Marry Me, Right Now : (Marriage of Convenience Romance, Toronto)

by Haley Travis

  Her eyes registered a level of haughtiness I’ve never witnessed before. “No need to be snippy, dear. I just came down to see if the rumors were true.”

  “What rumors?”

  “That you were associating with lowlifes and people who aren’t nearly up to your standing.”

  “My… are you joking?”

  “You’re part of our family now, Mia, and like it or not, we expect a certain level of behavior, and a little more consideration of the company you keep.”

  “Do you hear yourself?” I snapped. “You’d think you’re royalty. You have paintings on the walls of your home. How do you think those fancy-ass artists get started and theatre productions get made? By people who start out at the bottom of the ladder, working crazy hours at shitty jobs to pay for rehearsals and stage clothes and supplies. People who are dedicated even though they have no resources. You celebrate the few people who make it to the top, but you look down on those who are trying to climb their way up? Shame on you.”

  Her mouth hung open for several seconds before she snapped it shut. She stood up quickly, turning on her designer heels and gracefully stomping out of the room without daring to glance at the men on the couch. As soon as we heard the downstairs door shut, everyone visibly took a breath.

  “Mia, are you okay?” Tim asked.

  I walked over to them, slumping into a chair. “Dammit. What have I done?”

  Berkley clapped a hand on my shoulder. “You kicked ass, girl. That uptight bitch has no right to judge you.”

  I couldn’t explain that I may have just ruined everything, just nodding, staring at the pile of papers without seeing them.

  Slowly Robbie sat up, leaning heavily to the side. “Are you feeling any better, man?” Tim asked.

  He was reaching around in his jacket pockets. “Do you need some more medicine?” Berkley asked.

  A huge steel flask emerged, and he handed it to me. “In case of emergency,” he said hoarsely, lying back down.

  “Thanks, Robbie,” I said, taking a long pull of the cheap whiskey. Funny how some people instinctively knew how to care for others.

  JAC OB

  <<< 47 >>>

  FAMILY STRESS

  After a positively irate phone call from my mother, I knew that Mia and I were going to have to have a serious conversation when I got home. I’d been dealing with my mother’s quirks my entire life, and perhaps I hadn’t warned Mia enough about how fussy she was.

  On the other hand, I had never anticipated my wife working with what was hysterically described to me as a room full of dangerous, drug-addled, scary biker looking men. Apparently, I was supposed to be shocked, and concerned for her reputation, her virtue, and what people were obviously saying about our family.

  My mother was always under the impression that everyone we knew had nothing better to do than talk about us at great length. I don’t think anyone beyond her and possibly George even knew that Mia had started a business. My friends who knew about it were delighted, since they were being sent invitations to openings and shows ahead of their other friends, so they could feel like they were in the inner circle.

  Everyone always wanted to feel like they were in the know, and Mia was learning how to exploit that perfectly, for the benefit of everyone. It was one of the many, many things I admired about her, as I got to know her better. She found balance everywhere she went, and except for her aversion to extreme wealth, was incredibly non-judgmental.

  I arrived home just before Mia usually did, and met her on the couch with a full wineglass in her place.

  “Let me guess,” she said, with a heavy sigh as she kicked off her shoes and dropped her purse. “Your mother had a chat with you today.”

  I smiled gently as she plopped on the couch beside me and took a huge swig of wine. I sniffed the air, curious. “Do I smell whiskey?”

  She nodded. “A couple of sips, in case of emergency.” Her giggle sounded more relaxed than the tense look in her eyes. “I’m sorry.”

  “Did you actually tell my mother off?”

  “Maybe a bit.”

  “Do you think that was a good idea?”

  She set her wine glass down and nervously twirled her ring. “I didn’t mean to. She was being absolutely insane. And incredibly insulting. I’m sorry I snapped.”

  I tried to keep my expression neutral as I asked, “And you had a crazed gang of drug addicts in your office?”

  She rolled her eyes. “Burnt Filth were there working, and their drummer was smashed from his migraine meds, so he was half out of it. Apparently, this likely makes me a druggie harlot and some sort of gutter trash that doesn’t deserve to be in the family.”

  Her hand reached for mine and gave me a little squeeze. “Jacob, I’m so sorry. I never wanted to cause any trouble. I know this isn’t part of our deal, but I accidentally stumbled into a business I dearly love. But I can shut it down immediately. Put it on hold until our divorce, then start it up again. I did calculate everything, and with my cut, I can live very carefully for several years while I build up my own little arts agency, and maybe that could be my career.”

  “Mia, I don’t want you to quit.”

  Her hair swayed gently as she cocked her head. “But your mother is horrified.”

  “She can suck it.”

  Her mouth fell open. It looked like she didn’t breathe for a moment. “What did you just say?”

