by J. C. Reed
My breath hitched, and suddenly I had the terrible vision of me choking on a shrimp and that he’d have to perform the Heimlich while everyone was watching, maybe even cheering for him. And then he’d save my life, and I’d owe him for all eternity.
For real.
“What did you say?” I had never felt so faint in my life.
He wiped his fingers on his napkin, then fished out his wallet to retrieve a business card, which he slid across the table toward me.
“I’m a lawyer, Laurie,” he said matter-of-factly.
“You’re a fucking lawyer?” I asked agog, staring at his card.
Of course, that made sense. If someone knew how to pull a stunt like he had while playing within the constraints of the law, then definitely someone who knew the law.
“Your lawyer.”
My heart skidded to a halt. He leaned forward, whispering, “Or how else do you think I was able to bail you out, all without a trial?”
He had a good point. All of a sudden, I could imagine him in there, asking for evidence, talking about my rights. Oh my god, he probably was really good at it.
Sexy as hell in his tailored suit and with those burning eyes.
A lawyer!
Who would have thought?
A man of the law. Someone to fight for justice. And he tricked me into marrying him.
For selfish reasons.
Without meaning to, I started to laugh, the onset of hysteria bubbling at the back of my throat.
“What’s so funny?” His voice was still calm, but carried the slightest hint of irritation.
“You, my fake, lying, husband, reading my rights as my lawyer and talking about the law and justice.”
“It also helped when I stated that we were newlyweds,” he said with a frown on his beautiful face as he watched me. “I also told them you got so wasted you didn’t know what you were doing.”
“Are you fucking kidding me, Chase?” I shook my head, my laugh dying in my throat. “Did you not hear a word I said? I don’t give a shit how you got me out.” Anger started to pour out of me in long, thick waves. “I can’t believe you’re a lawyer. A man of the law. Out of all professions, this one is about the most unsuitable you could have picked.”
I took a sip of my wine. Then a few more as a tear ran down my face. I wiped it away angrily.
“Laurie?” he said taken aback. “I know how this looks,” he said again for the umpteenth time of the day.
“No. Let’s not go there again.” I put the empty glass down, and then looked up to his face. “Let me sum it up, Chase. You planned all this?”
“Yes.” He nodded.
“And you learned all about sticking to the truth with an oath and all that shit?”
He closed his eyes and whispered, “Yes.”
“And you married me for real?”
“I think we’ve established that already.”
“For your own selfish reasons.”
He took his time with a reply. “Yes.”
“How do you lawyers call it?” I asked a little too forcefully. “It’s called fraud, Chase. It’s fucking against the law to marry someone based on ulterior motivations.”
He said nothing.
“You’ve just corrupted the law you should be believing in,” I said flatly. “It would make so much sense if you told me you were an assassin.”
He cocked an eyebrow. “Seriously, Laurie? You’re being dramatic.”
“Am I?” I prompted. “The whole situation is dramatic. It’s fucking ridiculous.” I threw the napkin on the table, fighting the urge to walk away and never see him again. “I’m leaving.”
His fingers curled around mine with enough pressure to keep me frozen in place. “Don’t.” I watched his grip on me. He followed my line of vision and loosened his grip a little. “Please,” he said softly.
“Okay.”
“It’s not as a bad as you make it out to be,” Chase said.
“It’s not?” I smiled bitterly. “You were there on that day the floor crashed.” My voice broke. “You hurt all those people. And you’re saying it’s not a big deal? How could you do that?”
His eyes widened as shock flashed across his face.
“Come on, Laurie. You know me.” He sounded genuinely upset. “I didn’t hurt anyone.”
“Chase, I saw the folder. I saw the evidence that you were involved.”
“I wasn’t responsible for it,” he said again, this time his tone was harsh and brisk—like a whiplash. “Look, I might be a liar, and I most certainly broke a few laws by marrying you for a reason, but I’m not a killer.”
“I saw the folder,” I repeated. “You knew when to meet me.”
“Yes.” He nodded.
“So,” I cut him off, the words evading me. “You were responsible for the fire.”
His eyes narrowed. “I see what would make you think that, but honestly, you’re way off the radar.”
“Am I?”
“Very.” He closed his eyes for a second, then opened them again as he inhaled deeply. “I’d never do something like that.”
“How do I know you’re telling me the truth?”
“Because that’s my work. I know those people.”
“How’s that your work?” I asked, confused.
“LiveInvent is a client. I come in at least once a week. I have business lunches with those people. We go out for drinks.”
My mouth went dry.
“You represent LiveInvent?” My voice came out too loud, and a few people turned their heads toward us. “Sorry,” I mouthed and cleared my throat.
“Yes,” Chase said, composed as usual.
“So…” I shook my head to make sense of it all. “You didn’t know I was coming in that day?”
“Actually, I did. That’s the thing, Laurie,” he said quietly. “In fact, I made sure you got that interview, and if that floor hadn’t collapsed, you would have been invited to attend a second interview, after which you would have gotten the job. But after what happened, you ignored all calls and invitations to attend another interview. What was I supposed to do to get to meet you, except befriend Jude on Facebook?”
