by Piper Knox
“I’m at your apartment complex and the doorman won’t let me in.”
I woke up with a start. “What are you doing here?” My apartment did not have a doorman, unless he had mistaken Larry the local homeless guy as one.
“Cake selection day, remember. I don’t have all day. Some of us have to work.”
I rolled my eyes. My mind was focused on the whole, “I’m at your apartment thing” to note his casual jab. How had he found me? “Who gave you my address?” No one he would know knew where I lived.
“Your father. Who cares about the details?”
Of course, that’s where he got it. I took a deep sigh of relief. I don’t know why it was important to me that Caiden didn’t know where I was staying, but it mattered. He would laugh so hard if he sees me coming out of a studio apartment the size of his bathroom.
“I no longer live there. Let’s meet at the place. I’ll be there in a few minutes.” He muttered something, and the line went dead. Rude.
I checked the time. Getting there from where I was currently living would take about twenty minutes if I take the subway—that’s if I was lucky to get there as the train arrived—or I could use a ride-sharing app which would take half the time and treble the fee. I checked my bank balance. There was a few hundred dollars in my account. Damn, this whole ‘doing it myself’ business wasn’t paying off. The charity I worked for paid little money, we hardly had any considering it wasn’t as popular as some other charities and it was somewhat new. I turned out to be a shitty fundraiser since most of my contacts had either cut me out or ignored me. My boss had me working as something of an intern, doing most of the odd jobs, after my dismal showing Seems like scandals don’t do so well for an heiress who wants to be taken seriously and doesn’t want to be the lead in a reality show.
I made quick work of bathing, getting into a fresh pair of clothes, and rushing out of my apartment. “Hi Larry,” I said to the man who opened the door for me.
“Good morning, Miss Hailey,” he said, smiling and saluting. I made a mental note to bring him some cake when I return.
◆◆◆
“You’re late.” He said as soon as I came. It was an upscale Manhattan shop with interior furnishings ripped straight from a nineteenth century French cake shop. He wasn’t wrong, I was late. Traffic had been rough and had doubled my estimated time.
“Good morning to you too. Hi Shelly.” She was startled at the greeting.
Shelly was looking sleek in a tight hair ponytail and long dress. There was a giant table book lying between them on the sofa. She lifted it and moved aside to give me space. The woman opposite them, who I assumed was the patisserie looked at me in recognition, but said nothing. Her eyes kept wondering toward me throughout the entire thing. I had gotten used to the casual recognition from people who were too embarrassed to admit they follow gossip blogs. At the center was a French styled table with plates of an assortment of cakes.
“You had already started?” I asked when I sat down. My leg brushed his, and I didn’t fail to notice the electricity that buzzed when I did so. I hated that he still could elicit a reaction from me without even moving.
“We were waiting for you.” His response was chilly and lacked any affection. He sat rigid like a statue and stared at me with daggers in his eyes. “How dare I hold him up?” those cold eyes said.
“But not for long,” the wedding planner sang trying to distill the tension.
We tasted the cakes. They were all heavenly. The patisserie knew what she was doing. I asked to take a few samples home, a request that garnered a stare from Caiden. The apple and vanilla one was the best of all. For the design, I chose a nine-tier white pearl cake with gold floral accents. Only because it was the most expensive. That’s what he wanted, right? When he saw my choice, because Caiden had done nothing but take calls and text the entire time, he simply shrugged and paid the deposit. He seemed uninterested, even though he insisted to be involved every time.
“Why are you here?” I asked him when we were out of the shop. I had a box filled with samples in my hand.
He directed me to his town car, “What do you mean?”
“Here.” I said, waving at the cake shop behind us, “Isn’t it all supposed to be a business deal for you.”
He strolled to the car where the chauffeur was waiting for us with the door open. We both got in, “What’s wrong with a husband wanting to make sure his future wife gets the biggest wedding of the year?”
“Liar.”
“Fine. You got me. I want to make sure you don’t waste my money. Is that what you want to hear?”
I chuckled. If only he knew how much I hated spending his money, “I’m glad you’re here to rein me in. Otherwise I would have bought the entire shop.”
“Sarcasm suits you very well.”
I rolled my eyes and turned my attention outside.
“Where are you going after this? A lunch I need to drop you off to?”
“I have to—” I was about to tell him to go to work, but I figured he wouldn’t believe me. There was also a part of me that didn’t want him to know what I did for a living. Let him think I was a party girl. It would make things so much easier. Plus, I knew he had an ulterior motive to this sham marriage. His ultimate goal was to destroy us. Me especially. I would not give him another weapon he could later use against me. “You can drop me off at the coffee shop over there.” It was closer to where I worked, about six blocks close, and I was fine with walking.