  I took a sip of wine, trying to figure out a way to explain. “My mother has been a pushy nag my entire life. Wow. I’ve never actually said that out loud, but you’re the one person I really need to speak the truth with.” She looked like she was touched by my honesty. “I’ve always just put up with her crap because it was easier than telling her off.” I squeezed her hand, leaning a bit closer. “Mia, I will never repeat the things she said about you, but it showed me flat out that she’s a snotty, judgmental bitch.”

  She shook her head. “Yeah, but it doesn’t matter what she says about me. I shouldn’t be causing any waves. I should be invisible. Learn to be a nice society country club wife. Play the game.” She flashed me a sad little smile. “The show must go on.”

  “Not if it’s going to wreck something that you really want.”

  “I can’t mess up our plan. It’s okay. I can close the agency, and pick it up whenever it’s safe.”

  “Mia... I can’t even believe you’d consider shutting down something you’re brilliant at, and you obviously love.” I was stunned. No woman had ever given anything up for me before.

  “It can wait a year and a bit. Our project comes first, and it’s more important – especially since your business and reputation hang in the balance. Now that I understand what I want to do, and have proven that it works, I can start it up again once we’re, you know.”

  “Over.”

  “Yeah.” She looked completely uncomfortable saying that, which gave me hope.

  I couldn’t think of a way to tell her that it didn’t have to be over without sounding desperate. I knew I’d have to be the one to bring that subject up first, but I was scared. It may have been the first time in my life I’ve been genuinely, absolutely terrified. It was an unusual sensation, more intense than I had anticipated.

  “Do you know what today is?” I asked, trying to change the subject.

  “Tuesday?”

  “It’s the ninth. Our one month anniversary.”

  “Oh wow.” She looked at me strangely, and we both looked down to see that we were still holding hands.

  “Do you think that qualifies as–”

  “Vacation,” she whispered, leaning in gently to kiss me.

  My arms slid around her so naturally, that I realized how much I couldn’t stand not being able to do this every day. Pulling her on top of me, her body settled against mine perfectly.

  Her lips parted, drawing me in, our mouths hungry and urgent. Her tiny moan almost undid my resolve to ask my important question. Pulling away from her reluctantly, I gazed into those sweet, warm ey
es, holding her face between my palms.

  “Mia,” I said slowly, “Please tell me what you want.”

  “Bedroom. Now.”

  That wasn’t exactly the answer I needed to hear, but I was happy to wait an hour or so.

  M I A

  <<< 48 >>>

  BEDROOM

  Jacob grabbed my hand as we rushed to the bedroom, ripping our own clothes off in our hurry to be in his bed naked together as quickly as possible.

  He kissed me with his entire body, pulling me against him as his lips ground into mine. His hand stroked along my stomach, pressing against me firmly as he worked his way lower until his fingers slid between my legs, opening my pussy lips as I moaned against him. Tracing two fingertips around my entrance, I could feel my arousal wet against his skin.

  As he slid inside me, I gasped, my hips tilting so that my clit was grinding against his palm.

  “Is that what you wanted?” he whispered, grinning as he thrust deeper.

  “Mmm hmm,” I murmured, completely inarticulate as I spread my legs wider for him. The way his eyes raked over my figure from my lips to my toes drove me crazy. He seemed to think I was wildly sexy, and because of that, I felt it. Like some kind of free, sexual woman who is so open she can do whatever she wants.

  I rolled him onto his back, my knees beside his hips as I gripped his hot erection in my hand. Stroking him firmly, I began rubbing him against my skin, licking my lips at him as he stared at me.

  “You are so fucking beautiful,” he said.

  I wanted to make another crack about the only time he ever cursed was when we were naked, but it didn’t seem like the appropriate time to make a joke.

  Working the thick head of his cock between my soaked pussy lips, I begin sinking him inside me.

  He sat up for a second, cupping my face in his hands. “I love... When you take control.”

  He kissed me gently, so sweetly romantic as I was slowly rocking up and down over him. Then he laid back, gripping my hips as he groaned softly. “Mia, you are too perfect.”

  Arching back, I placed my hands on his thighs, openly humping his thick cock while he stared at me writhing over him. I felt so open, so comfortable with him, that I wasn’t ashamed of being so utterly wanton. I felt the heat gathering across my hips, and couldn’t stop moaning, begging, “Harder, please. Oh, Jacob, yes...”

  A tiny sound toward the door startled me, and I turned to see a man standing there with his mouth open. I screamed as I jumped off Jacob, clutching a sheet to cover myself.

  Jacob must have seen the shadow of the intruder as he ran, as he had thrown on a pair of shorts and torn off down the hallway before I could even stop screaming.

