The Billionaire's Temporary Bride (Scandal, Inc Book 3)

by Avery James

  Charlotte could feel the blisters forming on her hands from her turns at the press. She knew her arms would be sore the next morning, too.

  A few kids played in the side yard, and Jack sat grinning in a chair next to the press.

  "I hate to be the bearer of bad news," Charlotte said, "but sooner or later, they're going to ask you to help clean up."

  "Ahh," Jack said, "I was wondering why they wanted us to stick around."

  "They were pretty upfront about it. They'll do anything for free labor."

  Jack got up and looked at the press. "I'll have to look into getting one of these for myself. Maybe I should just take this one. Do you think it will fit in the trunk?"

  "That press has been passed down through my mother's family for over a hundred years. I don't think it's going anywhere."

  "I guess we'll just have to come back next year," Jack said. He picked up an apple from the lawn that must have rolled away to save itself and offered it to her.

  "Are you trying to tempt me?" Charlotte asked.

  "Get your mind out of the garden," Jack teased.

  "Oh please," Charlotte said. He was right though. She was turning this morning into something it wasn't, no matter how much being with Jack felt like forbidden fruit.

  Jack walked around the press, examining it like it held the answer to the question they had both avoided. What about the year after that? What will we do then?

  "Hey, honey, will you come over here and help," Jack said, shooing the bees away from the pomace as he approached the press, "or do I have to do all the heavy lifting myself?"

  "I see how it is," Charlotte said. "You want all the credit and half the work."

  "Why do you think I asked you to marry me?" Jack joked. "Come on."

  Charlotte didn't know what the weeks and months ahead held for her. She didn't know how deep Jack's feelings for her went or whether or not the marriage plan would work, but for the moment, that didn't matter.

  The sun was shining, and he was by her side. Charlotte rolled up her sleeves and joined in.

  Chapter 14

  It wasn't fair.

  Charlotte was smart and funny, and she was beautiful. She could really light up a room with her presence. That was something Jack hadn't expected. She wasn't extroverted. She didn't demand attention like other women he had been with. Instead, she was happy to sit in a corner on a quiet evening and read, but still, whenever she was around, his life felt fuller. He felt himself gravitating toward her, like she was altering his orbit away from power and prestige toward something more important, something more closely resembling real life. When he looked at her and she smiled back, the broken machinery of the outside world, all of the meetings and conference calls and late night flights, all quieted down for a moment.

  At least for as long as the contract lasted.

  It wasn't fair.

  If she felt anything like what he felt, it wasn't fair for him to do this. Charlotte deserved so much more than a fake marriage to a man who couldn't open up to her. He had promised not to lie to her, but there were things he could never tell her at all, especially about his family. She deserved a man who could devote his life to her, fully and with nothing to hide. He knew he could never be that man. That wouldn't stop him from trying, though.

  A few days after they returned from the trip to her parents' house, Charlotte had moved in with Jack for real. His bedroom had taken on a completely different look. Charlotte had her drawers next to the bed, her closet full of clothes and her countertop full of makeup, perfume and everything else that women shroud themselves in before heading out into the world.

  The first night, they had discussed what would be the best bedroom situation, but neither seemed willing to suggest separate rooms. They had been sleeping in the same bed ever since.

  Charlotte was flawless when she was all made up. The wardrobe she and Callie had put together only added to her beauty, but Jack preferred the way she looked in the morning, right after waking up, when he could clearly see the tiny freckles on her nose and the slight wave to her hair as Charlotte drowsed in and out of sleep. Whenever he woke before her, he marveled at how she smiled while she slept, not a big, toothy grin or anything like that, just a little upturn at the corner of her mouth and the hint of a dimple on her cheek. He almost hated to wake her only to see her cover up her natural beauty with makeup as she took on her role as his fake fiancée for another day.

  At all the parties and events, no one ever questioned their story. It just seemed natural that Jack would fall head over heels for someone as stylish and savvy as Charlotte. On that point everyone agreed. His friends liked to joke that they couldn't understand why she would have fallen for someone like him, but Jack could tell that they were envious. If only they knew that they envied a lie.

  In the weeks after moving into his place, Charlotte had really grown into her public role. Her voice grew stronger in public engagements and she held herself with a dignity and grace that made Jack look better by association. Early public opinion was overwhelmingly positive. Everyone loved Jack Coburn's redheaded better half.

  She was great at pretending to care about the inane chattering of political power brokers, but Jack liked Charlotte best when she was just herself, during the quiet moments when she teased him about his suits or had her nose pressed firmly into some book, laughing at the back and forth between two characters in Austen or Brontë or whoever she was rereading. Each day, however, she spent less time reading, and more time preparing for events, learning names and faces, playing the part of the doting fiancée…

  In short, she was wonderful, and he was ruining her. He didn't want to turn her into the polished, calculating, political spouse everyone else thought she could be. He didn't want to use her anymore. He didn't want to hurt her. Jack had known for some time that she'd need to meet his family, and he knew that as soon as she met them, he would lose control of how she saw him. She would see their selfishness and arrogance reflected in him, and she'd hate what she saw. As November wore on and the temperatures plummeted, he knew he'd soon have to head home and introduce her. He just feared what would happen when he did.

