by Jeannie Moon
***
“Molly, come here and let me do your hair.”
Jason was due at the house in ten minutes, and she’d just gotten Molly out of her post–soccer practice bath. Of course, the little girl wasn’t interested in doing anything but chasing the cat.
And Moe Kitty wasn’t interested in being caught.
“Why doesn’t Moe want to be friends?” Molly asked, shuffling into the room.
Meg wanted to tell her it was because cats were assholes, kind of like men. They were cute and warm and would cuddle, but they did it on their terms. If they wanted to be left alone, they’d run like hell.
“Sit still for a second while I braid your hair. Your uncle will be here soon.”
Meg started working Molly’s long dark hair into a pretty French braid. She was fidgeting, and every noise had the child craning her neck for the cat, but eventually Meg secured the elastic and let her young charge go cat hunting again.
In the eight months that Molly had been living here, Meg had learned a lot. Mostly that her very predictable life was no longer predictable. She was at the mercy of another person, and it required more than a little patience, especially since Molly was going through some major adjustments. Not that Meg would do anything differently. Taking care of Grace’s daughter was a gift, a way to keep her friend with her forever.
Meg walked to the kitchen and got herself a glass of water and listened to Molly sing along with one of her favorite videos. Jason was going to be here in a few minutes, and then she’d have to face yet another change in her life.
There had to be another way. Marrying seemed extreme, but part of her, a very small part, welcomed the idea of having someone else to share this new responsibility. She’d never say that aloud, of course, never give anyone that kind of ammunition, but she now had a new respect for single parents.
This job was not for sissies.
Meg glanced out the kitchen window and saw Jason’s Mercedes pull into the driveway. Right on time. That hadn’t changed; Jason planned and scheduled everything, which was what made the proposal so out of left field. There was desperation attached to a move like this, and Jason never acted out of desperation. Even when they were kids, every move he made, whether he was playing hide-and-seek or capture the flag or taking her to bed for the first time, was carefully controlled.
And that made her wonder what he knew. Was the situation worse than she thought?
She moved toward the door before he even rang the bell, partly because she didn’t want Molly throwing it open without her there and partly because she was anxious. Anxious to hear what he had to say about how they were supposed to sell this sham of a marriage to people and, she had to admit, anxious to see him. Meg had been head over heels for Jason when she was sixteen, but even if he did still make her girly parts sing, she had to keep her guard up. There was some serious chemistry between them, that hadn’t changed, but she didn’t know if she could ever trust him.
The bell rang, and Molly just about bowled her over to open the door. Meg stepped to the side as Jason was assaulted by forty pounds of squirming five-year-old.
“Uncle Jason!” He caught her with his free arm. “Why do you have flowers?”
He smiled, kissed his niece on the forehead, and stepped inside with Molly clinging to him like a spider monkey. As soon as the door closed, he held the flowers out toward Meg. “For you,” he said. “Thanks for asking me over.”
Stunned and mildly charmed, Meg took the bouquet and stared at him. What was he up to?
“Thank you, and you’re welcome. Come on in; I’ll put these in water.”
As they continued in, he still carrying Molly, the chatter began. “Why did you bring Aunt Meg flowers? Why are you here? Is she your girlfriend? We have a cat. His name is Moe Kitty and he’s nice, but he doesn’t want to wear doll clothes. I like school. My teacher is nice. Kindergarten is soooo easy, and I can count to twenty. Wanna hear? One-two-three-four—”
“Molly, slow down,” he said. “Do you always talk so much?”
By this point they were standing in the kitchen, and Meg looked over to see Molly think about his question before answering. “Uh-huh.”
“Hmmm, well, why don’t we take care of one question at a time, or better, why don’t you tell me about school?”
He settled her on the top of the kitchen island and planted his hands on either side of her hips to keep her safe. Jason was obviously aware that Molly was kinetic.
It was then, when Molly was looking up into her uncle’s face and telling him all about her day, that Meg could see the strong family resemblance. They had the same high cheekbones and dark shiny hair, and a similar spray of very light freckles across the bridges of their noses. And then each of them smiled, and Meg felt her heart skip a beat. They both had beautiful smiles that went right to their clear blue eyes.
Meg fiddled with her flowers before putting them on the kitchen table. She liked the side of Jason she was seeing. The man was a billionaire software developer, so it was nice to see him do something simple, like relate to a child.
Too bad it wasn’t enough.
***
The doorbell rang, and Molly tried to jump off the counter, but fortunately Jason was quicker and caught her. “Pizza’s here!” she called.
Lowering her to the floor so she didn’t break a bone, he started toward the foyer. “Come on, Squirt. Let’s go get the pie. I’m starved.”
Meg reached for her wallet, and Jason couldn’t believe she thought he’d let her pay for dinner.
“I’ve got it,” he said.
“Really, I can—”
“Meg, I’ve got it. You’re not paying.”
He left the room with Molly, and by the time he got back to the kitchen with the pizza, salad, and garlic knots, Meg had the table set. Everything may have looked fine, but she was slamming drawers pretty good, so Jason had a good idea he’d screwed up somehow.
