On the hillside terrace overlooking the Pacific, a gentle, salt-scented breeze wafted past Lecie. The house was new to her, but she loved it. She loved California. She loved freedom.
Oh, Papa, why must you meddle in other people’s lives? She let out a grumble and laid her head back on the sofa cushion.
“Turns out…” Camille said, sitting down on the chair to Lecie’s right, “being an adult is rough.”
Lecie snorted. “You said it.” She propped her shades up on top of her head and looked Camille in the eye. “I really don’t want to enter into an arranged marriage.”
“Well, no one says you have to.”
“I’m not going back to France any time soon, either.”
“Not willingly, anyway.”
“I keep hoping that Papa will see the light.” Lecie giggled, wondering how Camille would feel about her using one of Camille’s favorite lines.
To her delight, Camille laughed. Soon though, she was shaking her head. “But you and I both know that’s not likely.” Camille sucked in a breath and shot Lecie a smile that wavered. “When it comes to you and your brothers, Maurice thinks it’s his god-given right to direct your lives. And no matter how old you get, that won’t change.”
“You seem to have put him in his place.”
“Not really,” Camille said. “I just figured out how to appease him.” She chuckled, then her expression turned serious. “Here’s the thing…you need to decide what you’re going to do. If you wait until immigration approaches you, it’ll be too late.”
“Are you telling me to go out and find a husband today?”
“No.” Camille shook her head. “You have a choice.”
“I do?”
Camille nodded. “Either find a suitable man, or call your mother and tell her you’re returning to France with us next week.”
“So it’s like that, huh?”
“Pretty much.” Camille stared toward the ground, closed her eyes for just a second and then looked back up at Lecie. “Unfortunately, this is not one of those times when a person can simply choose to ignore something and it’ll go away. Your father isn’t going away. He’s coming at you full speed ahead.”
“As much as I don’t like to admit it,” Lecie said. “I know that. I don’t want it to be so, but you’re right…I have to prepare.”
Camille shook her head. “I’m not here to talk you into doing something rash. But I promised your brother that by the time I left this country, you’d either be married or returning home to France with me. So you see…” Camille grinned. “I have to make sure you choose the right guy.”
Lecie laughed. “Is there a wrong one?”
“Oh, yes.” Camille sighed. “Tons of them.”
Tell me about it. But when it came to it, there was no right guy for Lecie because Mr. Right was already married. That alone should make her want to run back to France. But it didn’t. And even though this would probably turn out badly, she wasn’t ready to go, and she’d be damned if she’d let Papa make her.
“Well, then…” Lecie swallowed around the lump in her throat. “Perhaps tomorrow we will start looking.”
Either that, or Lecie had better start packing her bags.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
NICK STARED ACROSS THE TABLE at his and Dean’s childhood friends, Ken and Jerod. Getting together on Fridays for lunch was a ritual ever since graduating high school. Now that Nick owned a restaurant, that made it even easier. They never needed a reservation or had to worry about waiting for a table.
“I can’t believe you’re going to have to sell this place,” Ken said, gazing around Hang Ten’s dining room.
“Don’t you have any sort of legal recourse?” Jerod asked the same question that everyone—even Nick—kept asking.
“I went to the police,” Nick said. “They said that because I’d made her a joint owner on the accounts there’s nothing I can do, other than have a restraining order issued against her. So I did.”
“He’d probably get farther with a civil suit,” Ken, a paralegal for a top-notch criminal attorney, shrugged and bit into his fully-loaded burger.
Dean gave Ken a hardened glare. “A civil suit. Really? Is that the best you can come up with.”
Ken swallowed and said, “I don’t make the rules…”
“What she’s done is criminal,” Jerod said with a determined nod.
“Regardless,” Nick’s stern tone got their attention. “I made her joint owner on nearly all my accounts.” He shrugged. “We were gonna get married for Crissakes.” Nick shook his head. Even now, almost two weeks after being dumped at the altar, he still found himself dumbfounded over how naïve and gullible he’d been where Ginny was concerned. “It’s my own fault.” There was nothing or no one to blame except Nick and his own stupidity. “I’m just glad I didn’t add her name to Hang Ten’s title yet, otherwise, she’d be taking half of this place too.” Nick glanced around, realizing he’d been gifted with a bit of luck. Small as it may be, but a little luck nonetheless.
