too."
"Exactly. Why did you?" she asked, clearly trying to get straight to the point.
“As I said, I saw a woman that intrigued me, and I asked her to her dinner.”
She rested her chin onto her palm, “And . . .”
“And what?”
“Look, I’m already here and the food smells way too good to leave now. So, since I promise not to run off, you can just get to the point. I know there’s something else to it.”
I remember the moment I first saw her. I’d slipped into the nearest café to free myself from the rain pouring down, and there she was. Behind the counter, beautiful and fiery with a smile on her face but a sadness in her eyes. Like me, she’d known pain. Known disappointment. I had every intention of walking away since I was far too busy with my own problems; but when I’d overheard her conversation with her coworker, and her dire situation. That’s when the idea came to me.
“Fair enough. But my first point stands. I am attracted to you, which is the first reason I wanted you to come tonight.”
“Okay,” She lifted her water flute and stared into it, “And the second reason?”
I intended to take this in slow steps because I didn’t want to frighten her off, so but she was making that plan exceedingly hard to abide by. I relaxed into my seat, hoping to make myself seem less intense.
It didn’t always work.
“I had a proposition of sorts I wanted to discuss with you.”
“Aha!” She smiled like the cat who’d caught the canary, “And what does this proposition involve?”
"I really don't discuss business on an empty stomach," I said. "I find it's easier to be...reasonable when I've got some good food in me. And a glass of wine or two."
She rolled her eyes, not even bothering to hide it. This was what I wanted. Ash wasn't timid, and she wasn't swayed by how much money I had. Not yet, anyway. She wasn't treating me any different from how she would treat some other stranger who was bothering her, even though I could clearly make it worth her while.
"You're stalling," she accused.
"No, I'm hungry."
It was amusing to make her sit through the song and dance of waiting for the waitress to come over and take our orders. I let Ash go first and chose a wine that would pair well with her prime rib and my fish, enjoying the waves of irritation I could feel coming off of her.
It was a good test. Either she'd sit through it because she wanted to hear what I had to say badly enough, or she'd leave, and that would tell me all I needed to know.
She could grind her teeth and glare at me as much as she wanted, but as long as she stayed, then I'd be happy.
"So," I said once the waitress had trotted off with our menus to put our orders in. "Tell me about yourself."
"Are you kidding?" Ash demanded. "We're making small talk now?"
I shrugged a shoulder like I couldn't care less. "I don't see why not. My proposal is going to mean we have to spend a good amount of time together, so we may as well start getting to know each other now, don't you think?" I smiled at her, enjoying the way her irritation lit up her face and made her eyes burn.
She was a pistol, that was for sure, and those were exactly the kind of women I preferred. Meek, shy women just didn't do it for me. I needed a challenge, and I needed to win.
When it became clear I wasn't kidding, Ash sighed and shook her head. "Fine. What do you want to know?"
"Anything, really. You're in school?"
"Yeah. Grad school. I'm getting an MFA in Art."
I nodded, surprised to hear that. It wasn't a very practical degree, and most people didn't bother pursuing it unless they had a passion for it. She didn't really strike me as the artsy type, so that was interesting. "Impressive. And a bit foolish, considering your money problems."
“Money problems?”
Her nostrils flared and I held up my hands in a gesture of peace. "Just an observation, not a judgement call," I said quickly. "You tend to speak openly when you think no one is noticing. I overheard you at the shop on a few occasions.”
“Wow, I’ll add eavesdropping to your amazing qualities.”
She looked ready to about murder me but I continued on, “Most people would have chosen to drop out and save themselves the trouble."
"Well, I'm not most people. This matters to me. It's one of the first things I've ever done just because I want to do it, and I'm going to finish the program. I'm so close."
There was a desperation in her voice, and I could only imagine how frustrating it had to be to get close to something and then be in danger of losing it because things were slipping out of your grasp.
I'd never had money problems in my whole life, of course, but I'd had to give up on my fair share of dreams for other reasons. I didn't think she'd be too pleased about me trying to sympathize with her about it, so I kept that to myself.
