Ruth and Lucas

by Jasmine Carter

  Ruth And Lucas

  Is this arranged marriage turning into something more?

  A clean, marriage of convenience romance by Jasmine Carter of BWWM Club.

  Ruth’s life and career are going great, except for one thing—her love life!

  After her fiancé dumps her, she finds herself at a friend’s wedding, jokingly asking a stranger to marry her!

  …Sure, a husband would look good for her image, but she never expected him to say yes!

  Luke’s billionaire parents refuse to give him control of their company unless he marries.

  So when the woman he just meets asks him to marry her, of course he takes advantage of it!

  Yet a life of matrimony is a lot different than they’d originally planned!

  And soon their marriage becomes much more than just a compromise.

  But as their feelings for each other grow, will they be able to trust each other?

  Or will jealousy get the better of them?

  Find out in this emotional, clean romance by Jasmine Carter of BWWM Club.

  Tip: Search BWWM Club on Amazon to see more of our great books.

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  Copyright © 2019 to Jasmine Carter and AfroRomanceBooks.com. No part of this book can be copied or distributed without written permission from the above copyright holders.

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

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  Chapter 1

  Ruth lifted her cup to her lips, appreciating the warmth in her hands. Michigan was in the grips of winter, inflicting its inhabitants with coughs and sniffles. I shouldn't complain, it could be worse. A woman sneezed next to her, spraying her with spit. The woman took no notice of her, walking past Ruth as she wiped her runny nose on her coat's sleeve.

  "Ugh, I lied. It could be worse."

  Fortunately for her, she had an abundance of hand sanitizer and wet wipes in her bag, two things that she'd used a lot during her current stay in Detroit. The city was nothing like Huntington Woods, and although she'd grown up in the city, the minute she'd had the opportunity to move to an upscale suburban area, she'd taken it. Ruth applied a large amount of sanitizer to her hands, grimacing at the strong alcohol smell.

  “Can't they come up with something that doesn't smell like I took a bath in spirits?”

  Rubbing it along her arms, she took a look around the restaurant, wondering why her client would want to meet in a fast-food chain. The smell of grease and deep fried food was not as appealing as it used to be, back when a hamburger and fries was a treat on her birthday. Ruth could remember the days when her father would pick her up on her birthday, taking her to her favorite diner to get the same thing she would have every year: bubblegum milkshake, a cheeseburger and fries, and a chocolate sundae with extra sprinkles. It was the only day that she would get to see her father, but by her twelfth birthday, he'd stopped coming. Mama would always say that he was out of town, or he was busy, and I would accept it. That's how much I loved him. Ruth recalled how she would wait for her birthday, believing that her big and strong Daddy would come and spoil her for a whole day. When he stopped coming, it took her five years before she found out the reason why, and it had been entirely by accident.

  Ruth shook the memory away. Those thoughts belonged in the past where she'd buried Ruth Matthews and created Veronica Beaumont, the successful interior designer. This was the identity she'd cultivated over the years, the woman that everyone knew and respected. Veronica was a far cry from Ruth; she was a strong black woman, a sophisticated socialite who had entered into the world of the rich and famous and rubbed shoulders with them. Veronica owned her own thriving business, was part of a group of friends that people admired and envied, and dressed to impress. Today, her crisp white suit, paired with a light blue silk blouse and a pair of open-toe heels, had turned many heads already. Ruth knew that she was a stunner, getting her hair done every week at a top-rated hair salon, a manicure and pedicure every ten days to avoid ghastly-looking chipped nail polish, and caring for her mocha-colored skin with expensive products that were exclusive to a select few beauty stores.

  “Nothing but the best for Veronica Beaumont.”

  If only her love life were as successful. George Chazelle was supposed to be the love of her life, or so she'd wanted to believe. Charming, handsome, successful, caring—he had ticked all of her boxes, even exceeding her expectations. It was the first time that she'd ever been swept off her feet by any man, and it had taken her by surprise. It took a year for him to propose, and what a proposal it was! George had rented an entire opera house, hired one of the best orchestras in America, filled the stage with an abundance of flowers he'd specially flown in, and presented her with a seven-course meal that had scintillated her tastebuds. He'd then gotten down on one knee and presented her with a ring that she hadn't exactly been keen on—a platinum ring with a huge round-shaped diamond in the middle. It was gaudy and not her style, but because it had come from him, she'd loved it.

  “I should have seen the signs before we got engaged, but I ignored them. It's my firm opinion that all women can tell when something is wrong, but they choose to ignore it, hoping that everything will be alright.”

  But it never is, is it? Look at what happened to her mother—she'd continued to hold onto a relationship that had no future, and because of that, Ruth had learned the very same thing. She'd hung onto her father for many years before she realized that he no longer wanted to be in her life, and she'd hung onto George, believing that he was as good as it got.

  “From mother to daughter, but it has to stop. I can't do this again.”

