A Marriage of Anything but Convenience

by Victorine E. Lieske

  “Probably. If they haven’t filled the position yet. I’ll call Chelsea and see.” She chewed the inside of her cheek. Why did the thought of working for Chelsea again give her heartburn? Wasn’t that what she wanted?

  “When do you think you’ll leave?”

  His words stabbed at her heart. He wanted her gone. Of course. She was dead weight now that he didn’t have to stay married to her anymore. She tried not to let his words hurt her. “I’ll see if I can get a flight tomorrow.”

  He slowly nodded and rocked back on his heels. Then his head snapped up. “Hey, you can probably afford a better place in New York, now that you’ll get half my assets.”

  She hadn’t thought about that. “Half your money?”

  “Right.” He motioned to her. “I’m sure that’s what your father meant by us getting married anyway. So, you’ll be taken care of.”

  A strange feeling snaked through her. “No, I don’t want to take half your assets. That’s totally not fair. We were only married for a week.”

  “Right, but…your dad wanted—”

  “My father released me from any obligation. I didn’t do this for the money. I want to make that perfectly clear to you. I don’t want your money.” She realized she was being loud, and lowered her voice. “This was never about the money.”

  “I know.” He exhaled and scratched his chin. “It’s just that your father wants—”

  “Derek,” she said, interrupting him again. “Listen. I don’t want your money. I don’t want my father’s money. I want to make it on my own. And if I have to live in a one-bedroom apartment in the dumpiest part of town, I’ll do it.” She set her jaw. “Because that’s what I want.”

  “Wasn’t your father paying your rent when you lived in New York?”

  “Yes, until he withheld it so I would cave and marry you. Don’t you see? If I accept your money, or his money, I’ll never really be free, will I? I’ll be a puppet. I don’t want that anymore.”

  “Is that what you think? That I’d only pay you if you did what I wanted?”

  She shook her head. “No, not really. But don’t you see how it could become that? So easily.” She stood and stepped toward him. “I’ll be okay. Let me do this on my own. All right?”

  He dropped his gaze and nodded. “Okay. If that’s what you want.”

  “Yes,” she said. “That’s what I want.”

  She’d said the words with conviction, but an unease spread through her as she left the kitchen. She was going back to New York, to make it on her own. Why didn’t that bring her the happiness she thought she’d have?

  Chapter 28

  Derek paced the kitchen floor as Nara packed her clothes in the bedroom upstairs. She was leaving, and there wasn’t anything he could do about it. Brielle walked in and opened the cupboard, rummaging. “Hey,” she said as she tossed him a cursory glance.

  “Hey,” he said back.

  Brielle apparently found the coffee mug she was looking for because she pulled out a black one with gold lettering on it. He didn’t have a black mug. She must have brought it with her.

  She placed it under the Keurig machine and grabbed a K-cup. When she looked at him again, she froze. “What’s up with you? You look like a zombie.”

  That fit. He ran a hand through his hair and exhaled. “Nara’s leaving.”

  “Like, on a trip?”

  Guilt slithered through him. He was going to have to confess to Brielle. That stunk. “No. Like, leaving. For good.”

  Her eyes widened and she staggered before grabbing onto the counter. “Wait, what? Leaving you? As in, you’re broken up?”

  He sighed and plopped down on a kitchen stool. “We never were together,” he mumbled, his chest feeling hollow.

  Brielle’s eyebrows pulled together. “You never were together? What does that even mean? Are you saying you lied about getting married?”

  The way she was looking at him made him feel like scum. He shook his head. “No. We really got married.”

  “Then tell me what’s going on.” She shoved in the K-cup and pressed the button to start her coffee.

  Derek would rather eat rat poison, but he already started to confess. He couldn’t stop now. “We got married, but it wasn’t real. It was a fake marriage to appease her father.”

  “A fake marriage?”

  “Or, rather, a marriage of convenience.” Nara’s words yesterday echoed in his head. A marriage of inconvenience.

  “Why would you get married for one week? That doesn’t make any sense.”