“I can buy dinner myself,” she murmured.
He breathed out and sent Molly off to wash her hands, which left him alone with a pissed-off, cornered woman and her wounded pride. “I’m not going to let you pay. You’re a teacher. Be rea—”
“If you tell me to be fucking reasonable, you’re going to get a garlic knot up your nose.”
It took everything he had not to smile. He really wanted to, but he figured she’d get more pissed off, and that would earn him two garlic knots up the nose. Doing something out of character, he played it safe. “I’m sorry. I’ll remember for next time.”
“Okay.” She looked up, frustrated. “I know it seems dumb to you, but I’m still getting my head around all this. It’s hard for me.”
“You’re independent. I respect that, but the big advantage of being with me is that you don’t have to worry about money. Ever again.”
Meg sank in a chair and pushed her hair away from her face. “I’m marrying for money. God, I feel a little sick.”
“Why? I hate to say it, but it’s not uncommon. And I told you, this is about Molly.”
“Maybe, but I can’t help feeling that your father was right about me.”
“Don’t ever say that.” Jason leaned forward, his muscles tightening in his neck. The tension shot over and around his head and shoulders. He hated that his father made her feel that way. He hated it back then and hated it more now. “You’re doing this for Molly. I know it’s not what you wanted, but try to see the big picture.”
“Right. I have to be reasonable. I’m taking one for the team.”
He scrubbed both hands over his face and sat adjacent to her at the table. “If I could think of another way, I’d go there. But I can’t. Their major point when arguing for custody is going to be your marital status. That they are blood relatives who can provide a traditional family.”
“Traditional? Your parents? Are they kidding?”
He chuckled as he agreed. “It’s crazy, I know, but a judge isn’t going to know that they’re completely dysfunctional.”
<
br /> Meg dropped her head on her arms, and Jason was trying to figure out how he could make this easier when Molly returned, carrying a very large black cat in her arms. The cat was rigid, with his front and rear legs extended while Molly held him around the middle.
“Uncle Jason. This is Moe Kitty.”
“Kitty? He looks like a small panther.” He glanced over at Meg, who was grinning.
“Yes, he does. And he’s all ours,” Meg said.
“He used his box,” Molly said. “I cleaned it.”
Meg shook her head. “Did you wash your hands after?”
Molly froze and looked back and forth, from one adult to the other. She put the cat down and left the room without saying a word.
“I guess we got our answer,” Jason said.
He watched Meg’s mouth turn into a gentle grin. She truly loved the child, and it was obvious Molly returned all the affection. “She’s never boring. Kind of like Grace.”
That was the truth. His sister was never boring. In fact, when they were teenagers, he never understood how the conservative, preppy Meg got along with his Goth sister. But she did. They were inseparable.
“Can I ask you something?” Her voice had gotten small again. It did that when she was upset or frightened.
“Sure. Anything.”
“Why weren’t you at the funeral? How could you not go?”
It hit Jason that no one would have thought to tell her what had happened to him. His family would have had no reason to even acknowledge Meg’s presence, much less explain anything, which was why, when the will was read, the family was so blindsided.
To them, Meg didn’t matter. She never had, and now he was treating her as a pawn in the war he and his sister had started with his parents.
“I was in Asia, in Taiwan, and I couldn’t get home.”
Her eyes hardened. “Couldn’t get home? You probably have a fleet of jets at your disposal. It’s not like you had to fly standby.”
“Not exactly a fleet, but the day Grace died a typhoon hit, and with the flooding, the power outages, and the damage at the airport, I couldn’t fly out. I couldn’t get out for almost a week.”
“Oh.” She swallowed. “Oh . . . I didn’t . . . There was . . . No one told me.”
“I figured. I was frantic. I couldn’t do anything, and I knew . . .” He looked her square in the eyes. “I knew there were people here who needed me. But I was stranded.”
She dropped her eyes, and he knew Meg’s big, sloppy heart felt his pain. It was who she was. And he could see, when she fixed her eyes back on his, that she was thinking about how much she missed Grace. How much they both missed Grace. “That had to have been horrible for you. I mean, you had no one.”
“I survived.” He kept his gaze on her, didn’t budge. This was too important. “Look, I want Molly to be secure and safe, and I think you’re the best person to raise her. It’s what my sister and Mark wanted. I’m too busy with work, and I wouldn’t know how to deal with a little girl like you do. We’ll get married, and I’ll have everything set up so when we separate you won’t have to worry about anything.”
“If we’re married, I can see there’d be some safety in numbers, but when we separate, what’s to stop your parents from doing this again? What’s the plan?”
This was as good a time as any to drop the second part of his idea on her. “Before we get married, we’re going to put her funds in a blind trust, managed by my brother.”
“A blind trust?”
“My brother will be the trustee, controlling the investments, and neither of us will have access to it. That should deflect the argument that you’re after the money.”
“That’s a nice thought, but I doubt it’s going to change Josh’s or anyone else’s mind about me.”
“True enough, but putting the funds with him is about Molly, and it will shut him up. He’ll do the right thing with the trust.” Jason rubbed a hand on the back of his neck. “He can be an asshole, but I trust him with this.”