  Charlotte's family had been so warm and kind. They were the type of family — close-knit, loving, devoted — that he had never had. He loved his parents and his siblings, but no one had ever accused them of being paragons of family life. Especially since his father's death, they had turned against each other and against Jack in particular. He worried what Charlotte would think when she met them. Would they find some way to poison her against him? Would they lash out at her? It had been almost seven years since his father had passed away and still his siblings hadn't gotten over the fact that Jack had been named executor of the will.

  It hadn't been Jack's idea. He would have much rather handed everything over to the family's attorney, who, frankly, was much more experienced in trust management. His siblings took it as a sign of disrespect that Jack, the youngest, should be in control of the vast sums of money their father left behind for him, snubbing them.

  Of course, none of his siblings had the legal or financial expertise to execute a will or the real desire to do so. His siblings were nothing if not opportunistic. Like so many trust-fund kids and fortunate sons he knew, they took every opportunity to feel slighted, cheated and victimized as they cashed their checks and wasted their lives.

  Jack knew he should feel sorry for them, but he didn't. While they were off traveling Europe or sailing around the Caribbean, he had been attending law school, running for Congress, and doing everything within his power to keep his family and their prestigious name from falling to ruin. His siblings were quick to bask in the recognition of having a brother in Congress, but they wouldn't lift a finger to do any work themselves.

  He hated the way his heart seemed to switch off and some deeper furnace of frustration and anger took over whenever he went home, but they just had some way of bringing the worst out of him and themselves. Jack wanted to protect Charlotte from
seeing any of this to keep her pure and untarnished by whatever disease had driven his family to become the way they were.

  As December drew closer, however, Jack knew he had no choice. He had to bring Charlotte to meet his family. She had pressed him for weeks for information, believing, rightly, that it wasn't fair for him to spend a weekend with her parents when she hadn't so much as spoken to any one of his family members.

  He couldn't explain why his relationship with his family was so strained, at least not without telling her about Maria and Little Jack. He wished that he could tell her the truth, but the situation was just too complicated. He had promised not to lie to her. Now he just wondered how long it would be before he told her the entire truth.

  Finally, one morning, as Charlotte was lying in bed reading, and Jack was putting off heading into the office, he turned over and got it over with. "How'd you like to come to my mother's birthday party?"

  "Are you serious?" she asked. "I'd love to. I was starting to think you didn't want me to meet them."

  "I don't," he said, watching her expression sour. "It has nothing to do with you and everything to do with them. Just promise me that whatever happens, you won't hold their actions against me."

  "Come on," Charlotte said, "they can't be that bad."

  "You have no idea. This stuff goes back decades, and none of it is going to change any time soon."

  That morning, Charlotte must have seen something in his face that kept her from asking him to elaborate. The ride to the Coburn mansion from the airport once they'd arrived in Boston was a different matter.

  "There isn't even close to enough time to explain," Jack said. "Just know that everyone in my family blames everyone else for all kinds of things. I'm sure you'll figure out a lot of it during the stay, but let's just try not to focus on it."

  "Give it a shot," Charlotte said. She leaned over the center console and smiled at him. "Who knows, maybe we can make a game out of it — which Coburn is the rottenest, terriblest, most awful person in the world? What happens if they're all wonderful and it ends up being you?"

  Jack laughed. "Then I'll give up," he said.

  "Sounds like a deal to me," Charlotte said. "Do you need me to sign a contract for this one too?" she added.

  Jack slowed the car to a halt as he approached the large security gate at the entrance to his family's compound. Unlike the crushed shell, two-track road that stretched out beyond it and the shingled houses at the driveway's end, the gate was stark and modern, a new addition since that summer, the last time Jack had been home. He could see the bars of the gate and the cloudy sky beyond them reflected in the shiny black hood of his rental car. He pressed the button on the intercom and waved to the camera as he waited to be buzzed in.

  "This is going to be a little bit different than the reception we received at your parents' house," Jack said as the gate slowly slid open.

  "Well, if your family is putting up Halloween decorations in early December, we'll know something's wrong," Charlotte said. She had her visor flipped down and was trying to touch up her makeup as the car slowly wound down the long, bumpy road.

  "You'd think for a multimillion dollar property, we'd just go ahead and pave the damn driveway," Jack said.

  "It adds to the charm of the place," Charlotte said. She struggled to apply eyeliner as the car bounced up and down. "Plus it makes it feel that much further from the real world, like we're going back in time or crossing into some other dimension."

  "We're crossing into another dimension alright."

  As Jack drove, the cluster of gray-shingled mansions at the end of the drive came into view. His mother's house stood tallest, surrounded by the three other houses that belonged to aunts and uncles who split their time between the Cape in the summer and various world capitals during the rest of the year. Now, in December, as the dark surf crashed on the cold beach, the other houses were dark, and only his mother's house was lit up. Three shiny, new cars were parked out front.

  Here goes nothing, Jack thought to himself.

  "We're here," he said. "Prepare yourself for a few days of simmering resentment, rampant over-drinking, and several fights."

