Slay

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Slay Page 13

by Laurelin Paige


  With his palm pressed at the small of my back, Edward led us down the hallway toward the formal dining room pointing out the floor plan as we walked. “The staircase, of course. There’s the lift. Both go to the lower ground floor as well as all the way to the top. Behind the stairs is the water closet. To the left is the kitchen—the one we use on a daily basis. The catering kitchen is downstairs. Farther down the hall is the salon. And here we are.”

  He dropped his hand, but I could still feel it there, as though he’d branded it into my skin. It made me dizzy, even when he was no longer touching me. That was how powerful his affect was on me. It lingered. It permeated the membranes of my cells. Got into my bloodstream. Altered my DNA.

  I surveyed the room we’d entered. The traditional design had been continued in here in the two crystal chandeliers that hung from the patterned tray ceiling and the elegant dark wood table with intricate apron details and lion claw feet. There was room for twelve fabric padded chairs with cabriole legs, five on each side and one at each head, but only four place settings had been laid out.

  Edward moved to the setting at the far head. “You’ll sit here to my left, darling. Genny, you can sit by your brother this evening.”

  My knees buckled at the term of endearment, even though I knew it was likely for show. I was grateful it was only a few steps to my seat. The butler who’d greeted me when I arrived pulled out my chair for me to sit. I assumed he was Gavin, but later was informed his name was Jeremy. Gavin was the personal chef. I’d planned for an intimate dinner, but the level of staff on hand made me feel a little underdressed.

  Edward, though, had worn casual, I reminded myself. He apparently liked a formal routine with or without the formal attire.

  The next several minutes were spent settling in. Jeremy filled our wine glasses then set out our first course, a blueberry poached pear salad with candied walnuts. He’d barely had time to walk away after setting down the last plate before the inquisition resumed.

  “If you’re getting married, where’s the ring?” Genevieve’s sour expression, along with her tone, said she wasn’t ready to accept the news of our engagement.

  Without being told so, I had a feeling I was expected to help change her mind.

  Here goes nothing.

  I put on a friendly smile, one I’d carefully practiced for just such occasions. “We haven’t picked one out yet.”

  “I have it,” Edward said in contradiction. “I wanted Celia to be sure about us before she put it on.” He gazed in my direction as he took my hand in his, the one with the missing ring, and squeezed.

  Oh, he was smooth. Real smooth.

  And a good liar. I was sure he didn’t really have a ring since this was the first I was hearing about it.

  Genny wasn’t so easily wooed. “And you’re sure now? Because we haven’t even heard of you before tonight. You can’t blame us for thinking this is rather sudden.”

  Though she included her brother in the use of her plural pronouns, Hagan’s congenial expression suggested he wasn’t as suspicious as she was.

  Ugh. I hadn’t been prepared to deal with the frank grilling of protective offspring.

  “I understand,” I said, trying to imagine the scenario from her viewpoint. “I can’t speak to your father’s reasons for not sharing our romantic involvement with you both, but I can assume he didn’t want to say anything until I had given him a definite answer. And I have now. And, yes, I am sure.”

  She didn’t seem convinced, but before I had to endure another hostile round of interrogation from her, Hagan intervened. “Lay off her, Gen. We haven’t even heard yet how they met. It was in New York, yeah?”

  I glanced at Edward to see if he might take this one. Frankly, I would have loved to hear what he would have said.

  He turned in his seat, fixing his gaze on me. “Why don’t you tell them that story, darling?”

  He was a cruel man, casually using that darling in that British dialect of his like it wasn’t a weapon of mass destruction.

  The sweep of his thumb along my knuckle wasn’t helping my train of thought. “Okay. Sure.” I sounded flustered. This wasn’t going to cut it.

  I could do better. I had this.

  Gently, I pulled my hand out from his, which cleared my head immensely. As close to the truth as possible. “I’ve known about your father for years, obviously. His reputation proceeds him, but also I’d heard about him because my own father is in the media business.”

