by Mia Caldwell
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Chapter 7
Cole
I welcomed Kiona Walker into my home, and she did her best to hide how absolutely out of her element that she was. For a few seconds, her wide eyes darted around everywhere, taking in the perceived opulence of the penthouse. As she composed herself, I smiled and took it in stride, inviting her through the foyer and for a grand tour of the place.
It occurred to me as I led Kiona through the penthouse that the only other employee of mine who had been here was my executive assistant, Kylie.
For a brief moment as the realization hit me, I reconsidered the entire thing. It was possible that I was perhaps making a huge mistake with this entire ridiculous plan. Alphonse was likely to see through the entire charade.
But under my deceptively aloof eye, I noticed something interesting. When I had first greeted Kiona at the door, it was the thinnest veneer of restraint that kept her from collapsing onto the floor. However, as we moved further into my home, through a hallway here and a few chambers there, she grew visibly comfortable with her surroundings. With a glance, I noticed that her eyes were quickly scanning every last piece of expensive decorum around, every tapestry and painting, building up an internal database of…my belongings?
No, that wasn’t right, she wasn’t objectifying my worth or focusing on the details. It was apparent that she was studying the general level of affluence, and adapting to suit it. Yes, she was walking straighter now; her chin lifted higher and her gaze grew colder.
I suppose I shouldn’t be too surprised by now.
“Can I offer you anything to drink, Kio–” I paused, correcting myself, “I mean, Key?”
“I’ll take some water, if you’d please,” she smiled warmly with radiant, inviting eyes.
“How about some wine?”
Something changed in her eyes. “Red, if you’d be so kind.”
I nodded, then stepped a few rooms over to the kitchen. Featuring an ultraviolet-proof glass door with black interior and royal purple LED lighting, my premium, stainless steel wine cooler stood at the ready for just this occasion. Opening the door, I slid out one of the ten shelves of bottles, selecting a vintage pinot noir, then carefully pouring two glasses before setting everything back.
When I strolled back towards the hall where I’d left her, Kiona was nowhere in sight. A glance through the staggered glass panes showed me that she had excused herself outside, admiring the view from across the rooftop. Gripping both wine glasses between my deft fingers, I let myself out through the nearby door, walking across the grass towards her.
My guest was standing against the concrete lip that surrounded this outer area, leaning with her forearms down against the surface. The wind whipped at her hair, the beautiful sunset only making her look more beautiful than before. I paused, hesitant to disturb her as she enjoyed what must have been an exhilarating view for her.
I began to approach, before she could notice me staring. Pushing myself back a couple of years, I tried to remember what it was like to see this view for the first time – long before company buyouts and international corporate flights. I had never had the time to dwell on the luxuries afforded my lifestyle now. I’d spent maybe a few weeks total out of the last several months, constantly wining and dining potential clients, going on tours of existing clients, and so on. Despite my introversion, I believed in applying the personal touch – I wasn’t averse to making the right appearances. My reputation for being a mere flight away in the face of catastrophe had rewarded me handsomely, along with distinct skills and razor-sharp intuition.
That intuition was what led me to even consider this entire, stupid idea, but now that I saw my next business partner admiring the urban landscape from my empty, gilded tower top…I couldn’t help but feel that perhaps I had missed something crucial all along.
“Your wine, mademoiselle,” I offered politely.
“Why, thank you,” she replied, turning her gaze and gratefully taking her glass from my fingers. While she waved the glass beneath her nostrils, her eyebrows arched and a small, seductive smile slipped effortlessly across her lips. Closing her eyes, she sipped from the glass, savoring the taste before swallowing.
I joined her, briefly swirling my own glass before pressing the lip against my own.
“How do you find it?” I asked a moment later, curious to see how deeply her constant transformation extended.
“Delightful,” she answered modestly.
“Good.” Kiona didn’t gush, nor did she show any but the slightest inclination that she wasn’t used to this kind of treatment or that potency of wine. She was controlled, constrained, and careful with her answer.
“How do you find the view?”
Kiona glanced back over her shoulder, exposing her delicious mocha neck for a moment as she scanned the horizon. “Excluding your private little palace, this is the most incredible sight I’ve ever seen.”
An answer not meant to impress, but to show her gratitude. I could accept this.
“I’m glad you appreciate it.”
“Do you?” She asked suddenly, turning back to me.
“I am…I mean, of course I do.”
Curse this woman’s perception.
Kiona gave me a sideways glance. “Nice little castle you have up here.” Her lips curled into a soft, confident smile. “Perhaps we should get down to me moving in.”
“Oh, you are…definitely not moving in,” I chuckled.