  "Sounds like my kind of fun," Charlotte said.

  "I'll make sure we have a room to retreat to in case things get too bad."

  "Oh, calm down. We're not invading occupied France, We're visiting your family for a weekend. We'll both survive."

  As Jack pulled his car up beside the others, Charlotte put the finishing touches on her eyes.

  "Any last bits of information I should know?" she asked.

  "My sister, Caroline, can be a bit intense at times. We'll know whether or not she's in a good mood about as soon as we see her. I think I've mentioned to you how my brother Whit spends most of his time sailing around the Caribbean. Sometimes I think he left some part of himself out there, long ago. My mom's my mom. I think she'll like you."

  "Ooh, name," Charlotte said. "Do I wait for her to introduce herself? Do I call her Mom? Do I avoid the situation entirely?"

  "Angela," Jack said. "You can call her Angela. My sister Caroline already does."

  "Great," Charlotte said.

  She stepped out of the car, and Jack felt the raw winter wind sweep through the open door. This place was paradise on a warm summer day, but in the winter it was barren, and it felt like it had been winter for years. Jack wondered if he could get away with a quick hello inside only to turn around. Despite everything, he wanted his family to like Charlotte. He didn't care much what they thought of him, but he wanted her to feel welcomed and loved, especially after the way her family had been so kind to him.

  He got out of the car and wrapped his scarf around his neck.

  Here goes nothing.

  He walked over, wrapped his arm around Charlotte and headed for the door. It was time, for better or for worse, to meet his family. Jack walked her up to the front door, opened it slowly, and stepped inside.

  Chapter 15

  The inside of the house seemed even larger than the outside, and the relatively normal front hall gave way to a large, two-story living room with cathedral ceilings and floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the dunes and the wide ocean below.

  A man Charlotte assumed to be Jack's brother stood by the window, slowly drinking something and staring out at the water. He looked to be in his late forties with thinning, dirty blond hair and a deep tan. Even though it was freezing outside, he was wearing shorts. His shirt was wrinkled. He barely seemed to notice that anyone else was in the room.

  Across the room, a tall brunette in a tight white dress who must have been Jack's sister Caroline swirled a glass of wine and waved to them.

  "Little brother," she said, "Whit and I were starting to wonder if you were ever going to show."

  Her words broke Whit's trance, and he turned and raised his glass toward Jack and Charlotte. His features were similar to Jack's, but he seemed to lack the spark that made Jack so attractive.

  Caroline cleared her throat. "Are you going to introduce us to your fiancée?" She took a sip of wine and faked a smile. She looked Charlotte up and down, evaluating her like she was calculating her next move.

  Over the past few months, Charlotte had gotten used to this kind of thing. In fact, she had started to regard it as a normal step in meeting someone for the first time. Of course Jack's sister would sit there and look her over to assess her for apparent strengths and weaknesses before introducing herself. Anything less would have been strange.

  Caroline was tall and brunette. Like Jack and Whit, she had blue eyes. She looked much more like Jack than like Whit, but most of it seemed due to the care with which she presented herself. Her hair was perfect. Not a single strand was out of place. It seemed to shimmer with the luster of obscenely expensive conditioner or maybe just the glow of wealth. Her makeup, her heels, her jewelry and everything else seemed completely put together. Charlotte wondered whether Caroline's meticulous look was a good sign or a bad sign. Either way, she was abo
ut to find out.

  "This is Charlotte Crowley," Jack said as Caroline approached and shook her hand. Whit nodded from the window when Charlotte looked over at him.

  "Did you need anything to drink?" Caroline asked.

  Charlotte smiled. "I'm good for right now."

  "Suit yourself," Caroline said, taking another deep sip of wine.

  Charlotte was starting to see why Jack hadn't been looking forward to a family reunion. There was a strange tension in the room. They hadn't been there for more than a minute, and already Charlotte could feel her blood pressure starting to rise.

  "Where's Mom?" Jack asked.

  "Oh, you know Angela. She's off running errands. She has a small army at her disposal, and yet she insists on doing almost everything herself. If you ask me, she's just been waiting for you two to arrive before coming back herself. You know how she likes to make an entrance. She'll be back any minute now."

  "Will anyone else be joining us?" Jack asked.

  "Not this year. Mom wanted a chance to get to know your new paramour."

  "She's my fiancée, Caroline." Jack said. He snuck a peek at his watch as if to ask when this would all be over.

  "Then she'll want all the dirt on you," Caroline said. "Charlotte, we have some great home videos of Jack-Jack when he was little. You'll love them."

  "Sounds great," Charlotte said. "I probably have a few stories of my own that you'll want to hear."

  "You sure you don't want some wine?"

  "I guess one glass wouldn't hurt," Charlotte replied, looking at Jack for guidance.

  "See," Caroline said, "you're becoming part of the family already."

  Before Caroline could start embarrassing Jack with old stories, their mother returned. Jack straightened up his posture, and Caroline put her wine glass down out of view, behind a potted plant.

  "Where is she?" their mother said. "Where is this mystery woman who has stolen my son's heart?"