  “It was supposed to be two years, so Mr. Claymore could pass the company on to me, and therefore Nara and I could both benefit.”

  “But?”

  “But he released us from the obligation, so Nara is leaving. We’ll be filing for divorce.” He felt like a truck had hit him, went into reverse, ran him over again, and then moved forward to get him once more.

  Brielle’s expression was unreadable. “So, you’re telling me, the woman you’ve been in love with all your life married you to please her father? And now that’s all over and she’s leaving?”

  He nodded, unable to say anything else.

  “And you’re just letting her go?” Brielle’s voice rose in pitch.

  “Be quiet,” he said, glancing toward the staircase. What if Nara heard her?

  Brielle took a step toward him, then slapped the back of his head.

  “Ouch. What did you do that for?”

  “You deserved it.”

  He gave Brielle a flat look. “Nara wants to go back to New York. What kind of a jerk would I be if I tried to convince her to stay?”

  “Does she know you’re in love with her?”

  “No.”

  “Wait,” Brielle held up her hand. “Didn’t I tell her you’ve been in love with her forever?”

  Derek moaned and put his head in his hands. “I told her that was a joke.”

  “You what?” Brielle hissed. “So, she doesn’t even know you’re totally madly in love with her? Why hasn’t that come up? What were you doing on your honeymoon anyway?”

  He shrugged. “It’s a marriage of convenience. We didn’t do anything like that.”

  “But I saw you making out with her.”

  “Yeah, that was just for show. To make you think we were in a real marriage.”

  Brielle slapped the back of his head again. He hopped off the stool and raised his hand like he was going to do it back to her. She stepped back. “You’re an idiot. A girl doesn’t make out with a guy like that if she’s just pretending. It would have been a peck. She likes you.”

  “Then why is she upstairs packing to go to New York?”

  Brielle raised one eyebrow. “Want me to go ask?”

  “No!” He sat back down. “Don’t.”

  Her mug was now full of coffee, and she picked it up. “Fine. Suit yourself. Let the woman you love leave you. What do I care?”

  “You don’t understand.”

  Footsteps on the stairs silenced them both. Derek waited until Nara appeared before them, her jacket on and dragging two suitcases. Her gaze met Derek’s for a brief moment before she looked at Brielle. She timidly bit her lower lip. “Did Derek tell you I’m going to New York?”

  Brielle rushed to Nara, embracing her. “Yes. He told me everything. I’m glad I got to see you again before you left.”

  “Me, too. You keep up the good grades in school, okay?”

  Brielle nodded.

  “And let me know how things are going with Levi.”

  Shock flitted onto Brielle’s face. “How did you know I got back together with him?”

  Nara patted Brielle’s cheek. “It was obvious. You still love him.”

  “Amazing how obvious some things are. But others aren’t.” She tossed a meaningful look at Derek.

  He shot her back a look that told her to shut up.

  “What do you mean?” Nara asked.

  “Nothing. Have a safe flight.” Brielle hugged her again and th
en stepped back.

  Derek took her luggage. “I’ll drive you to the airport.”

  Nara glanced to the window, cringing. “I actually called a cab. They’ll be here in a second.”

  “Why did you do that?” Was she that anxious to get away from him? He had to admit, that hurt.

  “I didn’t want to put you out. I’ve already put you out enough. This whole thing has been…” She let her voice trail off and she looked to the floor. “I’m sorry. That’s all I can say. I’m sorry my dad insisted on this. I’m sure it’s been uncomfortable for you.”

  Only the last twelve hours. But he didn’t say that. He couldn’t admit that he wanted her to say. Needed her to stay. It was selfish of him. He knew her dream wasn’t here, in L.A. How could he be selfish and try to get her to give up on what she loves? In the end, what came out of his mouth was, “I could have driven you.”

  The cab pulled up to the house. Nara shook her head. “It’s okay. Really.”

  He tightened his grip on her suitcases. “At least let me take these out.”

  Nara nodded. “Thanks.”

  Derek wheeled the suitcases out the door and to the back of the cab. The driver came around and opened the trunk. “I can take those.”

