by Nadia Lee
A gasp tears from my throat, and I cover my mouth with a hand. “Oh my gosh. I’m so sorry.” Dennis’s mom was such a sweetheart. I adored her.
“Then make it right,” he says. “Or I’m going to have a chat with your sister. Maybe she’ll be more reasonable.”
My body goes cold. “Keep Nonny out of this.”
“Can’t.” His hands tighten until his knuckles are bone-white. “You’re making it personal. I was doing fine until you showed up.”
“Dennis, listen to me.” I fix him with my eyes. “I had nothing to do with anything at OWM. Nothing.”
“I don’t give a shit. You fix it, Annabelle. Or I’m going to make you sorry.”
I breathe harshly. “Do you think threatening me is going to help you?”
“Maybe it will. Maybe it won’t. We’ll just have to wait and see, won’t we?”
I get to my feet. “I’ve heard enough. Don’t ever contact me again.”
“You say that now, but you’ll want to hear from me again,” he says. “I’ll make sure of it.”
My hands shake. I dump my coffee, unable to drink it when my stomach’s so tightly knotted, and get out. Thankfully Dennis doesn’t try to stop me.
As I walk out, I take one last look at him. He glares at me, eyes blazing. A cold sweat breaks out over my skin, sending shivers down my back. I want to believe he’s just misguided and upset right now, but I know better. He blames me, wants me to take responsibility for what’s going on his life and fix it.
All because of what Dad did.
Squeezing my eyes shut, I inhale and exhale. This is why I had to leave Lincoln City. Dad’s wrongdoing boxed me and Nonny in, as surely as a jail cell. Not even his death could change that.
He asked for it.
His being gunned down like an animal was simply justice as far as a lot of people in my hometown were concerned. And I, as the direct beneficiary of his terrible scheme, owed them. Of course there was no inheritance, but to them, I still benefited unfairly—all the nice clothes, the vacations, the expensive out-of-state college. They’ve never stopped to consider that by the time my dad’s fraud got exposed, his assets had been frozen, and I had nothing. The same for Dennis as well. But I suppose after our parents’ deaths they needed a target to vent their anger, and Dennis, Nonny and I were too convenient to be ignored.
I want to dismiss Dennis’s threat. I’m not certain what he can do really. But him talking to Nonny? No way. I don’t know what kind of poisonous things he might tell her. Although she’s mature for her age, she’s still too young and too close to the mess to be rational about it.
Which means I have to figure out if Elliot really is behind Dennis getting re-investigated…and I have no idea how I’m going to accomplish that.
* * *
Elliot
I bury myself in work, but it’s damn hard to focus. The lush, feminine scent of my wife seems to linger even though I showered earlier.
But then I went down on her afterward. That’s probably it.
I wasn’t going to take her again, but she was lying in bed and watching me with those unreadable green eyes…and I couldn’t help myself. Even as she unraveled with my mouth on her clit, I felt that she was just beyond my reach somehow. I don’t understand how that can be. She’s so responsive, her tight cunt always wet, hot and greedy for me. But it doesn’t matter how many times she comes in my arms or how hard and how deep I drive into her. There is a part of her—just a tiny sliver—that I can’t touch, and the knowledge spikes my anxiety, making me feel like an addict without the high he needs.
I want all of her. All of her smiles, all of her thoughts, all of her soul. I want to be the center of her universe, the sun that everything revolves around. She should dump all her worries at my feet, trusting that I’ll take care of them and provide for her.
My promise to her wasn’t empty talk. I will provide for my wife.
But she wants you to call her Annabelle.
I scowl at the laptop monitor. God, I need a fucking drink. I get up, about to grab the strongest thing I have on hand, but my phone rings.
Gavin Lloyd. I pick it up with a slight frown. What does he want?
“Gavin,” I say.
“Elliot. Is this good time?”
I settle back in my office chair. “Sure.” Tell me something blew up. Distract me.
“You might be right about the intern.”
That straightens me in my seat. “Oh?”