"Does your family live in the area?" I asked.
She narrowed her eyes at me. "Why do you want to know?"
"Remember that thing I just said a second ago about getting to know each other."
"Yeah, but what does my family have to do with it? I have people close by who would notice if I went missing," she said.
I couldn't help but laugh. She was definitely on her guard, and I couldn't blame her for that. She didn't know me. I could be anyone wanting to do anything, and I wasn't exactly making things easy for her, either.
"Alright," I replied. "Fair enough. For what it's worth, I don't want to make you go missing. I'm not a serial killer or anything."
"So you say."
Clearly, she wasn't going to trust me until we got down to the meat of why she was here. Luckily, the service was quick, and we had our wine and food soon after.
Ash poured sauce over her prime rib and potatoes, then looked at me expectantly. I could have insisted she let me eat first, but it would probably be better to just get to the point.
"Alright," I said again, cutting into my fish with my fork. "Here is the proposition. You need money, yes? Pretty badly from what I overheard at the coffee shop. It probably won't surprise you to hear that I have plenty of money. Enough to make all your issues go away and then some."
She just kept looking at me, waiting for me to get to the rest, I was sure.
"As for what I need, well. It's a little bit complicated."
"Spit it out, will you?" she snapped.
"I need a wife."
She blinked at me, and I took the moment to eat my bite of fish. Delicious. Light and flaky with a wonderful mango salsa. Could have done with a touch more salt, maybe.
"A wife," Ash finally said. "You want me to find you a wife? I mean, no offense, but if you can't get a woman to marry you looking like you do and with your money, then I don't know how you think I can help you."
I laughed, surprised by the compliment. "No offense taken. I don't want to date. Dating is tedious, and it makes things too complicated. No, what I need is an . . . arrangement. Someone who understands why I need a wife and needs something from me, too. To keep things even."
Confusion flashed over her face for
a second, and then she opened her mouth, gaping at me. "You have got to be kidding me. You want me to be... what the hell is wrong with you?"
"Plenty, to hear my mother tell it," I said with a shrug. "It wouldn't be until death do us part or anything like that. One year. That's all I'm asking for. One year as my wife, enough to let me get what I need, and then we'll get divorced like every other married couple these days and go our separate ways. You'll have more money than you know what to do with, and I'll be satisfied in my own way."
"What do you need a wife for a year for?" she asked, and I sighed internally. I'd been hoping I wouldn't have to get into this, but I supposed I was asking for a lot with not very much explanation. I ate another bite of fish and then drummed my fingers on the table, thinking of how best to explain this.
"Are your parents still married?" I asked her.
She nodded. "Yeah. Almost thirty years now."
"Admirable. My parents were divorced before I was even born. They couldn't stand each other. They got married for money reasons, which is why most people I know get married. My mom got custody, even though she didn't really want it, but it was more about keeping something away from my father. Me being the something, of course. She tried to sue for child support but didn't win that battle. Instead my dad put money away into an account for me that was supposed to be for my future. I thought that meant when I turned twenty-one or twenty-five, the way most trust funds work, you know? But apparently it's an 'anniversary gift'." I made the air quotes with my fingers.
Understanding dawned on Ash's face. "Oh. So you need to be married for a year so you can get the money," she said.
"Exactly. It's my money, and I shouldn't have to jump through some arbitrary hoop to get it."
"It's not exactly arbitrary though, is it?" Ash said. "I mean, he set it aside for you and your future spouse. That was nice of him."
"He set it aside so my mom couldn't touch it," I corrected her. "And because even though she cheated on him and he never got married again, he kept believing in love until the day he died."
"And he wanted that for you, too, obviously."
I rolled my eyes because she didn't get it. We weren't the kind of people who believed in that sort of thing. Or at least I wasn't. I'd been around too many of my parents' screaming fights to have any thoughts about finding true love. I just wanted the money that was mine.