  He turned around to face Nara, his heart in his throat. What was he to say to her? What could he say that would not make him crumble? He knew this marriage wouldn’t last, but if he had known Richard was going to release Nara from her obligation after only one week, he may have made different choices. He opened his mouth to speak, but no words came out.

  Nara quickly put her finger on his lips. “Shh. Don’t say it. I don’t think we should say good-bye, Mr. Emperor. I think we should say, see you later.”

  His lips thrummed with the electricity from her touch. He reached up and took hold of her finger, removing it. He wanted to agree with her. Beg her to tell him when she would see him next. But he knew it wouldn’t be anytime soon. Still, he didn’t want to argue with her.

  He stared into her warm gaze until time slowed. This was it. She was really leaving. He slowly let go of her finger. “See you later,” he said.

  She nodded and blinked a couple of times. “Yeah. See you later.” And then she hopped into the cab and shut the door.

  Derek stood there and watched as the cab drove down the driveway and turned the corner, carrying with it his heart.

  Chapter 29

  A car honked as Nara dashed across the intersection, trying to catch the last second of the flashing walk sign. “Settle down,” she called as she sprinted toward the building that housed AVA Designs. The coffee in her hand couldn’t be anything but piping hot when she got there, or Chelsea would have a fit.

  Not for the first time since she’d gotten her job back a month ago her mind flashed to how things had been before. With Derek. His face formed in her mind and she struggled to keep her composure.

  She missed him with a fierceness she never thought possible. Her? And Emperor Derek? It seemed so unlikely. And yet, there was a hole inside her that opened up the day she got into the cab and left. A hole only he could fill.

  It made her days lonely and her nights almost unbearable. In such a short amount of time he had become someone she could confide in. Rely on. He’d become so much more than she had ever imagined he would.

  And she missed his kisses. His touch. His masculinity. Everything about him. She looked down at the cheap ring she still hadn’t had the courage to take off. She’d just slid it onto her right hand. It was stupid and sentimental, and yet she couldn’t get rid of it.

  She pushed aside thoughts of Derek as she entered her building. Now was not the time. She had to pull herself together. She rushed to the elevator. The began to slide shut. “Hold the doors!” she yelled.

  Either the person didn’t hear her, or purposely pushed the door closed button, because they clamped shut one second before she got there. She grunted and pressed the call button about a million times. “You suck,” she said under her breath.

  Ugh. The last month had been a time-warp back to her old life. Except she was in a smaller, crappier apartment. She was still just getting coffee for other people living their dreams. On the plus side, Chelsea had liked her last sketches. She’d told her to make a couple of mockups. Too bad her sewing machine was still in L.A. at Derek’s house.

  And now she was thinking of Derek again. She mentally smacked herself. Pull it together.

  Her phone chimed the notification that she’d gotten an email. Since she was stuck there until the next elevator, she pulled out her phone to see what it was.

  The words Poiz Design Award made her breath catch. It wasn’t time to announce the winner yet, was it? No, it couldn’t be. It was too soon. But still, maybe it was telling her she’d made it into the next round. Or, not.

  Her pulse raced as she touched the screen.

  Dear Nara Claymore,

  We are sorry to tell you that your submission for the Poiz Design Award has been disqualified. The dress design you submitted was copyrighted last year by LaTigue Designs. We here at Poiz take great pride in our design award and do not think lightly of plagiarism.

  The email went on, but Nara stopped reading, her tongue stuck to the roof of her mouth. What are they saying? They think she stole the design from LaTigue? How could she have? She created that from scratch three years ago.

  The elevator dinged and the doors opened. In a daze, Nara stepped into the confined space and pressed the button for the eleventh floor. How could this have happened? She didn’t even know that much about LaTigue. She opened her browser with one finger while still holding Chelsea’s coffee in her other hand. With her thumb, she searched LaTigue, and scanned the Wiki article. Eight words jumped out at her and made it hard to breathe.

  LaTigue Designs is a subsidiary of AVA Designs.