  They'd been engaged for nearly two years to the date, never setting a date because George had always claimed to be busy.

  She laughed. "Ha! Why did I take those excuses? I kept telling him that a wedding planner would take the pressure off of us and that he wouldn't have to do a thing, but he wouldn't listen."

  Of course he wouldn't listen, he didn't want to marry her!

  “No, he wanted to marry someone else, some bimbo called Tally Zietsman. A white woman at that!”

  Of course it would be a white woman, hadn't he been trying to turn her white? Ruth had often wondered why George always insisted on her having blonde hair, losing more weight, getting a boob job, and using skin lightening. She'd drawn the line at the boob job and skin lightening but had done everything else.

  "He didn't want just any white woman; he wanted a blonde bimbo."

  Ruth had nothing against white people, but what was up with these black men always going for white women? Were black women so undesirable? She was pretty, wasn't she? Many people had said so! Her mind took her back to the day she'd seen her father with a beautiful white woman walking to a park in Beverly Hills. A child had been on his shoulders, a pretty little girl who could have passed for white had she not discovered that the girl was the child her father shared with the woman. The child had probably been about four or
five at the time, the same amount of years he'd been away from her.

  “Seventeen years old, the year I finally grew up and stopped expecting Daddy to come walking through the front door.”

  Ruth had developed a complex about her looks, believing that her father didn't want her because she didn't look like the pretty little girl he'd carried on his shoulders. When she'd created Veronica Beaumont, it had been an attempt to leave behind the woman who had never felt good enough and replace her with a woman who was confident and in charge. Having George leave her for a white woman had brought up all of those feelings of not being good enough, and it had hurt her. It's not just about the woman being white; she could be Latina, Thai, or Japanese! It's the fact that I'm not good enough being who I am, that I have to be someone else just to be accepted. Being Veronica had worked in most areas of her life, but just not her love life. Would she ever find someone who would love her for her? Would someone be able to love Ruth Matthews? That's a billion dollar question! Maybe I should find a billionaire next and rub it in George's face. The guy was obsessed with making money, surrounding himself with rich people, and achieving his goal of becoming a billionaire. If he was to see her with a billionaire, it might make him feel a particular type of way.

  “Or not.”

  Ruth stuffed a chocolate chip cookie into her mouth, letting the sugary goodness sweeten her mood. Veronica would have never eaten the complimentary cookie that came with every hot drink, but Ruth was a different story.

  “I'll have to run an extra ten minutes on the treadmill just to make sure that this doesn't become a lifetime on the hips.”

  Veronica had a reputation to uphold, and a lot of that had to do with the way she looked and carried herself. No one wanted an overweight, sloppy, and uncultured woman coming into their homes. While Ruth had never been overweight, her sense of style and way of speaking hadn't been acceptable to her or the people she wanted to surround herself with.

  “Ms. Beaumont?”

  Ruth looked up, seeing a pretty young woman. She couldn't help but think that George would have loved a woman like her. Blonde, blue-eyed, petite with a generous chest—she was exactly his type. The woman shifted, moving her bag from her distended belly. Oh, she's pregnant.

  "Yes, I take it that you're Ms. Charity Brooks? Please, take a seat."

  The woman sat down, her smile bright and cheerful. Sheesh, she's perky. She's got to be around twenty-five, but not even I was that perky at her age. The woman is fresh and vibrant. Life certainly hasn't got a hold of her yet.

  “I am so happy to be working with you, Ms. Beaumont. It's been my goal to have my home designed by you, and while my husband won't let me touch the rest of the house, he has agreed to let me have the nursery done. That's why I just had to call you! Oh, I'm so excited!”

  Yes, I can see that. This overly cheerful act is going to become annoying real soon. Ruth didn't let those thoughts show up on her face. Instead, she plastered on her practiced professional smile, the one that she knew dazzled people and put them at ease with her.

  “Well, Ms. Brooks, I'm happy to work with you.”

  “Oh, please call me Charity! Ms. Brooks makes me sound so old! Can I call you Veronica? It's such a posh name.”

  “Yes, of course. Would you like something to drink? I've just had a golden latte.”

  The woman frowned. “Golden latte? Oh, I haven't heard of those.”

  I'll bet that you haven't heard of much, Charity Brooks. Ruth gave herself a mental slap. Stop being nasty! The woman has done nothing to you, her only sin is looking like the very type of woman that both your father and George left you for. Wasn't I just as ignorant when I was still Ruth Matthews?

  “It's an infusion of turmeric, cinnamon, coconut milk, and maple syrup. I find that it does my body some good.”

  “Really? Then I should get some as well! Oh, waiter!”

  Ruth winced as the woman's high voice carried throughout the diner. Everyone turned to look at them, their expressions unimpressed. Charity didn't seem to register that people were looking at her, she only continued to smile, waiting for their waiter to approach them. A waitress came to them wearing an ill-fitting uniform that had seen better days. The tired look on her face reminded her of her mother, how tired she would be after working a twelve-hour shift at a diner similar to this. Except hers had been less modest, attracting male customers to the seedy restaurant. The sacrifices you made for me, Mama, I wish that I could pay you back and give you everything that you could have possibly wanted or needed in this world. Why did you have to die so soon?