“But the fact remains that Nick needs an out,” Dean said, dumping ketchup over his fries. “I realize that legal or civil action may or may not prove gratifying in the end, but right now—” He pointed at Nick. “He needs money. And lots of it. Otherwise, we’re going to have to start paying for our lunches.”
Chuckles traveled around the table, infecting even Nick. “I’ve tried everywhere short of a lone shark, guys.” Nick shook his head. “I can’t get a loan.”
“Maybe what you need to do is stop thinking about getting a loan and start thinking about selling a small percentage of the restaurant to a silent partner,” Ken suggested. “Not a huge chunk of it. Just enough to pay off the actual debts Ginny racked up for you.”
“What about his savings? She wiped him out of well over fifty grand.” By the tone of his voice, Dean didn’t like the idea of Nick just cutting his losses.
“Look, if Nick wants to retain control of this restaurant,” Ken said, “he’s going to have to chalk some of this up to lost causes.”
Nick started nodding. “Yeah…I see where you’re going with this. Find an investor to sell just enough of the restaurant to pay off the bank fees, the line of credit, and the suppliers. But more importantly, Hang Ten is still mine.”
Nick ran a quick tally in his head. A hundred and fifty thou should do it. He’d have zip to fall back on, but maybe the bank would let him keep his line of credit.
“Great.” Nick clapped his hands together. “Now where am I gonna find an investor in this economy?”
All of Nick’s friends’ ogling eyes drifted toward the door. He glanced over his shoulder to see what they found so fascinating.
Deidra pulled open the front door of Hang Ten. The cool air blowing past Lecie nearly carried away her courage. Camille and Tasha were sure that Dean was going to accept Lecie’s proposal, so long as he wasn’t involved with someone. Yeah, right. Since when is a hot guy like Dean not involved?
Lecie was already on the verge of running when she glanced around the restaurant and saw Nick, Dean, and two other guys she’d seen them dining with in the past. Great. Nick and all his friends were here to witness her humiliation.
“Camille,” Lecie whispered as they lingered near the “please wait to be seated” sign. “I’m thinking this is not such a great idea.”
Camille looked at her with a stoic face. “So you’re ready to go home?” she asked. “Back to France?”
No. Lecie wasn’t prepared for that either. She felt a groan rumble up her throat. Damn Papa anyway. “All right.” She folded her arms at her waist and stiffened. “It’s just not that easy.”
Keri approached the group, grabbing four menus. “Ladies…how are we today?”
Goods and fines came in staggering replies.
“Your regular booth?” Keri asked, looking at Lecie. She nodded. Keri gestured and cut a path toward the rear of the dining room. Lecie and the others followed.
Once they had settled
into the booth and ordered a round of lemon drop martinis, Keri left and all eyes turned to the table off in the corner filled with men.
“The owner of this place…?” Tasha inquired. “What’s his name?”
“Married.” Lecie cut her eyes to Tasha. “His name is married.”
“Well that may be.” Tasha giggled. “But he is delicious—” She looked at Camille. “Isn’t he?”
“Oh, yeah.” Camille said, grinning. “Now we know why Lecie and Deidra like to come here.” Both women laughed.
Lecie waved her hand in the air. “Remember me?” she asked. “The sister-in-law…to both of you, I might add.”
“Oh, good Lord…” Deidra grumbled, glancing around the restaurant. “There’s nothing wrong with looking.”
“Thank you.” Camille and Tasha said in unison.
Then Camille took it solo, saying, “Guys do it all the time. Why can’t we?”
Tasha gave Lecie one of those reproaching looks. “I love your brother dearly, but I can still appreciate a nice looking man when I see one.” She smiled and her eyes drifted back over to Nick’s table. “Even married ones.”