He was right.
After the whole floor crashed, LiveInvent followed up with an email, another invitation to an interview, but I didn’t respond. They even called to tell me how much they wanted to meet me because they really believed I’d be suited for the job.
I ignored everything because I was scared.
Shock did that to someone.
“Why didn’t you come?” Chase asked, interested.
“The whole thing was too much,” I said honestly. “Being stuck in an elevator, with no hope of getting out, I was sure it was going to be my last day. I couldn’t go back to that place, not when I thought you were dead.” I shook my head grimly. “I thought I’d never see you again. I didn’t want to be reminded of you.”
“You thought I was dead?” he asked quietly.
I nodded silently.
“Remember that I told you everything would be okay?” I nodded again and he continued, “I promised myself that I’d do whatever it took to save you. Well, you’re alive.”
I don’t know why, but my eyes suddenly felt moist again. My throat choked up, and a tear trickled down my cheek.
I looked away, strangely emotional.
There were at least thirty people around us.
Why couldn’t Chase choose a less public place? To distract me, to calm myself, I grabbed a shrimp and bit into it. The salty flavor reached my taste buds, but it didn’t quite register in my brain.
“So, what are you? A chevalier? A hero?” I asked carefully, unsure what he wanted me to say.
“I would love to say that, but I’m not…as I’m sure you’ve noticed by now.” He began to pile food onto his plate, the motion easing some of the tension between us. “I’m really proud of myself that I once saved a woman’s life in an elevator. That’s about the grandest thing I’ve ever done in my life.�
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He was talking about me, no doubt about that. “You cannot make me feel guilty,” I said coldly. “It won’t change anything between us.”
“That wasn’t my intention,” Chase said just as coldly.
For a while we sat there in silence. Eventually, Chase began to eat. My stomach rumbled again, reminding me that it would be a pity to waste all that good food. I filled up my own plate and busied myself with my meal. At some point, a waitress appeared with our dessert consisting of two trays with ice cream and tantalizing pastries.
But I couldn’t touch them. And neither did Chase.
“Are you finished?” he asked.
I glanced up and met his gaze. His eyes were burning, and I realized with a shock, that it was sadness that I saw in them.
“Yes,” I mumbled.
“Then let’s go.”
Chapter 13
We’d been back in the limousine for only a few minutes, with neither of us speaking, and it already felt like a whole eternity had passed. I was sitting next to the fish tank, my head leaned back against the leather, Chase at the other end, a glass of bourbon in his hand. Neither of us dared to look at each other. Neither of us dared to talk. And I would be damned if I was the first one.
Finally, Chase moved to the bar. At first, I thought it was to refill his glass. Instead, he sat down next to me—far enough to give me privacy, close enough to make my heart race.
“Look, Laurie,” he started, rolling the glass between his hands. “I get you are pissed.”
I let out a laugh.
“I’m not pissed. I’m hurt. There’s a huge difference.” I paused as I prepared my words. “I thought you were different, Chase. When I married you and let you fuck me, I thought I knew you. I would never have guessed that all that time you were working on your little folder about me. You didn’t even tell me that we had already met a few months ago.”
“Fair enough.” He took a deep breath. “I’d been watching you for some time. Obviously, I couldn’t disclose that fact. Nor the fact that we met the day the floor crashed.”
I looked up and met his blue eyes. The way he said it, I was sure he didn’t even feel sorry. Heck, I wasn’t even sure he had any regrets.
Anger rose inside me.
“You hurt all those people.” My voice shook. I didn’t try to hide the disgust in my voice.
He shook his head. “No, I didn’t do that. That was pure coincidence.”
“Coincidence?” I let out another short laugh and leaned forward, eyeing him carefully. I had a hard time believing that one. “I don’t believe in coincidences. Only in patterns and habits.”
“How would you know that?” His question was cold, just like his gaze. “Do you know what fate has in store for you? Maybe it was destiny for me to meet you. I don’t see a pattern in anything about us.”
“What are you saying, Chase?”
“The answer’s simple,” he said. “I wanted to meet you. We arranged for you to attend an interview. On the day we were supposed to meet for the first time, I wanted to make sure that’d you nail the interview, so I got into that elevator with you. That day the floor crashed, and that was a coincidence.” He took a sip from his glass, taking his time before he continued. “I didn’t mean for that to happen, just like I didn’t plan to like you. There are no fixed patterns. Only plans and hope and coincidences, and a whole lot of mistakes that indicate something bigger than us is out here.”
Was I the mistake?
I had no idea, but a more important question hovered at the back of my mind.
“Who is ‘we’?” I asked.
He frowned. “What?”
“You said ‘we arranged it.’ Who’s that, Chase?”
“My brother and I.”
“That would be Kade?” My question sounded more like a statement. He nodded. “I thought you were an only child.”
“Well, you thought wrong.”
“Are you sure you’re related?” I replied. “You don’t look alike at all. Could be another one of your lies.”
“Not everything I told you is a lie, Laurie. I think I made myself clear on that one,” Chase reminded me softly. His hand moved toward me, and for a moment I thought he might touch me. That he didn’t sent a jolt of disappointment through me. “What I’m telling you right now is the truth.”
