by Leslie North
2
Everything had been arranged so beautifully, perfectly, even. As she sat perched atop a bale of hay in the open door of the old barn, Virginia couldn’t help the bile from rising up the back of her throat at the thought. Everything had been going exactly to plan, right up until the moment when it wasn’t. And the resulting implosion of her life was proving to be every bit as catastrophic as one might expect. More so, even, because all of Virginia’s hopes and dreams were pinned on a soon-to-be marriage that wasn’t going to happen.
“God,” she moaned to herself while she twisted the cage around the top of a bottle of champagne, “that’s just about the most pitiful thing I’ve ever heard, and it was in my own stinking head.”
This was supposed to be the happiest time of her life. She was supposed to be counting down the hours until she could marry Tom, excitedly looking forward to the business she would launch after the honeymoon. She was supposed to be here so she and Jonah could finalize the contract to sell her the barn, for Pete’s sake. Now, everything was about to come crashing down on her head, and the only thing she could think of to prevent it was so insane she could hardly stand to think about it.
“When you make a mess of things, Tommy, you really do it with style, don’t you?” she said to her absent ex-fiancé and the swallows nesting in the barn rafters. How she could have been so completely wrong about a person, she had no idea. One of the reasons she had agreed to marry Tom was that she believed he would allow her the kind of freedom and autonomy her own mother had never been afforded by her imposing, conservative father. Little had she known exactly what sort of freedom he’d expected in return for his understanding.
“Disgusting,” she muttered under her breath before giving a little whoop of success at finally getting the foil off of the expensive champagne. The champagne she was supposed to drink with Tommy on their honeymoon, she reminded herself stonily. She popped the cork, smiling ruefully at the indignant birds’ screeching responses. She took a long swig straight from the bottle’s sleek neck and considered that she should count herself as lucky. Lucky that she had walked in on Tommy screwing one of the receptionists from his car dealership before the wedding and not after. Lucky that she had dodged his secret expectations that she’d focus on her new business and on their home, and he’d be free to sleep around as much as he wanted. Just the thought of it made her want to chuck the bottle across the barn and watch it explode into a million pieces. She might have done it, too, except that it was nice champagne, and she wasn’t willing to waste one more thing on a man like Tom.
It was the sound of a horse’s hooves that pulled her out of her spiraling thoughts. God, Jonah was going to think she had gone mental if he saw her sitting slouched on a bale of hay, wayward bits of straw in her hair and a mostly full bottle of bubbly in one hand. She sat up straighter, doing her best to smooth down her blonde waves while simultaneously finding a way to hold a bottle of open champagne in the middle of an afternoon without it looking weird. In a barn. By yourself, she reminded herself miserably. She had imagined this meeting with Jonah plenty of times, but not once had it looked quite like this.
“Well,” he said, eyes widening a little as he led his horse around the open barn door’s edge, “I gotta say, this was not what I was expecting to find when I got here. Looks like you started the party without me.”
“Right,” she said, smiling and hoping she didn’t seem as nervous as she felt, “about that. There’s just one last thing we need to talk about. A sort of a hiccup, if you will.”
Jonah knew there was a problem the second he caught a good look at Virginia’s face. She was trying hard to hide her distress and truthfully, was doing a pretty damn good job. He might have believed everything was fine if she hadn’t been holding so tightly to the neck of her bottle of hooch with her left hand. Her left hand, from which her Easter egg-sized engagement rock was now conspicuously missing.
“A hiccup, huh? What kind of hiccup might that be?” he asked slowly, watching her face carefully all the while. She sighed, took a sip of the bubbly right from the bottle, and then looked at him earnestly.
“Do you remember my mentioning how I came into the money I was going to pay you for this barn?”
“Yeah, I remember a little something about that. Money your grandmother is giving you as a wedding present.”
“Right. Only, as it turns out I’m not getting married anymore, which means we have a problem.”
Jonah hated himself a little for the lurch of disappointment in his stomach. He had known this whole thing was too good to be true from the start. Why he’d gone ahead and put down a deposit on those damn studs was beyond him—a deposit he’d lose with nothing to show for it when he couldn’t come up with the rest of the money. Being out the money was bad enough, but the loss of business was worse. Like a fool, he’d gone ahead and lined up work with a new business interested in what the studs would bring to the table. No studs, no new business, and a line of bad word of mouth as the cherry on top. This was going to put him in a tight spot, and it was his own damn fault.
“Shit,” he groaned, trying not to let himself take his anger out on her. It wasn’t exactly her fault, and if she was dealing with a marriage failed before it ever started, she was probably hurting a hell of a lot worse than him.
“I know,” she agreed, blushing a little, “it’s not ideal. But there’s a still a chance to make things right. I’ve come up with a plan, if you want to hear it.”
“Shoot, if you’ve got something up your sleeve, I’m all ears. Nothing to lose now, right?”
“Right. Now, please don’t rush to judgment on this. Your first instinct might be to say no, but if you hear me out, I think you might be willing to go along with this.”
“Needs that kind of a disclaimer, does it?” he asked, intrigued despite himself.