“Something doesn’t add up in the background check HR initially ran.”
I knew it. “Then why was he hired?”
Gavin snorts. “He’s been sleeping with the HR director’s assistant.”
I narrow my eyes. A liar and a user. The last sort of person I want around my money. “Well. Isn’t that…expedient.”
“Yup. I’m this close to firing her.”
“Why haven’t you?” Gavin isn’t the sentimental type.
“My wife.” He sighs. “She thinks the assistant might be being used.”
“Doesn’t seem to me like that’s your problem.”
“My thought as well. But…”
“Amandine’s too sweet to know any better.”
The small noise he makes says he agrees. “Don’t worry. You know me and keeping my enemies close. She won’t be getting away with this.”
I feel almost sorry for the assistant. Gavin can be…over the top at times.
“Amandine wants to meet your wife, by the way. Have you guys over for dinner.”
“Why?”
“Probably curious. Ryder, and now you? Something’s going on.”
“Oh jeez. We’re just settling down, no big deal.”
“Precisely. She wants to meet the woman who finally made you settle down. It’s one thing for Ryder, but you? Amandine was certain you’d die a bachelor.”
I snort a laugh. “It’s nothing. Really.” Just dangle a million dollars in front of a desperately poor young woman, and she’ll marry anyone, even an asshole like me.
“So, dinner?”
“Amandine shouldn’t.” I don’t know how my wife would react to a social event like this.
Gavin predictably ignores me, since his focus is on making his wife happy. “I’ll have Hilary send you a few possibilities.”
“She still works for you, huh?”
“Yes.” Gavin sounds aggravated. “Her husband is trying to get her to quit though.”
“Aren’t you guys best friends?”
“If he keeps it up, we won’t be.”
This time my laugh is genuine. “Bros before hos.”
Gavin snorts. “Don’t let Mark hear you say that or you’ll never eat in his restaurants again.”
We hang up. I swivel my chair and stare out the window at the city.
Actually, accepting Amandine’s invitation might not be such a bad idea. I remember how my wife didn’t have anyone to invite to our dinner. I doubt she’s had the time or mental energy to make friends in L.A. Amandine is a great woman and—more importantly—didn’t come from money. My wife might find that more approachable—a common point for both of them.
Maybe talking with Gavin’s rubbing off on me, but I want my wife to be happy.
Chapter Four
Annabelle
The Fourth Avenue Café where Elizabeth wants to meet is locally owned. The name doesn’t make any sense—the place isn’t on Fourth Avenue—but that doesn’t matter. According to online reviews, they serve good coffee and scones.
The interior is bright with recessed lights and sunshine coming in through glass walls. The dark ceiling fans create a lovely breeze, and the rich smell of brewing coffee permeates everything.
I grab a hot herbal tea and spot Elizabeth in a corner booth sipping coffee. She’s in a pink dress so pale it almost looks white. Her expertly applied makeup is nude, making her appear even more ethereal. She’s let her hair curl around her shoulders and cascade down her slim back. She’s such a natural beauty that I don’t
understand why she hasn’t become a model or an actress like her brother Ryder. Those cheekbones alone would bring her millions.
She waves. “Hey, you made it. Was traffic bad?”
“Not really,” I say, sitting across from her. I smile, hoping she can’t sense the tension from my meeting with Dennis less than half an hour ago. “I had to be downtown anyway.”
“Well, then. Perfect.” Her brown eyes warm. “You look good.”
“So do you.”
“I’m relieved.”
“Oh?”
“I was worried about you and your sister after Tiffany dumped champagne into the punch.” The corners of her mouth turn down. “None of us had any idea she’d do anything like that. If I had, I would’ve kept an eye on her.”
Elizabeth’s words stun me. It’s the last thing I expected her to say when she asked me to meet. “Oh. Well, um… Don’t worry about it. I was the hostess, so that should’ve been my job.” I think. I really don’t know much about high society protocol.
“But she’s our stepmother.” Elizabeth sighs. “Sorry. It’s a little embarrassing.”