“I’ve heard of separate bedrooms, but separate altitudes? Oof,” she chuckled. “That’s going to be a tough one to sell to your people.”
“You let me worry about that,” I replied. “We should probably discuss the nature of this arrangement, though…after all, you’re not actually going to be my wife.”
“Am I not?” She tilted her head.
“No…you are going to sign a document first.”
“Signing a document for a relationship with a billionaire? I’ve heard of that kind of thing, mister. I’m not really a whips and chains sort of woman.”
I didn’t get the reference, but I smiled politely anyway. “It’s a legally-binding document annulling the marriage in advance. It is a page that legally restores both of us to our present state, as if it had never happened.”
“You just don’t want me holding out on the divorce and then taking half your money,” she said with a smile.
“If I thought you were going to stab me in the back, I’d have never discussed this with you in the first place. Trust me, Key, I don’t plan on spending my time checking every glass of wine I drink for poison…”
We shared a laugh. It feels good to laugh this often.
“So, tell me exactly how that’s legal,” Kiona segued. “I mean, what judge is going to honor that?”
“My judge,” I answered.
“Your judge?” Her eyes narrowed.
“The judge who helped draft up the document up for me. With significant input from my legal team, that is.”
“This is so very wrong all around. You realize you’re basically tricking someone into buying your company with a fake bride and a silly contract…written by a judge in your back pocket…that’s supposed to magically undo the marriage when you’re ready...”
I grinned, letting a glint of mischievous enter my eyes. “Well, when you put it that way, you do make me sound bad.”
“You’re the worst…”
We smiled, sipping our wine.
“…But for the right reasons, maybe.”
“What’s that?” I was curious about the remark.
Kiona averted her gaze, staring out across the open sky. “I just don’t see you doing something like this unless it was really important, you know? To be so desperate that you’ll pull out all the stops to make this deal go through…it doesn’t line up at all with your history. You’ve trail-blazed your company with a clear vision. Maybe I was just trying to get inside for the wrong reasons, but I worked there and I saw it first-hand. Y
ou’re not struggling. In fact, things at your company are fantastic…it just doesn’t make any sense to stoop down to this when you’re firmly in your prime. The world’s yours, Cole.”
Her eyes blinked onto me again. The ferocity was back from before – that caged animal inside her that glared out through her gaze.
“So I guess what I’m asking is… Why? Why do all of this?”
I took a deep breath, studying her carefully. That sudden power in her eyes surprised and intrigued me, but it didn’t budge me. There wasn’t a force on Hell or Earth that intimidated me anymore, including Kiona Walker.
“I have to keep that close to my chest for now,” I told her. “All you need to know is that there is only a limited window for this to happen. I am meeting with the buyer in three weeks. At that point, I will have to present the woman I’ve married.”
“Who is this guy, anyway?”
“A traditional man.”
Kiona narrowed her eyes again. “Why won’t you tell me?”
“The less you know, the better.”
“That’s how it’s gonna be?” She smiled.
I returned with a smirk. “For now, yes.”
Kiona downed the rest of her wine in a single breath, setting the glass aside. “Alright then. Let me see the damned piece of paper.”
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Chapter 8
Kiona
Two Days Later
Hesitantly, I sipped at a coke over ice – with a light splash of rum on top to trick her – while Swaree glanced over the couple of pages one last time. Her own drink, a whiskey and coke, was condensing on the coaster nearby as she sat up in disbelief.
“Only you, Key,” she muttered. “I mean, I wanted to believe this whole thing, but this is insane! This looks official and everything! I don’t know how it won’t be immediately smacked down by a court…”
Aiswarya, in truth, was my secret weapon – not only my best friend, but also a talented, professional paralegal with incredible memory for the law. I knew that if there were any stupid flaws in this entire thing, she’d be the one to spot them in a heartbeat.
“He says that he has a judge who’ll honor it,” I mentioned, taking another small sip. “I mean, Cole’s a billionaire. He already made sure to mention that he has a whole legal department at the standby to defend this thing to Hell and back.”
Swaree bit her lip. “Yeah…that’s the only thing. If this were, oh I don’t know, basically anybody else, I’d laugh hysterically at the whole thing and tell you to marry him, get yourself onto some private island with some money, then wait him out and have him served some divorce papers or something…”
She looked up at me, seeing my angry stare.
“You know,” I told her, “He’s already paying me fifteen million to do this. I’ve never even thought about having anything with this guy…until just a few days ago, I’d never even shared a word with him, let alone considered being married to him… I’m not looking to talk half his stuff. Fifteen million is enough.”