“It’s a little unorthodox, so yeah, I guess it does,” she said, laughing a little nervously. If anything, that only piqued his interest further.
“Why don’t you just go ahead and say it, sugar? Put us both out of our misery.”
“I was thinking...I was thinking you could be the one to marry me.”
“I’m sorry,” he laughed, “but are you out of your ever-loving mind?”
“No, actually, I’m not. It’s not a romantic proposition, surely you must know that. It would be purely business. My grandmother’s will doesn’t specify the identity of the man I marry. As soon as we tie the knot, I’ll get all of the money I was expecting and everything will go on exactly as we planned.”
“Right, except we’ll be married,” Jonah pointed out. It was lunacy, this plan of hers, which was why it was so disconcerting that it made a weird sort of sense. Virginia seemed to know that he was actually considering the idea, and her nervous expression became tentatively hopeful. She stood, holding the bottle of champagne out for him to take, but for the moment he held off.
“We will be, but it will be a marriage of convenience. Your life will barely have to change. Nearly everything can stay just as it is—but better, because you’ll have that money. All I want is to be able to live my own life, and right now that means starting my own business. I can tell that’s what you want, too.”
“Doesn’t take a genius to see that much,” he put in for his two cents.
“And that’s exactly what you would be getting,” she went on, totally undeterred. “It would be business; no strings attached. After a reasonable amount of time we’ll get divorced, quietly, so it doesn’t make any waves with my wedding business.”
“Don’t you think people will get suspicious?” Jonah asked. The question alone showed more interest than he was comfortable with, but he couldn’t help it; the idea had him hooked.
“That’s true, and it brings me to my next point,” she said matter-of-factly.
“Your next point, huh? You’ve got a genuine business plan here, don’t you?”
“I wouldn’t come to you with anything less,” she answered without m
issing a beat, “and it’s not anything you don’t already know. Like you said, people would notice if we got married and then divorced the very next week or something. Of course, when it comes to the money, it won’t make a difference. Granny never said I had to stay married in order to inherit. But if we’re both running businesses in this town, we need people to see us as dependable, reliable. Marrying on a whim and divorcing in a hurry would hurt both our reputations.”
“We could just tell people the truth,” he suggested.
“And have the whole town speculating about how much I paid you to marry me? Not on your life. No, the marriage will have to look real from the outside. We’ll have to put on a show and we’ll have to live together, but I don’t think that has to be a bad thing.”
“Oh no?” Jonah countered, “You don’t think faking a relationship twenty-four-seven will be that bad?”
“Nope,” she shrugged, “I don’t. You never know. We might have some fun.”
It was a crossroads and he knew it. He didn’t want to be tied down, not to anyone, and getting himself into a partnership with Virginia would do exactly that. He’d agreed to the sale of the barn in the first place because he’d been thinking that her business, even if it was run on his property, would be entirely her concern. They wouldn’t work together, they wouldn’t depend on each other, and they wouldn’t have to worry about letting each other down. It had seemed like the perfect setup to him. But now that plan was out the window, and this new idea seemed to be their only shot at fulfilling their dreams.
At the end of the day, though, he needed money for what he wanted, and Virginia’s proposition was the best shot he had for that. Also, although he didn’t love admitting it to himself, he couldn’t help being intrigued by her mention of having some fun. He cleared his throat and pulled the cowboy hat off his head before sticking his hand out in her direction.
“You’re in?” she squealed, sliding her hand into his and shaking it vigorously.
“I’m in, but I don’t want a handshake, woman. I want that damned bottle. If we’re going to fake a marriage, I’m going to need a drink.”
3
“Whoa. Okay, is that you, or is it the barn? Please tell me it’s the barn, Jonah, or we’re going to have a real problem on our hands.”
“Hey, Katie,” Jonah mumbled over his shoulder to his brother’s wife, putting down his shovel and straightening up with a groan. He’d gotten up with the sun just like he did every day, but today he was dragging in a big way. After splitting the bottle of fancy champagne with Virginia and signing away his soul, he’d headed home and kept right on drinking. Now his head was buzzing with just a little bit too much whiskey, and his mouth still tasted stale, despite the morning’s Listerine.
“Hi yourself,” she said with a wry smile, “and may I just say, you look like hell.”
“Gee, thanks. Good to see you, too, sis.”
“Sister-in-law,” she corrected, laughing merrily and rebalancing the tray she was carrying, “which means I can say all of the mean things I want. Seriously, though, what’s going on with you? You look like you’re hurting some.”
“Truth time?” he smiled painfully, “I am.”
“Ha! I totally knew it. And I want to talk about it, too, and the text you sent Ian last night.”
“Shit. I sent you guys a text?” Jonah asked, adding mortification on top of the queasy feeling in the pit of his stomach.
“Oh, brother of mine, did you ever. And I want to talk about all of it, but first can we please get out of this barn? Like, yesterday? It stinks to high heaven in here!”
“It doesn’t stink, Katie. That’s just the smell of animals. Totally normal.”
“Yeah? Well I for one much prefer the smell of a kitchen full of cooking food.”