  Genny perked at this. “What did you say your last name was again?”

  “Werner.” I waited for her to comment again. When she didn’t, I went on. “So, anyway. I’m not personally in the media business. I run an interior design company, and your father asked me to meet with him to discuss redesigning his office.”

  “Your office here?” Hagan directed this question to his father.

  “Mm.” Edward nodded, his eyes never leaving me.

  “Thank God,” Genny said. “That office is in bad need of a redo. It’s abrasive and overly masculine and not at all welcoming to the female gender.”

  Under different circumstances, I had a feeling Genevieve and I might have gotten along splendidly.

  Hagan shrugged. “It’s not that bad. I sort of like it.”

  “You would,” Genny muttered. She brought her focus to me, her eyes softer than they’d been before. “Was Dad as terrible to work with as I imagine he is?”

  “He is,” I said smugly. Honestly. “Within five minutes, I’d decided he was an incredible self-centered ass.” I peered back at my husband-to-be and was surprised to see I’d amused him.

  I liked that. Liked amusing him.

  Liked it too much.

  “Now, now, confession here.” Finally Edward was stepping in. “I didn’t really care about her silly office design ideas.”

  “Dad!” Genny gasped.

  He put up a hand to shush her. “I don’t really need my office redesigned. It was an excuse. I’d seen Celia at a charity ball, from a distance, and there was no way I could go without seeing her again. Hiring her was an opportunity to spend more time with her.”

  The ball was a nice touch, and then I remembered I really had attended a charity ball in the weeks before meeting him. “The Building Futures event?”

  He nodded slightly, as if not quite sure he wanted to give himself away.

  “Oh. I didn’t know.” I hadn’t seen him there.

  “Her hair was in this soft twist and she was wearing a slinky red gown with a slit up one side and these sheer panels up here and here.” He gestured to his neck and then the sides of his torso. “She was absolutely breathtaking.”

  He was absolutely breathtaking. As in I couldn’t currently breathe. He’d definitely seen me. How had I not noticed him?

  “So, as I said,” he continued, his hand finding mine again. “I made up an excuse to hire her, and, after I convinced her that I wasn’t the complete ass she thought I was—”

  I interjected. “Oh, no, I still think you’re a complete ass.”

  “—after I convinced her that I had some good qualities despite being an ass,” he corrected, “she agreed to go out with me. We were inseparable after that.”

  “Then why didn’t you tell us about her?” Genny demanded, and now that the question was specifically directed toward her father, I didn’t have to be the one to answer.

  “Like Celia said, I wanted to wait until she’d made up her mind about me.” His face turned serious. “It was terribly difficult to part with her when my business was over and it was time to come home, but I didn’t want to push her. I’d asked her to marry me, because I already knew I wanted to spend the rest of my life with her, but I was asking a lot, expecting her to give up everything she had in New York to come live with me in my house. To fit in with my family. I knew she needed time to think about it, and I also knew if I told you both, I’d only get my hopes up.”

  He brought my hand to his mouth and kissed the inside of my wrist. �
�I’m so very glad that you changed your mind.”

  Warmth rushed up my torso, expanding through my chest and into my ribs. It was all a story, yes. I knew that’s what it was. That it was all a fabricated lie. That he hadn’t really meant any of the wonderful things he’d said about me. About us.

  But there was a camaraderie about the whole thing. A sense of having someone on the same side that I hadn’t had since I used to play with Hudson. We’d done this together too—made up stories. Pretended our lives were tangled in ways that they weren’t, and that had been fun and exciting and amusing.

  This charade with Edward felt like that. Like we were working together for a common end, and we were, actually. For once the goal wasn’t to destroy someone else in the process, and I was surprised to find that missing element didn’t diminish the experience.

  Except, I was setting out to destroy someone in the process. I was planning to destroy Edward. I couldn’t let myself forget that.