He peered outside the window. “Meeting someone?”
“What’s it to you?” The car stopped, and I was about to get out when he shifted in his seat, grabbed my wrist, and drew me to him. The box in my lap almost fell as it tilted on my knees, “If you’re dating someone else, cut it off.”
“Why do you care?”
“We’re engaged. I don’t want some gossip rag making a fool out of me.”
I twisted in his grip such that barely an inch separated us. We were so close we could almost kiss. Will we kiss at the wedding? Would he be a good kisser? The thought rang like a bell as images of him and making out in this car flashed in my head.
“What about you?” I said, “Will you stick to the same deal or will you be sleeping with every model in town?”
He flinched.
“I read the papers too.” The car went quiet. I could hear my heartbeat accelerate. I became aware of him, his cologne that had been teasing my senses ever since the cake shop, his lips that I now had a sudden urge to taste.
“I’m not currently dating anyone,” his sooty eyelashes fluttered as his gaze went from my eyes to my lips, “And the same should go for you as well,” he said. I could feel My throat constrict. I made a move to let go, but he drew me further into him such that our hips touched, “throughout the duration of our wedding at least.”
I tried to sound like the cool sophisticated socialite he thought I was. “I can work with that.”
“Good.”
My throat dried up as I stared into his gaze, my breath getting slower and slower. I cleared my throat.
“Can you let me go now,” my voice was a small whisper. He leaned back, my wrist still in his hand. He fished something from his pocket. A little black velvet box and opened it. In it was an exquisite emerald and diamond encrusted ring. It was beautiful and tasteful. Not too flashy, but also looked like it cost a fortune. He slid it down my ring finger. I gasped at his fingers grazing mine.
“I had forgotten that you needed it if we were to pretend we had been dating.”
I mouthed a small, “Oh,” as its beauty rendered me silent. His nostrils flared as his gaze went back to mine and when he leaned in, I was so sure he would kiss me.
“I hope it’s to your standard?”
He sounded as if he was unsure if I would like it? As if he was insecure about his decision. No. It was probably another dig at my supposed expensive habits.
“It’s fine.” It was gorgeous, “Adequate for the occasion.”
/>
He dropped my hand like a hot potato, “Of course,” he said, turning to face the front. He was back to being cold again.
4
When the wedding day finally arrived, I was almost feeling sick. The affair was exactly what my father and apparently Caiden wanted. It was the Socialite wedding of the year, as they say with all the other big socialite weddings. Anyone who was anyone within the luxury goods industry was invited, including a few celebrities and some minor royals.
And to my father’s credit, it was working. The news surrounding the Lyndell corporation was no longer about its troubles, the labor issues, the embezzlement and all the other scandals. The press focused on the wedding and they were calling it a ‘merger’ which was kind of funny considering my situation. He was beaming when he led me down the aisle.
“Finally,” he said to me in hushed tones as we strolled with my hand in his, “you’re acting like my daughter.” I wanted to punch him right then. His grip on my arm was so tight, I thought it would tear the threads of my dress. “You’re squeezing me,” I gritted out. He acted like he didn’t hear me. I stiffened my back and looked straight forward at the groom. Caiden looked like the perfect husband in his tuxedo. It defined and enhanced his statuesque figure. If this was real, I would feel so happy that I was about to marry such a man.
He frowned as I got closer. It baffled me, and I frowned in response to his frowning. I followed his gaze and saw that it was pinned on where dad was holding me.
When my Dad handed me over to him, Caiden took hold of my arms and rubbed them, concentrating on the part Dad had been gripping me. I might be mistaken, but he seemed… concerned? I brushed away that foolish thought. There’s no way he would care about my wellbeing.
The ceremony began, we exchanged vows, and in no time, we were husband and wife. His kiss was perfunctory and functional, yet it made me feel gooey and warm inside and reminded me of the last time we kissed. When I looked into his eyes after we broke off, there was a slight smirk on his lips that doused any further development of anything else beyond that. The jerk was satisfied with himself.
◆◆◆
The reception was a nightmare. Greyson and Bryce were both drunk and had insisted on making unnecessary speeches, most of which were about how the family business was going to be back on top now that ‘things were looking up’ and how Caiden should be thankful that they had taken him into our family considering his background. You would think they weren’t the ones who were selling off their sister.
Caiden was doing his best to ignore me, so I was left to my own devices. I took out my phone and went straight to my favorite social media app. Bad idea. I was trending. And not in a good way. One hashtag, “#TrashyHeiressGetsHitched” was trending more than the others, and attached to it was an old video of me. It was an infamous one, and had trended for days when it first surfaced on the Internet. It was a clip of me drunk, dancing and then tumbling into a thousand-year-old vase. That was only half bad. The context was worse. It was at the home of a Japanese diplomat and the entire episode was an international incident when it happened a few years ago. I had to apologize to the entire nation of Japan for disrespecting their culture.