  Anger and humiliation coursed through her as she put two and two together. Chelsea had stolen her dress design. Bile rose in her throat. How many of her other designs had she taken and passed off as her own? It made her sick to think of all the designs she’d given her.

  The elevator doors slid open and Nara marched out and down the hallway. How dare she? This was her life’s ambition. And Chelsea has ruined her reputation and stolen what was rightfully hers.

  She turned the handle and shoved the door open, letting it hit the wall with a loud thud. Chelsea’s gaze whipped up to hers. “What’s going on?”

  Nara’s hand clenched around her phone as she stalked toward Chelsea’s immense desk. “How many?” she said, between her clenched teeth.

  Chelsea was the epitome of NY sophistication. Her blonde hair was perfectly wrapped up in a French style, her heels matched her blood red nails, and her black blazer and pencil skirt showed everyone she was a businesswoman through and through. The only thing that didn’t match was the puzzled expression on her face. “How many what? I asked you to get me coffee. One. Which I see you have.” She held out her hand in an impatient gesture.

  Nara seethed. “How many of my designs did you steal?”

  Her face morphed into a knowing smirk. Her gaze traveled over Nara, one eyebrow slowly rising. “You think your designs are worth stealing?”

  “Don’t give me that. I know you stole my designs. I just want to know how many.”

  Chelsea turned back to her computer, as if talking to Nara wasn’t worth her time. “I haven’t stolen anything from you.”

  Nara’s emotions sparked and she couldn’t stand there looking at Chelsea any longer. This woman had demeaned her too often. Forced her to race to get her stinkin’ coffee three blocks away when there was a perfectly fine coffee pot in the break room. She not only stole her designs, but her dignity as well.

  Nara loosened the coffee cup lid and tossed the contents at Chelsea. Unfortunately, it was still stuck in place and all her flailing did was send a couple of tiny drops onto Chelsea’s white shirt. But from her reaction, you’d think the whole thing had emptied on her. She shrieked and jumped up,
her chair hitting the wall. Her face flamed red. “How dare you?”

  “Man, you went from Uptight Schoolmarm to Demon from Hell in point three seconds flat.” Nara tossed the coffee cup onto the desk. It toppled over and liquid gushed out. “I quit.”

  “You’re fired!” Chelsea yelled, grabbing the coffee.

  “No, I quit first.” Before Chelsea had the chance to say anything else, Nara dashed out of the office and down the hallway to the elevator.

  As she pressed the button, she heard Chelsea yell, “Security!”

  Too late, Nara thought as she stepped onto the elevator. She was so out of there. Her pulse raced and her hands shook as she exited the building. The smell of rotting garbage mixed with car exhaust and a restaurant’s breakfast menu hit her as she walked on the pavement. It made her stomach roll. Right now, she hated New York.

  Her pace slowed as the events from the morning played over and over in her head. She couldn’t believe what Chelsea had done. She’d stolen from her. Ruined her. Now she was jobless, and if she didn’t find a way to pay the rent, she would soon be homeless.

  The weight of her situation pressed down on her as she stepped over a steaming grate. Chelsea had been stealing her work. But how was she supposed to prove it? She had no high-powered attorney. She had no money to fight. She had no way to prove she’d created that dress three years ago. Her reputation was ruined, and there wasn’t anything she could do about it. Visions of her dream job swirled down the drain, making her feel like throwing up.

  She needed Derek. She felt so alone right now. Desperate. Her world was crumbling before her eyes, and she needed a lifeline. But she couldn’t call him. She hadn’t spoken to him once since she’d left. She was so embarrassed that her father had forced them to get married. And she was embarrassed she’d acted so stupid for that week.

  Her face heated just thinking about it. How she’d sat on his lap on the porch and made out with him. How she’d practically thrown herself at him. And how he had carefully let her know that she was like a sister to him, not a wife.

  That was probably the most embarrassing. How kind he was toward her. How he’d known exactly what she wanted, when she wanted it. And how she’d mistaken that for the kind of love that tilted her world, the kind she couldn’t have now that she craved it.