Jonah was about to tell her not to be so sensitive but on second thought, kept his mouth shut. Normally, he liked the smell of the barn—but with the hangover he was sporting, getting out of the barn didn’t seem like a bad idea. Instead of disagreeing with her, he grimaced and nodded his head.
“Now that you mention it, I’d have to agree. Come on, give me that tray. What have you got there, anyway?”
“Breakfast. I figured you might need something greasy to soak up the booze,” she said with a smirk. He rolled his eyes, but he was grateful for the gesture. A plate of eggs and bacon didn’t sound half bad with the way he was feeling. Then again, nothing Katie made ever sounded bad—the woman was an amazing cook.
“When you’re right, you’re right. I’m not mad at you for this, I can tell you that much.”
Jonah hunkered down next to the barn, leaning his back gratefully against the side. He was only twenty-nine, by most standards still young, but his partying days were well behind him. He wasn’t used to getting up early and working off a hangover anymore, and it was something he sure didn’t miss.
“Good?” Katie asked, sitting beside him and smiling as he dug into the breakfast.
“Damn good,” he agreed. “Is it one of those healthy things you like to cook?”
“Of course it is,” she laughed, “just like everything else I cook. It’s my thing. Which, incidentally, is not what I came here to talk about. I want to talk about you and that text.”
“Right. Maybe want to refresh my memory on what it said? Some things from last night are a little hazy.”
“I would be glad to. Assuming I got this right, you’re planning on getting married?”
“Ah. Yeah, I shouldn’t have sent that,” Jonah answered, cursing himself inside his head. Katie and Ian were going to have to find out about his plans, there was no way around that. He didn’t intend to lie to his brother, and he had grown very fond of Katie and had no desire to lie to her, either. Still, he could think of plenty of better ways of breaking the news to them than over a stupid drunk text.
“I don’t think the problem is that you sent the message, honey, I think the problem is the plan itself,” Katie answered. Her voice was gentle, there was that, at least. She wasn’t trying to make him feel like a fool or anything. Then again, she didn’t need to. He was doing just fine on that front on his own.
“I don’t know how much the message said, Katie, but I didn’t meet a girl yesterday and suddenly lose my mind and decide to get hitched. It’s not a real wedding.”
“You mentioned that part. Believe it or not, that’s one of my biggest concerns.”
“Hold on, you’d rather it be real?”
“Honestly? Yeah, I think I would,” she said, her voice small and a little sad. Jonah glanced at her between forkfuls of eggs and then looked away quickly. Emotions weren’t his strong point. He could tell she was upset, but he wasn’t sure why and had no idea what to say to make things better. Christ, but women would never make sense to him, not as long as he lived. Even one he liked as well as Katie occasionally did things that left him totally flummoxed.
“Katie—” he started, woefully unsure of what he was going to say next.
“Look, I’m not trying to act like a freak, here. All I’m trying to say is that I’ve done what you’re doing.”
“Is there something I need to know about you and Ian?” Jonah cracked, a half-hearted attempt at lightening the mood. Katie ignored it.
“Jonah, I’m pretty sure there are few people on this Earth who are more aware of how badly it can blow up in your face to live a lie.”
“Katie—” Jonah immediately felt guilty for the joke.
“No, just let me say it. I did my best to live a lie when my cooking blog took off. It was going so well, and I just wanted to keep my fans happy, so I kept giving them what I thought they wanted—even if it meant lying and plagiarizing recipes. I had my entire life wrapped up in it, for God’s sake. Like, every single part of it. When the truth came to light, and it always does, it meant my whole world imploded. I lost everything that I’d thought was important—my career, my fans, my reputation. It was brutal, trying to make something good for myself again after that. I don�
�t even have the words to explain it to you.” She just stared at him when she was done, forcing him to take in the full weight of what she was saying. And he felt it, all right, whether he wanted to or not.
“Shit, I’m sorry, Katie.”
“I’m not trying to make you feel sorry for me,” she said, shaking her head with a small smile, “I don’t want that, I promise you. I just want you to avoid the same thing happening to you. Trying to be something you’re not can ruin you. It almost did me.”
“I can’t tell you how much I appreciate you looking after me, but I just don’t see your situation and mine as the same thing at all.”
“No? How is it different?” she asked, this time with just the faintest hint of a challenge in her voice.
“Well, your deal was public for real—you were a celebrity, with tons of people watching you. This marriage with Virginia, it’s not really public. It’s just in our little town. I don’t feel like that’s enough to destroy anybody. This is just a business move, nothing less, nothing more.”
“I don’t agree,” she countered, “because it’s still a relationship. That’s the funny thing about relationships. Whether they’re in business or personal, by their very nature they’re intimate. I mean, honestly, Jonah, are you really ready to work that closely with someone?”
That hit him at a vulnerable spot. He truly was worried about ending up in a position where he was depending too much on anyone. Life had taught him that it was always better to stand on his own. But that shouldn’t be a problem here…right?
“We won’t be working closely. She gets her space and use of the land and I get the money for the studs I’m looking to buy. There’s not a lot of interaction there, right?”