  JAC OB

  <<< 49 >>>

  INTERRUPTION

  I was genuinely ready to attack whoever was in my home, not just for trespassing, but for upsetting Mia at the worst possible time. I needed to wrap my hands around the sonofabitch’s throat and squeeze until the light in his eyes died. Then I saw it was George, standing in the foyer about to leave.

  “What the hell were you doing?” I yelled.

  He shrugged, half laughing. “I thought I was finally gonna catch you with some bimbo, you know.”

  “I’m married. Quite happily, I might add.”

  George raised an eyebrow. “You must realize that not everyone believed it.”

  “You think I’d fake such a thing? How dare you.”

  “C’mon man, think about it. You figured out the clause about the house–”

  “Which you hid from me.” I realized that I was glaring so hard I was almost trying to murder him with my eyes.

  “Whatever. Then you show up out of nowhere with some little...”

  “Some. Little. What?” My jaw was clenched so tightly I could barely form words. My feet were lurching toward him, and I was fighting the urge to grab him by the throat and squeeze. That snotty spoiled piece of shit had gone way too far this time.

  “Jacob?” The terrified tiny voice behind me snapped me out of my rage.

  “It was George, sweetheart.”

  “I’m so sorry, Mia,” he said. “I didn’t mean to interrupt–”

  “Some little what?” she asked, her eyes already sparkling with tears. She was wrapped in a blanket, trembling. “A little nobody? Somebody who has to work for a living? Someone who is beneath you all? Why not just tell the truth and call me trash to my face?”

  Her huge eyes looked like something inside her had shattered, which caused me to absolutely snap. “Give me the key, now,” I growled at George.

  He took it from his keyring, setting it on the hallway table. “Calm down. It was just a misunderstanding.”

  “Don’t worry, you’ll be sure to understand this,” I said as I grabbed him by the scruff of the neck, marched him to the door and opened it. “You will never, ever cross this threshold again,” I growled in his ear, bashing his shoulder hard against the door frame before throwing him into the hallway. “Security will never let you in this building again. Get the fuck out of my life.”

  I needed to slam the door behind him, but couldn’t risk scaring Mia any more. I closed it softly and locked it, then ran to her, scooping her into my arms. “Baby, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

  “Is that how your family thinks of me?”

  Picking her up, I carried her to the bedroom. I laid her down still wrapped up like a cute burrito, the dark blanket making her look so delicately pale. She was so upset and angry that she was still trembling.

  I sat up, holding her in my arms. “I will never care about my mother or George’s opinions again. The rest of the family can either accept you precisely the way you are, or go to hell. I don’t care anymore. You’re the most important person in this world to me.”

  M I A

  <<< 50 >>>

  FAKE BUT REAL

  I was shaking like a leaf and didn’t know what to do. I knew full well that I didn’t belong in Jacob’s world, except as his extremely fake wife to earn him money. Or to prevent his brother from getting that house. But it should never have gone this far, and I should never have let myself develop real feelings for him.

  “Mia,” Jacob whispered, rocking me gently. “I’m so sorry. I’ll change the locks first thing so that nobody but us and Carol have keys. I’ll speak with security and George and my mother will never be in this building again.”

  I began crying softly, furious that I couldn’t stop. “I know that on some level I’m not good enough for you, and you’ll likely be glad to have me out of your life.”

  Jacob looked stunned, but I couldn’t stop babbling.

  “He’s right,” I said sadly. “Everyone likely knows that we could never really be together. I can just imagine what they’ve been saying about us. That you’re slumming with a piece of trash to rebel against your family, or having a pre-thirties crisis, and that I’m just a broke little gold digger who got lucky.”

  His eyes tightened with anger. “If you ever say something like that again, I will be severely pissed off.”

  “You know it’s the truth.” My face dropped as my whole body needed to curl into a ball.

  His hand grabbed my chin and turned my face up to his. It was the only time he’d ever been the tiniest bit rough with me outside of sex, and I could see that he was as shocked as I was. “I cannot stand that those words touched your lips. Mia, I swear I will wash your mouth out with soap if you say something like that again.”

  A few tears fell onto my cheeks, and his fingers gently wiped them away. “I thought it was brutally obvious,” he said quickly, “But I’ve loved you from the moment you agreed to come to a strange man’s home for dinner. From the moment you solved the problem of making sense of the rushed date to our wedding. From the moment you showed me that you’re my go-to gal, who always figures out a way.”

  He took a deep breath, intensely meeting my gaze. “Mia, I choose you over my family. I don’t want to live for them, or anyone else anymore. Just you. If yo
u want us to sell the condo and move to the country, I’d do it. If you want me to sell the company and move to Iceland, or give away all of the money and we’ll run an art studio somewhere together, I’d do it.”

  Gently kissing my forehead, he whispered, “I want there to be a million more moments so that I can fall in love with you again and again. Please don’t judge me by my family.”