  Whether or not Genny was satisfied with our ruse, Hagan was, and he turned conversation to his intern position he was doing at Accelecom in his spare time and then to a project he was involved with at school. Before the end of the meal, I’d learned he was graduating from university in the spring and planned to go work with his dad full-time after that and that I was closer to his age than Edward’s, but just barely.

  Genevieve was also at university and seemed also to be following in her father’s footsteps, much to his chagrin. He insisted it was a terrible pathway for a girl, and wouldn’t she be happier getting married and being a socialite?

  I barely refrained from kicking him under the table for his sexist attitude. I had a feeling it came from a place of love. My father had encouraged me in the same way when I’d been younger, because he wanted me taken care of, not because he didn’t think I was capable. And as much as he ignored me or overlooked me, he had always supported my decision to open a business on my own. Hopefully Edward would come to that place with Genny as well, eventually.

  When the meal was over, Edward invited both his children to join us in the salon for an after-dinner drink.

  “I can’t, Dad,” Genny said. “I really have to get back to studies. I have a full load this term, and there’s lots of reading.” She turned to her brother. “If you can’t take me home, I can call for a ride.”

  “I’ll send you in my car,” Edward said, looking aghast at the mention of his daughter in an Uber.

  Hagan shook his head. “You’ll do neither. I can take you. I can’t stay either. I’m meeting someone in a bit.”

  Edward checked his watch. “At this time of night?”

  “It’s still early, Dad.” The way he looked away when he said it told me exactly what kind of meeting he was escaping for.

  “Very well. Before you leave, though. I need you to sign that proposal. It’s up on my desk. I’ll show you.”

  Edward and Hagan disappeared up the stairs, leaving Genny and me alone. We walked together to the receiving room to wait in thick silence. I had no idea if I’d won her over or not, but if the tension between us was any indication, I was betting the answer was no.

  As soon as we’d made it to the front room, my impression was validated. “I know who you are,” she said accusingly. “I know why he’s really marrying you.”

  My stomach dropped, but I kept my head high. Edward had never said his children had to be kept in the dark. Maybe it was even better if they knew.

  Or maybe that just complicated matters.

  I wasn’t ready to make a decision about it, so I decided to put the ball back in her court. “And what reason is that?”

  “Because you’re a Werner. Everyone knows how badly my father wants in with your father’s company. I’d never thought he would go to these sorts of means, though.”

  “You sound as if that bothers you.”

  She sighed, running a hand through her long brown hair. “I suppose it shouldn’t. It’s what he wants, it’s what you want. You’re both adults. I’m assuming it’s mutually beneficial.”

  “But…?”

  She met my eyes. “But he was completely heartbroken when my mother left him. In some ways, it destroyed him. He’s not the man he was before their divorce, and I guess I thought…” She lowered her gaze to the floor. “I’d hoped that he’d find that again. I’d hoped he could be happy like that with someone new.”

  Her tone was sad, and sad tones had never had much effect on me.

  And yet, I wanted to give her a different story. Because I liked her, maybe. Because I could relate to her, being the daughter of a successful man like she was. Men who didn’t give their daughters enough credit or time or attention.

  Or because I wanted another story to be true, one different than the one we were living.

  Or maybe it was because I simply wanted to see if I could convince her of something else. For the challenge of it.

  I couldn’t explain my reasons, but the urge was strong to correct her, so I did. “You’re right,” I said. “You’re right that this started purely as a business decision. Edward wanted access to my father’s company and I wanted his money and that was all. But that’s not the case anymore. It evolved. I’ve never met someone like Edward. He challenges me. He gives me something that I didn’t think I would ever have. He makes me feel things I thought were impossible to feel. He makes me look at the future as a possibility instead of more of the same old thing.”

  I stopped, stunned by how effortlessly the story had fallen from my lips. As though it were more honest than I’d realized. Honest stories always came the easiest.