“Speaking of married…” Deidra’s eyes fell over the restaurant again, looking troubled. “Where is Ginny? It’s not like her to not be here.” She gave the guys’ table another quick once-over and then looked back at Lecie. “She’s always here stalking Nick.”
“She doesn’t need to stalk him anymore. She’s his wife now.” Lecie took a sip of her drink to get the bitter taste of her words out of her mouth.
“And if you don’t want to head back to France pronto,” Tasha said. “You’d better turn into somebody’s wife real quick.”
Lecie replied, “That’s easier said than done.”
Tasha shrugged. “You just go up to the guy and say, you want to make a quick, what…hundred thou…for a few months of your time?” She glanced at the table of men, then turned back to Lecie. “He looks like he could put a hundred grand to good use.”
“Easier said than done.” Lecie repeated her mantra, but with more tenacity this time. She knew what she had to do. She got that she was dealing with Papa—a man who never played fair. Finding a husband, even a temporary one, was her only hope. But that didn’t make the task any easier.
“Nonsense.” Tasha rolled her eyes.
Lecie nearly laughed out loud and began shaking her head. Easy for Tasha to say, she wasn’t the one who had to walk up to Dean and make the proposal.
“Want me to prove it?” Tasha asked.
Lecie narrowed her eyes and studied Tasha. Was she serious? Maybe Lecie should call her bluff. “You going to propose for me?” Lecie chuckled.
Tasha elbowed Camille. “Let me up.” She followed Camille out of the booth, stood over the table and said to Lecie, “Watch and learn.” She gave Lecie a wink before turning and heading toward the table with Nick and his friends.
The booth of blondes and their lone brunette friend had been a favorable topic at the guys’ table, ever since they’d walked in. Dean didn’t miss the fact that Nick’s eyes were staying on the cute little blonde a little longer than usual today. The one who’d been coming into the restaurant for the last few weeks with the darker haired girl. He took it as a good sign that Nick was showing some interest in a new woman. Maybe she could help him move on.
From the corner of his eye, Dean caught sight of the bombshell of the bunch heading their way. He was surprised when she walked straight up to him, bent down and said, “Could I have a word with you?” She straightened back up, looked him in the eye, and added, “at the bar?”
He glanced at her hands, her left one in particular. She had this big honking diamond on a certain finger. Probably married to some old geezer and was out looking for a little afternoon delight. “Sure thing, honey.” He slid his chair back as he stood, puffed out his chest, and looked at the other guys, grinning.
The bombshell leaned against the bar and Dean did the same, deciding to let her take the lead. Better that she thought she was in charge.
“Are you married?” she asked in a friendly enough voice.
“What difference does it make?” he inquired with a smile and a measure of charm.
“Are you married?” she asked again, a little firmer this time.
Okay, so she was the controlling type. But he had news for her—he wasn’t going for none of this weird-ass tying up shit. Dean shook his head. “But you are.” He pointed to her left hand.
“Forget about me.” She waved her hand between them as if nixing that whole idea. “Are you seriously involved with anyone?”
“No.” Dean was answering now more for sport than anything else. She’d gotten his attention, and his curiosity was willing to let her take him wherever she wanted.
“Good.” She moved off the bar. “Stay here. My friend will be right with you.”
With that, she went back to her table, stood over it and she and the cute little blonde who was newly on Nick’s radar started chatting. About what, Dean couldn’t hear, but he had a feeling he was about to find out.
“He’s not married and he’s not involved.” Tasha’s unbending voice delivered her words straight to the point. “Get your butt over there and talk to him. Find out if he could be the right man for the job.” Her tone eased up and she giggled.
“Right now?” Lecie’s fear escaped with her words. “What’ll I say?”
“Oh, I don’t know.” Tasha paused, as if thinking about it. “Have you ever been arrested? You’re not a serial killer, are you?”
“Like he’d tell me.” Lecie huffed as Deidra nudged her out of the booth.
“If you’re ready to go back to France…” Tasha waved dramatically at the booth. “Then by all means, have a seat.”