My cheeks burned at the thought of everyone seeing this. I look up to the crowd. Everyone had that knowing judgmental look plastered on their faces. Thirty-year-old me was still paying for twenty-one-year-old me’s sins. I was in the middle of doom scrolling when my phone was snatched out of my hands. It was Alicia. We had only known each other for a few months, but we had become good friends and close enough for me to ask her to be my maid-of-honor.
“It’s your wedding day. Get off social media and be happy.”
“I’m happy.”
“No, you’re not, and this,” she waved the phone, “is making you crazy.” She was right. I hate how she knew me better than anyone. “As your maid-of-honor,” she continued, “It’s my duty to make sure you’re happy. And that starts with confiscating this phone.” She took it and put it in a tiny purse I hadn’t noticed she had.
“Alicia!”
She leaned down and whispered, “Your hunky husband desperately needs your attention.” I followed her gaze and saw Caiden standing behind us.
Alicia thought I was in love with him. I wasn’t going to dissuade her from thinking that. Her knowing the truth would be more embarrassing for me and I didn’t need the pitiful looks I knew she would give me if she knew.
When he extended his hand and said, “I believe it’s our dance,” Alicia cooed and nudged me forward.
I took it as he led me to the dance floor. His other hand went around my waist and he held me firm against him. The music played, and he stepped forward, and I stepped back as we smoothly danced the waltz. He felt close. Too close for comfort. I could feel his hard chest against mine as his scent enveloped me. It was intoxicating. I hadn’t been this close to him since—
“You seem lost in your own world.”
“I’m not.” I felt exposed. “I was thinking how I couldn’t wait for this dance to be over.”
“Is that why you’re blushing?”
My gaze went from his chest to locking with his. His eyes were glittering with amusement.
“I wasn’t blushing,” I said, “It’s hot in here.”
“Is it? Or is it hot here? Right now?” his innuendo-laced words were backed up by him pulling me closer to him.
I let out the most convincing laugh I could master. “If you think I was blushing because of you, then you seriously overestimate yourself, sir. There’s nothing on you I would want.”
“Is that so?”
“I’m perfectly sure that you couldn’t satisfy me even if you tried.”
He leaned into my ear and whispered, “Give me you and an empty room, and I’m sure we can debunk that theory in thirty seconds.”
It was his turn to laugh at my wide-eyed expression.
“There’s more that I can do now, Hailey. I’m no longer the bumbling teenager you used to know,”
“Is that why you married me. To get into my pants? It’s a little too much, don’t you think?”
“You know why I married you. And if you don’t, you’ll know soon enough.”
I tried to think of something to change the subject, but nothing came to mind.
“Your father,” Caiden said, “I saw the less than enthusiastic way you were walking down the aisle. The man was practically dragging you.”
His perceptiveness shocked me. “You’re mistaken. I was having trouble walking in the dress, that’s all.”
He lifted the sleeve of my dress, “Is that why you have bruises on your arm.”
I brushed away his hand, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
He stiffened. I glanced back at him. Whatever emotion he had for me was gone. “Suit yourself.”
As soon as the dance ended, I made my way out of the ballroom. I needed some time alone without him next to me, making me feel a jumble of emotions I didn’t want to feel.
His friends were making it clear that they were here for Caiden and not me. Most of them I knew from high school, and they made the fact that they hated me plain as day. How could they not, I had bullied most of them after all? Even though some of them had taken part in the bullying themselves. So, you can forgive me, if I wanted some time alone.
Before I could make it anywhere without a mass of people, I bumped into my boss. Her face was flushed, she was swaying and had a wide smile on her face. She wasn’t supposed to be here, but when she saw news of the wedding in the papers and asked for an invite, I couldn’t say no.
“This wedding is fantastic!” she said as she threw a hand on my shoulder.
“Thank you, Rachel.”
“And your husband. Gorgeous. Does he have brothers?”
I felt a twinge of guilt.
“I’m just kidding! Anyway,” she said looking over my shoulder, “what do you think about me approaching your husband? You know, make some connections, tell him about
our charity? Will it be too crass or should I wait?”
The last people I wanted to talking to each other were Caiden and drunk Rachel.
“You don’t have to. I’ve already spoken to him.”
She beamed
“He’s pledged some money. It’ll be coming to us soon.”
She slapped my shoulder. “Didn't I say your husband is gorgeous?”
I gave her my best smile and excused myself wondering what I had gotten myself into.
I made it to the restroom and shut myself into a stall. I was glad to get away from it all for a few minutes. But it wasn’t long enough when I heard people coming in.