“Please, don’t. I’m the one who owes you an apology.”
“For what?”
“The scene.” I flush. “I should’ve controlled myself better.”
“You absolutely did not overreact. I would’ve done exactly the same. Maybe worse.”
Her voice is so understanding, it almost brings tears to my eyes. “Thank you. I’m so relieved you feel that way.”
“Oh, it isn’t just me. You should’ve heard Ryder and Blake talking about it.”
The tight knot in my chest eases. I’m absurdly grateful for her kindness. No wonder Elliot is so sweet with her. You’d have to enjoy running over ducklings to be mean to someone like her. “I’m actually thinking about redoing the dinner.”
“Really?” She blinks. “Are you sure?”
“Well, yeah. I mean…” I clear my throat. “It’s a good way for us to get to know each other, right?”
“I see. Is this your idea or Elliot’s?”
“Mine. I haven’t talked to him about it.”
“Mmm. You know, you should do what makes you feel comfortable. Don’t try to act a certain way just for him or us. You guys could have the dinner at a restaurant rather than trying to do everything at home. All of us would be perfectly content with that.”
“I just thought…” I focus on the steam rising from my tea. “It was supposed to be sort of like a post-wedding reception because, you know…we never had a real, like, wedding wedding.”
“Right.”
I squirm. “And I wanted it to be perfect.”
“Of course.” Elizabeth reaches over and squeezes my hand. The gesture is gentle, yet so unexpected I almost flinch.
“If you like, I’d be happy to help you plan it,” she continues in that same soothing tone, the smile never leaving her face. “I forgot about your not having a proper ceremony.” She shakes her head slightly. “I’m sure this whole situation wasn’t like anything you imagined. Elliot can be a bit…obtuse sometimes, but he means well. He’ll do his best to be a good husband for as long as it lasts, Gigi.”
My skin crawls at the name. Maybe it’s seeing how hiding his identity has come back to bite Dennis in the butt, or maybe it’s because I’m feeling like a fraud. Elizabeth is so sincere that I can’t bring myself to let her go on, for her not to know who I really am. “Elizabeth…that’s not my name. It’s really Annabelle. Annabelle Key.”
“Oh. I thought… Did I mishear at La Mer?”
“No. It’s just…Elliot decided he’d rather call me Gigi.”
“He’d rather—? Lord in heaven, what is he thinking?”
I force a smile even as my eyes prickle. Sympathy pours out of her, and it only makes me tear up more despite my best effort to hold it back. Then something she said strikes me.
For as long as it lasts.
My head snaps up. “Wait. Did you know?”
Elizabeth’s expression is one of complete bafflement. “Annabelle, I have no idea why he would call you Gigi. The only Gigi we know is our previous gardener’s wife, and—sweet as she was—well…she wasn’t the sort of woman who inspired male admiration.”
“No,” I say. “About…Elliot’s and my marriage…” I can’t continue. What if Elizabeth merely meant that not all marriages last forever, given the statistics?
“Oh.” She looks away, then uncrosses and re-crosses her legs. “You mean the one year part? Yes. I know.”
Humiliation flushes my body. “So you know about the million dollars, too?”
Elizabeth gets a pensive frown on her face.
Oh my god. “Does everyone know?”
She turns toward me. “The family knows about the one year part.” She fidgets. “But whatever arrangement you and Elliot may have beyond that is your business.”
Arrangement. Elizabeth is as smooth as a politician and so nice it almost hurts…but she knew that there was money involved.
It’s too much. Tears start to roll down my cheeks, and I can’t stop them. It’s bad enough that Elliot and I are in a sham marriage where he’s giving me money for my body. It’s infinitely worse for everyone in his family to know. I lower my head, biting my lower lip so I don’t make any noise.
“Oh sweetie, don’t.” Elizabeth pushes a white handkerchief at me, but I don’t take it. “Please. Don’t cry. My brother is such an ass.”