“Oh, I know!” Swaree laughed nervously with a big grin. “Sorry… Greed is part of human nature or something, I don’t know.”
“You’d do it.” I teased.
“And I’d have him thrown into traffic! No heirs or anything? Screw half!”
We shared a laugh over our drinks. Swaree, still grinning, set the papers aside and turned back to me.
“Well…I mean, theoretically this thing is air-tight – but still kind of ridiculous. You could definitely fight it after the fact, but that would mean facing off against him and it sounds like you’d be better off walking away clean. What’s to stop you from just leaving with the seven and a half million he gives you up front?”
“My pride and work ethic?” I replied, laughing. “Look, I’m serious, I’m in this thing now and you can’t tell anyone about it. You’ve read the non-disclosure agreement.”
“You worry too much Key. Client attorney privilege! I wont’ say a thing. Are you really going to go through with this?”
“Of course!” I grinned. “What’s not to like about being on the arm of a handsome billionaire for a few weeks? He’s got it all, and this is a great opportunity for me…”
Swaree’s face fell, and she turned away. I knew what she thought of my use of the word opportunity for things like this, but that’s exactly what this was – a possible step upwards. I didn’t have a clue where it would go, but I didn’t really see “billionaire’s ex-wife” as a particular con for whatever the future would bring.
“Have you even really thought this through?” She asked suddenly, her wrist indicating the documents.
“What do you mean?”
She set her drink down, looking me in the eyes. “Look, I know what you’ve been through, and everything you’ve had to do to get this far…I get that. But one day, your impulsiveness is going to really screw it all up for you. This constant reinvention thing you’ve got going on… The things you’ve done… When is it going to be enough?”
I contemplatively took another sip of my drink.
“I’ll know when it’s enough.”
* * *
The Thursday following our meeting, I was invited back to Cole Andrews’ office for another luncheon. It was hard to believe that so much had happened in a single week, but I was taking it all in stride. So far I’d been holding it all together. The only dicey moment was when I sent off an e-mail to an anonymous server letting my old benefactors know I wasn’t going to complete my assignment. The reply had been so cold and simple it almost came off as a threat: CONTRACT TERMINATED.
“Kind of have a thing for fish, do you?” I chuckled, grazing my fork prongs across a plate of blackened catfish, steamed and seasoned broccoli, and some sort of baked crabmeat dish that I didn’t recognize.
“Fish suits me,” Cole smiled. “Should I perhaps have something else prepared for next time? Any particular tastes you’d like to take advantage of, while you have the time?”
“No,” I shook my head, “show me what you like. It’s easier to get a grasp of you that way.”
“Very well then.”
This time, I focused on enjoying the meal rather than picking apart the eccentric billionaire. Deceptively simple, everything tasted extraordinary with their subtle blends of distinct spices, all cooked to perfection. Even the seasoned, buttery broccoli challenged my existing hesitation on the otherwise bland vegetable.
“I take it you enjoyed,” Cole spoke again as we dabbed at our lips with our napkins, indicating the meal.
“Very much so. Thank you.”
He paused, a smile threatening to cross his lips, but instead shrugged off my gesture of appreciation. “It’s perfectly fine. As I discussed the other day, when we went over this document, I am expecting a legitimate, legalized answer today. Have you come prepared?”
I nodded, withdrawing the one-folded papers from my replacement knock-off purse. It wouldn’t have to be knock-off for long. Soon, I’d have a whole damn closet of purses. “Here you go. Everything should be in order.”
Cole wiped his fingers one last time, taking the pages from me and thoroughly scanning the fields. He studied them for a few minutes, flipping firmly through the pages until scanning the final signatures.
“Your witness signature…who is Aiswarya Raina?”
“My closest friend,” I answered, impressed with his effortless pronunciation.
“What does she do?”
“Does it matter?”
“To me, yes.”
I scowled. “She’s a paralegal.”
He glanced up from the page. “Oh? That must be convenient for you…she read the contract I take it?”
“Yes,” I answered, growing impatient with his questions.
“And what was her professional opinion?”
Now I was starting to get angry. “‘Theoretically airtight’ and ‘still kind of ridiculous’ were her choice of words, if memory serves. She didn’t understand how any judge w
ould honor this, but advised me to not try and go against a billionaire in court if I was going through with it.”
“Your friend is intelligent,” he observed offhandedly, then folded the pages again and slid them into an interior pocket in his blazer. Slowly, I watched him reach into another pocket and pull out a small slip of paper, carefully handing it to me.
“What is this?” I asked, looking down at the little yellow slip. The words Credit Suisse were emblazoned across the top, and an extremely long number was stamped across the center in a raised font I could feel with my fingertips.