“Okay, then what?”
“Then we adopt Molly.”
Chapter 4
The dark wood paneling in the conference room was sort of a cliché. But this whole situation was evolving into just that: a cliché. A struggling woman who needed to be saved by a wealthy man. It nauseated Meg. The lawyer was placing papers in front of her, and Jason, who was trying to be supportive, was right next to her, explaining everything that was happening. He’d already signed everything. Now it was her turn.
“There are a few different contracts,” he began. Jason’s voice, which was normally deep and steady, was shaky. She was surprised to realize he was nervous about this. “This is a standard prenup. It gives you a percentage of my income, a portfolio, the house, and half of anything we acquire during the marriage . . .”
Meg nodded. A house, money, things. The Campbells were always about things.
“The prenup is the document we’ll tell everyone about. No one will think it’s out of the ordinary that one of these was executed, just that it’s so . . .” He stopped midsentence.
“So what?” Meg leaned toward him.
“So generous. You’ll do well in the divorce.”
“Perfect. Just what I’ve always wanted. A fabulous divorce settlement.”
Meg signed or initialed where she saw the little Post-it notes and instructed herself to keep breathing. After the appointment here, there were errands to do, and then they were going to see the families. Neither side had any idea what was coming.
Meg felt like she was taking part in a series of emotional ambushes. She ended it with Grant last night, and that was horrible. All she’d said was, “I can’t keep seeing you because I’m getting married.”
Grant hadn’t accused her of cheating on him, but it’s obvious that’s what he thought. She’d hurt him, and after he brought her home, Meg had cried all night, because he didn’t deserve to feel like a castoff. Once he found out who she was marrying, she’d be branded as an opportunist—throwing over a nice guy for money. The damage to her reputation would be epic.
But Meg said nothing. She put the what-ifs out of her head and focused on what was in front of her. Take one for the team.
“This next contract is a separate agreement. It’s a little of everything, including possible custody arrangements,” Jason said. “This is between us.”
“I don’t understand the need for a second document. What’s in something like this?”
“It helps if things are spelled out. Especially regarding Molly. It basically says that we’re to function as a family, be faithful, agree to certain conditions.”
“Conditions? What conditions?”
“Well, we talked about exclusivity, not seeing other people to keep up appearances. You’ll need to break it off with the man you’re seeing.”
“I already did.”
He acknowledged her with a nod. “You should know I haven’t been with anyone steadily for a while.”
“Okay, but I don’t know why we need paperwork when these conditions, as you call them, are pretty obvious.”
“It’s good to have things in writing. It protects everyone.”
Her mind flashed back to his earlier words. “You said something about a house. We have a house?”
Jason nodded. “We’re going there later. We have an appointment with the interior designer.”
Meg felt a grin tease the corner of her mouth. “An interior designer?”
“Yes.” Jason looked up from one of the documents. “She’s excellent. I think you’ll be pleased.”
“Really? You’ve worked with her before? Because, I don’t know, Jason . . .” Meg waved her hand around. “I’d want to see her portfolio before we make a commitment.”
“Her portfolio? Meg . . .”
Meg examined her nails, putting on her best attitude for her soon-to-be husband. She glanced over and saw he was trying to think of something to say, and she’d stunned him speechless. She’d challenged him, and Ja
son the Magnificent wasn’t used to being challenged.
“I can assure you that her credentials are impeccable. She did my apartment in the city, my offices . . .”
Meg couldn’t stand it anymore. She exploded in laughter, which was just what she needed, because if she didn’t laugh at what was happening, she’d have time to think about how her life would never be the same. The life she’d made for herself.
Jason’s lips pressed tightly together, and his eyes narrowed. Meg willed herself to stop so he didn’t get really pissed. But Jason only shook his head and shot a crooked grin in her direction.
“I guess I deserved that for being a pretentious ass.”
“Just a little,” she said, chuckling. “Where is this house of ours?”
“Cold Spring Harbor.”
Meg loved Cold Spring Harbor. Sandwiched on the North Shore between two busier towns, it had a beautiful main street and wonderful schools. It was an expensive, exclusive hamlet that felt like a small town. Molly wouldn’t even have to change schools.
But suddenly, the fear hit. Fear of the changes she was facing, of the loss of her independence. And it wasn’t jitters. Plain and simple, Meg was afraid of losing everything she was. She felt the burn in her eyes and blinked hard, but a tear escaped, rolled off her cheek and plopped on the paper, spreading out, just like everything she was feeling.
Jason reached for the tissues that were in a pretty wooden box at the center of the large conference table and handed her one. “What’s wrong? Gwyneth is a wonderful designer. You can do whatever you want in the house.”
Meg sniffled and dabbed at her eyes, but the tears kept coming. “This isn’t about the designer or the house. I don’t know why I’m crying.” Fingering the pen on the table in front of her, Meg took a deep breath. As much as Jason was trying to make this easy, she felt the despair flood her heart. Her life was gone. She’d hurt Grant, she was going to hurt her family. Everything she knew was going to be gone.