  “Yes, Ma'am?”

  “I want a skinny golden latte.”

  “Sorry, ma'am, we don't have skinny but regular.”

  Charity's face turned. "What kind of establishment is this? What's so difficult in making a skinny one?"

  Ruth didn't like the way the woman spoke to the waitress. It was on the tip of her tongue to snap at her, but that wouldn't do for her professional image.

  "Charity, you've got a growing baby in you, I think that a regular latte will be much better for you. Besides, everything in the latte is good for you—no dairy, no refined sugars..."

  Was maple syrup a refined sugar? I have absolutely no idea, but it's got to be better than regular sugar. The last thing she wanted was the woman to find out that she had something loaded with bad stuff.

  “Oh, I didn't think of that. Well, if Veronica Beaumont says that it's good, then it has to be.”

  If only I could roll my eyes. The waitress took Charity's order and left, her cheap perfume leaving a trail of alcohol behind her. Ruth took out her notebook and pen; she preferred the old method of taking notes to using her phone—it got her creative juices going.

  “So, Charity, what were you thinking for the nursery?”

  “Oh my gosh! I've got like so many ideas it's crazy! So, I wanted to include the whole safari look mixed with a carnival theme, okay? But I want the room to reflect sophistication, grandeur, and...and... royalty! Can you do that?”

  Is she kidding me? What does she think I am? A magician? Who on earth wants that many themes in one room? What am I thinking? The woman is sitting right in front of me! Ruth scribbled a few ideas on her notepad, giving herself some time to answer.

  “Well, that's quite a few ideas.”

  “Yeah, I know, right? Georgie thinks that I'm way over the top, but I just remind him that's who he fell in love with.”

  Her ears perked. “Georgie? Is that your husband?”

  Charity looked uncomfortable for just a second before covering it up with her megawatt smile.

  “Did I say Georgie? I meant to say Dougie! My mind is always running around—I even get my own husband's name wrong!”

  Something about this didn't sit right with Ruth. I never did see what the other woman looked like, I simply refused to. But now, maybe I should have.

  “Is that so? I'm sorry, but I didn't catch your husband's name?”

  Ruth saw the young woman twitch. “Name, oh, uh, Douglas Green.”

  Douglas Green? Wasn't that the name of a shoe or alcohol? I'm gonna check that out.

  “Alright, well, let's make these ideas work, shall we?”

  Quite a while later—two hours to be precise—Ruth was able to leave the diner. She had a headache from listening to the woman's yapping, and she didn't have any pain tablets in her bag.

  "You know, it's not fair. The woman is several years younger than me, but she's both married and has a baby on the way. The minute that people see me, they think of the jilted bride and ask me how I'm doing. It's like all my success suddenly flew out of the window to be replaced by a woman to be pitied."

  She jumped into her car, suddenly remembering that she had a wedding to attend this weekend.

  “Oh, goody.”

  *****

  Lucas could not stand weddings, especially when they reminded him of the marriage that he had to pull out of a hat. Why did Maureen have to get married now when their parents wer
e pressuring him to get married?

  “I can run the family business better unmarried than I would married, for goodness sake!”

  He could give more time to the business without the stress of having a wife nagging him or kids demanding his attention. However, they seemed to think that being married would somehow make him more responsible, have higher values, and all that sentimental crap. Business was logical, analytical, full of statistics, and some risk, it wasn't a place for emotions and sentiment. What could marriage teach him other than that your wife will take up a lot of your time and make you feel less than important if you don't live up to her expectations? Wasn't that the same with his parents? Do they want me to have the same miserable marriage they have?

  “No way, José.”

  Lucas was too scared even to look around because he knew that there were plenty of single women looking at him, all hoping that they would catch his eye. If you weren't trying to get me to the altar, I might have looked at you all, but at the rate you're going, a stare isn't going to happen. He looked to where his parents were sitting, their body language showing their lack of affection and communication. They had respect and duty, but that was as far as their relationship went. Lucas didn't want that for himself, he wanted to remain a bachelor who could go home every night knowing that there wasn't an annoying wife at home. Growing up with his parent's tension and polite coldness was enough to last him a lifetime, he wasn't about to take it into his private life, which was why their ultimatum made absolutely no sense at all.

  “How is it that they can force me to get married, but they seem to think that Louis' playboy lifestyle won't affect the business?”

  Louis was known as a party animal across the United States, living it up in every well-known club that ensured media coverage. His cousin wasn't happy unless he was in some weekly gossip magazine. If they gave him the reins of the company, he would run it to the ground in no time.

  "He'll skip work pretty much every day, use the company's money to fund his out-of-control parties, and simply walk away from it all when everything goes bust."