“Why did Elliot want to have a dinner with the family, like it was some kind of real event…when you all know it’s not?” I wipe at the tears impatiently. My nose runs, and I need a tissue. “Were you planning to laugh at me behind my back?”
Her jaw slackens, her eyes wide. “Of course not! I’m sorry if I gave you that impression. All of—Annabelle, he has to marry for a year.”
“What?” There’s no way I heard that right.
“It’s complicated, but he has to do it in order to inherit something that’s very important to him.”
“I see.” Suddenly, the whole situation makes sense. No wonder he asked me to marry him in that ridiculously unromantic way. It didn’t matter who he married.
“Here.” Elizabeth offers the handkerchief again, and this time I accept it. Her initials are embroidered in one corner. “I’m sorry,” she continues. “I didn’t mean to cause you any distress. I thought you knew.”
I shake my head. “The only thing he told me is that he wanted to marry me for a year. He…offered money.” Talking about it makes me feel cheap. Like some plastic toy you can buy from a dollar store. Or a whore, like I told Elliot after the disastrous non-dinner.
“Well I would’ve taken it too, if I were in your situation. Especially with a younger sister to care for. There’s nothing wrong with what you’ve done.” She leans closer. “Everyone sneers at money, Annabelle…until they need it.”
“Thank you,” I whisper.
“Listen. I know it can’t be easy, and I admire your courage and selflessness. Nonny is so, so lucky to have you in her corner.” She pats my hand. “If you need someone to talk to, I’m here. I don’t ever want you to feel like you’re alone or that you’re somehow…less because of what circumstances have forced you into.”
Chapter Five
Annabelle
I drive down to Venice Beach, classic rock blaring to drown out my thoughts. Once there, I park and find a shady spot under a palm tree and turn off my phone. I need some time to try to sort out my thoughts after Elizabeth’s revelations.
It doesn’t work. No matter how I turn things over in my mind, I can’t come to any conclusions about anything. Not Elliot, not his family, not my situation or what the best path is going to be for me to take.
And my hormones aren’t making the job any easier. My period starts, prompting a dash into a local eatery to use their bathroom. I don’t know how I could have not noticed I was retaining water…among other things. Stomach cramps, the dull ache in my lower back. But I welcome the mino
r discomfort. It means I didn’t totally screw everything up when I was young, even though I never sought medical help with my unwanted pregnancy to make sure I was still okay. My period lasts for only four or five days, and the flow is generally on the light side, and I’m grateful. It means if I have the right guy and if we decide we want to, we can have children.
I feel drained physically and emotionally by the time I finally get in the car to drive home, but I inhale deeply and paste on a smile before slipping into the penthouse at a quarter till six. Nonny and Elliot are at the table, working on a set of algebra problems. His hair is damp, probably from a recent shower. Nonny’s in a bright pink v-neck shirt and loose shorts. Her hair rests on top of her head in a messy bun with a pencil stuck through it. She taps her mouth with the eraser end of another pencil as she scowls at the numbers.
Meanwhile Elliot is in a light gray cotton tee that clings to all the right places—his lean, muscled pecs and tight abs. The lounging shorts show off his well-developed calves dusted with crisp dark hair. He raises his head as though he’s sensed me. Our gazes meet, and I feel my smile slipping. His broad shoulders look so comforting, a part of me just wants to go over and rest my head there for a moment.
But the things Elizabeth said come back to me, and I can’t. I’m beginning to realize that I crave him, but he doesn’t feel the same way about me. Not even close. He holds all the cards, and those cards have even more power now because I care and he doesn’t. The sweet, tender glimpses of him that I’ve seen are probably the things I’m imagining to make myself feel better about our…arrangement. I know how people are wired to focus on things that support what they want to believe. They even invent what isn’t there to reinforce their belief. It’s how my dad was able to do so much damage for so long.
Nonny waves. “Hi.” She yawns. “You’re back.”
Elliot gives me an unreadable look. “You were out for a while.”
“Had some errands to run.” I don’t want to talk about meeting Dennis or Elizabeth.