Lecie practically stomped her way to the bar where Nick’s best friend was waiting for her. She stole a glance at Nick’s table. He and his other friends were watching intently. Back at the bar, Dean wore the face of curiosity.
Lecie hopped up on a bar stool next to him and tried to smile, finding it oddly curious how hard that was. It wasn’t every day that she asked a stranger on a date—much less to marry her.
“Afternoon.” His own smile changed from one of arrogance to something more along the lines of caution. “You and your friends…” He glanced at the booth, then back to Lecie. “You bored? Got a bet going on?”
Lecie let out a big sigh. “This was a bad idea.” She prepared to jump off the stool, but Dean’s gentle hand on her arm calmed her.
“You’re not from around here, are you?” he asked in a gentle, playful way.
“No.” She settled back onto the stool. “But this is still a bad idea,” she added, shaking her head.
“You and your friend have already made me look like a fool,” he said, as if the joke was on him. “Don’t I at least get to know why?”
Lecie hadn’t considered that. She knew all about looking like an idiot, and she didn’t want to knowingly put anyone in that position. “See…” She gestured toward the booth where Deidra, Camille and Tasha were all watching their every move. “We’re all from France.”
Dean shook his head. “The chick who was just here is an American.”
“Yes…but she’s married to my brother.” Lecie shuffled her eyes back and forth between the booth and Dean. “The one sitting beside her is married to my other brother.”
“I see,” he said, but the look on his face suggested otherwise.
“Anyway…” Lecie looked around, wishing she’d brought her drink with her. “Any chance you want to make a hundred grand for a few months of your time?”
He looked like he wanted to say something, but couldn’t. Every couple of seconds, Lecie thought a smile was going to break out on his mouth, but it never did. Finally, after what seemed an eternity, he said, “Doing what? Is it legal?”
She thought about it. “Mostly.” Although immigration probably wouldn’t like it much.
“Doing what?”
&nbs
p; “I need someone to marry me,” she said. “Just for a few months, though.”
Dean tilted his head and stared at her like she was crazy. “Let me get this straight…you’re gonna pay somebody to marry you for a few months?”
She nodded. “How does one hundred grand sound?”
“A hundred grand?” he asked, as if it was the nuttiest thing he’d ever heard.
“Okay, two hundred and fifty thousand.” She raised her hand between them. “Up front. The minute you sign the marriage license.”
“Let me guess…” He gave her a hard glare. “You have tons of money, problem is you can’t access it right now. But if I can come up with say ten grand, you’ll be able to get to it. Am I close?”
“No.” Lecie shook her head, mildly insulted by his insinuation. “I can get to my money just fine. I’m talking about a business deal. Six months of your time in exchange for two hundred and fifty thousand dollars. No funding on your part. No strings attached, except that to immigration the marriage must appear real.” She sucked in a breath, feeling completely humiliated. “Six months, quarter of a million dollars. What do you say?”
“Who put you up to this?” he asked, then looked over his shoulder and pointed at Nick. “Is this your idea of a joke?”
Nick strolled over and asked, “What’s going on?”
“Hey…” Dean kept pointing at Nick but looked at Lecie. “He’s the one who needs money. Marry him.”
“What?” Nick said, almost laughing.
Lecie’s eyes darted between the two of them and settled on Dean. “He’s already married.” Her gaze wandered over to Nick, “aren’t you?”
Nick hesitated, then said, “No. That…didn’t happen.” He looked a little uncomfortable, but quickly seemed to regain control of his senses. “But never mind that. What are you two cooking up?”
Dean grabbed Lecie’s hand and pulled her off the stool. “Let’s talk in your office,” he said to Nick.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
NICK FOLLOWED DEAN AND THE GIRL into his office and shut the door. He looked at her, stuck his hand out and said, “Nick Matthews. I own this joint.” For now, muddled through his thoughts. Nick backhanded Dean’s gut. “This bozo is Dean Triplett.”
Billionaire Games Boxed Set (The Marriage Bargain, The Marriage Caper, The Marriage Fix) Page 43