“I wouldn’t have it any other way,” I mumbled.
“My parents adopted Kade after I was born,” Chase said, ignoring my remark. “When they found out they couldn’t conceive, but wanted me to grow up with a brother.” He raised his eyebrows at my expression. “What? Is that really so hard to believe? You of all people should understand it. Clint adopted you when he married your mom.”
I frowned. “You know?”
“I did my research, Laurie,” he said dryly. “Obviously, I know.”
“It’s not the same thing.”
“Adopted is adopted. The circumstances don’t matter much.”
I stared at him in thought, undecided whether to believe him. “Talking about truth and all, did you send your brother to Acapulco to follow me?”
“No.” He shook his head. “I told you already that I had absolutely no idea he was here. He didn’t tell me.”
He looked so earnest, I had no doubt he was telling the truth—for a change. He also looked pissed, but I didn’t care. I crossed my arms over my chest and regarded him to see if his anger would manifest itself in some way. He didn’t vent, but then Chase never did, and that was scary.
It would have been easier to believe that he was a good actor rather than a lawyer. Mystery and fantasy were easier pills to swallow than reality. The thought that I might be falling for another one of his tricks turned my stomach to ice.
“I find it very hard to believe you,” I said at last. “There’s no way you can prove you’re not responsible for the fire.”
People did all sorts of things for money. He had already added deceit to his résumé, so why not arson?
His lips tightened, and the frown on his forehead deepened. He gave an exasperated, annoyed sigh. “My brother owns LiveInvent. You think he would have let me do that? Is that proof enough for you?”
My heart thudded in my chest. It shouldn’t really have been a surprise, and yet it was.
“Look, Laurie.” He leaned forward, misinterpreting my expression. “The building had some minor construction problems from the beginning. We were working with an engineer to solve the issues, and the renovation plans were awaiting approval. Everyone thought we had time. The whole thing was a ticking bomb.” He shook his head, his eyes dark and gloomy. “Trust me, no one wanted or anticipated that to happen. It just did. It cost Kade a lot of money, and it sure made things difficult for us to get close to you. It also pushed back our plans because we had more pressing issues to deal with.”
“What do you mean?”
“It kept the legal department busy for a while. That’s when I came up with the idea of befriending Jude.” He grabbed the bottle from the bar, filled another glass, then moved back to his seat. The space behind him was black, and I realized it was a partition that could be rolled down to speak to the driver.
For a few seconds, he sat here, the lights above us changing from violet to blue. When he spoke again, his voice was low and wary—as if every word spoken was well prepared. “The original plan was to interview, hire you, then work with you to build up trust,” he said. “You had all the qualifications anyway, so it would have worked out.”
“After which you wanted me to fall in love with you, and you would have proposed, right?” I asked.
He hesitated, the tip of his tongue flicking across his lips. “That was the plan, yes. Falling in love would have been a necessity.”
I let out a sarcastic laugh as another flash of pain rose inside me.
His words hurt, but what wounded me the most was that he was right. It was such a good plan. I had to give him that.
I would have fallen in love with him, just like an
y other woman out there. Given that I’d obsessed over a guy in a dark elevator, I would have probably jumped at the idea of dating him.
The truth was, it wasn’t hard to fall for Chase. He was sexy, confident, always knew what to say, available.
Too good to be true.
I knew that right from the beginning. I just didn’t listen to my intuition and the alarm bells ringing at the back of my mind.
If Chase were the light, I would be his moth, drawn to him even though I know I’ll get burned.
Even though I was already burning.
“So, it wouldn’t have made a difference if you met me then; the outcome would be the same,” I whispered.
“If you put it like that, yes,” he replied.
“You didn’t need months to make me trust you.” My voice quivered. “It took you what? Three weeks? You really did a fantastic job. Well done.” I clapped my hands to applaud him. “You should be proud of yourself.”
“Please don’t do that,” he said through gritted teeth.
I threw my hands up in the air. “What? I’m praising your talents. Or are you ashamed? Are you having regrets?” His mouth tightened again, and the nerve under his right eye began to twitch again. Nope. No regrets there. “Thought so,” I muttered.
My self-control surprised me, not least because inside I was breaking in places I didn’t know I existed.
I would leave Chase with my dignity intact.
That was the plan.
I lifted Chase’s half-full glass to my lips and, kicking off my shoes, I leaned back against the leather seat and took a generous sip.
The liquid burned its way down my throat.
If we had to have this conversation, I’d better get some alcohol in me. And fast.
“Why did you really marry me?” I asked casually as I took another sip. “I know it’s about money, but you don’t look like you need it. Besides, you know I don’t have any. And don’t tell me it’s because you want to help me. We both know that’s bullshit.”
“I thought you might ask that at some point,” he said again, avoiding my eyes. “It does involve your inheritance.”
“You said that already,” I said, infusing confidence I didn’t feel into my voice. “But you also said you weren’t interested in my money, and you know damn well I own nothing. So forgive me that I’m confused.”