  “Anyway,” I said, remembering that I had an audience. “My decision to marry your father is based on that, not on any mutually beneficial deal. Of course I can’t speak for him, but I think…” What did I think? “Just don’t give up on him finding happiness because of how we found each other. Your father and I are full of surprises.”

  She studied me for long seconds before gifting me the first genuine smile I’d seen from her all night. “Thank you for that. I don’t know what to think right now, and I don’t know how I feel about you, but I’m rooting for him. I hope he surprises me.”

  I sort of hoped he did too.

  No, I didn’t. I didn’t want to be surprised. I wanted to know exactly where this was going. I wanted it to follow my predictions. I wanted to play Edward the way I’d played so many others and then get out and walk away, untouched as always.

  But after Edward and his son had returned, and after we’d said goodbye to the kids and sent them on their way, when we were alone again, just the two of us, the tension I felt strung out between us wasn’t the kind of tension that came from the thrill of The Game. It was darker and more taut, yet not too taut. Like it could keep pulling or it could break entirely and the not knowing which would happen made my skin feel prickly and hot and made me feel like I wanted to cry.

  With his back against the front door, Edward looked me over, his gaze sweeping up my body with slow intensity, as though he were seeing me for the first time that evening.

  Goosebumps broke out along my arms and the space between my legs began to throb.

  “Nice work in there tonight,” he said, his voice low. “With them. It was impressive.”

  “Thank you.” I could feel the blush run up my chest and cheeks. It was the first time I ever remembered him complimenting me, and I hated that I cared, but I did. I cared. I wanted him to compliment me again and again.

  His eyes grew dark and hooded and the tension pulled tighter between us. “There’s a lot going on here, I can tell,” he said, and I practically sobbed from relief that he was addressing it. “So let’s go upstairs and sort it out, shall we?

  I didn’t hesitate for one second before giving him the only answer I could. “Yes, please.”

  Twenty-One

  “It seems strange to be discussing our prenup when I’m still not wearing a ring.” If I sounded bitter, it was because I was. When Edward had suggested we go upstair
s, I’d naively thought he meant his bedroom. I’d certainly been on that page. The energy around us was so fraught and charged, I’d assumed he was there with me.

  Instead, “upstairs” had meant up one flight to his den and “sorting it out” seemed to be completely administrative.

  The paperwork was necessary for the marriage, I supposed. It was also boring. I didn’t want his money. I wanted to ruin him.

  I wanted him to ruin me, too. In a completely different way.

  I glanced at the document in front of me, then at the still bare ring finger of my left hand.

  “You’re awfully anxious about that, aren’t you?” Edward asked from the other side of the oversized mahogany desk. The formal setup made the whole thing even more tedious.

  “What can I say, I like jewelry.” A subject I found much more intriguing. I’d even taken the liberty of doing some of my own preliminary engagement ring browsing while I’d been sequestered in my hotel. “I can give you some ideas of what I like and what looks—”

  He cut me off brusquely. “I don’t need them.”

  “Oh. Okay.” Back to tedium then.

  Pretending to care about the prenuptial agreement, I picked it up and skimmed it halfheartedly. I could feel his eyes on me, which made the idea of actually reading even more preposterous. His gaze was too distracting. He was too distracting.

  “Do you have any questions?” he asked after I’d flipped through several pages.

  I couldn’t remember a word of what I’d just read. Frankly, I was still thinking about the upstairs I’d believed he’d eluded to. If this level was devoted to his den and home office, where was his bedroom? The next floor? The top?

  Then I did have a question for him. A valid one, I thought, considering it mostly concerned my agenda, not his. “You’ll want me to live here with you, I assume. How exactly will that work as far as sleeping arrangements? Your children seem to believe we’re going to have a real marriage. I’m not sure what your sister thinks or what you want her to think, but I’m imagining you’ll want the ruse to be kept with everyone else. It will be hard to keep up that pretense if we’re in separate bedrooms.”

 

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