by Violet Paige
The bathroom door opened and Evie walked out, clutching my phone.
“You left this on the counter.” Her eyes met mine. Was she angry? “Sasha called three times.” She dropped it into my palm. “Someone back home?”
I scowled. “She’s in New York.”
Evie pressed her lips together as if she was considering how to lay into me. “You know, I had a few minutes to think about our situation, and I don’t think this is going to work.”
“What are you talking about? Of course it will. It already has.”
“We’re not drunk anymore. The sun is up. You can fly back to your life in New York. I’ll just rent a car and drive back to Newton Hills. I’m sure we can get the marriage annulled. It hasn’t even been twenty-four hours. There is no way this counts as marriage.”
I stared at her. “No fucking way.”
Was she trying to run? Trying to wiggle out of the bargain we had made? It wasn’t going to happen. Evie was mine now. Forever.
“It’s ok to admit we made a mistake. I’ll see you at one of our reunions and we can laugh about this. I haven’t told anyone. No one would ever know. They don’t need to. A secret between old friends.”
“You think I want out?”
“Don’t you? You said yourself you aren’t husband material. I get it. Sasha is waiting for you. Real life is more important than what we concocted together in the wine cellar. We were beyond drunk.”
I shook my head. “What does this have to do with Sasha?”
“Why else would a beautiful woman keep calling you? I can’t be mad that you weren’t completely honest with me last night. I refuse to turn this into more than what it was. Ok? I can handle it, Jer. You’re in a relationship with her. I’m not angry.”
“Sasha isn’t waiting for me like that.” I exhaled, crossing my arms.
“I saw her picture every time she called. I looked down from brushing my teeth and there she was. She looks like a Russian supermodel. I’m not as naïve as you think I am. I’ve traveled enough to understand what happens with—with men and sex. I haven’t been out of Newton Hills in three years, but still. I’m not an idiot. Last night I was the answer to your crisis. Today, you can find a better solution. Something that makes sense. I don’t. I probably never did.”
I had to stop the train from going off the tracks. Evie was my answer in every way. She made sense to me.
As usual, I had figured out a way to fuck up everything. Even a fake marriage.
“Sit.” I pointed to the café chair in front of the balcony. It’s probably where we should have eaten breakfast instead of on the bedroom floor.
Evie clasped the fluffy spa robe labeled Mrs. to her chest. I could smell her citrus lotion.
“I’m serious.” She looked at me. “I don’t want anything from you. Let’s call this what it is. An amazing night.” She smiled sweetly. “Very. Good. Sex.”
“I want you to listen to what I have to say.”
“Fine, but I know I’m right about this.”
“You said something in the shower that pissed me off.”
“I wasn’t thinking about what you had just gone through. It was really insensitive.”
“You don’t have to apologize.” I reached for the room service cart and poured us two fresh cups of coffee. We needed them. This wasn’t going to be a short conversation.
“It pissed me off because it’s true.” I shrugged. “Because my father was never willing to face his own mortality. Because he thought he could control my life and force me into something I didn’t want. And for what? Money? Power?” I shook my head. “Where the Hartwells are concerned, those two are the same thing. You can’t have one without the other. And he proved that time and again. Yesterday it fucking punched me in the face. Money means more than family. Wasn’t that the message in his will? Money is the reward for breeding?”
“Then don’t fall into that trap. You don’t need the money to be happy. Don’t go through with it.”
I chuckled. She was naïve and sweet, even though she thought she had earned herself some street smarts on her trip to L.A.
“My father worked every day of his life. He never took vacations unless it could be rolled into a business trip. He constantly bargained and bartered. He made deals and brokered acquisitions. His empire grew. The money grew. And I never saw him.
“Do you know how many of my baseball games he came to?”
She shook her head. “No.”
“This many.” I held up two fingers. “One in high school when the scholarship recruit attended, and the first night I pitched in the majors. Those were both out of necessity because he was told the media would want to interview him. You know, get the story from the proud parents.”
“Jer, that’s terrible. I’m sorry.”
I hung my head. “Well, that was my old man. A selfish asshole. So do you kind of see why I’m not the best candidate to be a father?”
“But you don’t have to do what he did. You can change all of that. I don’t believe our paths are pre-determined. You can do something completely different than your father.”
“And I’m going to.”
She cocked her head to the side. The sunlight caught the tips of her eyelashes. “How?”
“By letting someone who is loving and kind raise my child the way I wasn’t raised. By giving him an actual chance to grow up and not be screwed from the beginning.”
“Him?” she blinked.
I smirked. “Or her.” This wasn’t the time to tell her the idea of a daughter terrified me. “You can do that, Evie. You can do something a Hartwell never could. You can be the mother my baby deserves.”
She squeezed her eyes together. “I want a baby more than anything. I do. But something about your reaction in the shower. Sasha—”
“Sasha is not my girlfriend. And I reacted like a dick. But I wasn’t mad at you. It hit me that my father worked his entire life to build an empire and for what? To be a horrible dad? Godawful husband? And he didn’t take a dime with him. There was no purpose in his life. No fucking meaning in any of it.”
“Don’t say that.”
“It’s true.” I sipped my coffee. “His legacy consists of a cold wife and a son who didn’t love him. Not much to be proud of. You think the people who worked for him truly care he died? Was he proud of Hartwell Global? Did that matter more than his family?”
“He had to be proud of you, Jer. Look at you. You graduated at the top of our class with a baseball scholarship. You played in college and in the majors. That’s incredible. There’s no one else from Newton Hills who can say that. And now you…” She looked at me. “What do you do now?”
I laughed. “We didn’t get that far, did we?”
“No, we didn’t. I was the open book last night, and you remained mysterious as usual.”
“As usual?” I cocked an eyebrow. “When have I ever been mysterious?”
“Ok, maybe the better word for it is secretive.”
“There are no secrets, Evie. I’ve been open with you.”
“Then tell me what you do now. Obviously not baseball. And I know it’s not the oil and gas business. Or vacations. How do you spend your time?”
“I have an office in New York.”
“What kind of office?”
“I have projects I develop.”
She folded her arms across her chest. “See? You’re not an open book. It was a simple question, but you keep your secrets.”
I huffed. “Not secrets. I’m not used to talking about myself. The less I share, the better things usually turn out.”
She shook her head. “Why would you say that? You’d rather stay closed off the rest of your life than let someone in?”
“It’s not closed off. It’s smart.” I rotated the mug in my hand. “You know me as Jeremy Hartwell, small town baseball hero, right?”
“And a few other choice words,” she teased.
“Well, that’s not who I am in New York. I’m Jeremy Hartwell,
heir to the Hartwell Global fortune. Professional athlete. Millionaire. The circles I run in care about my name. And they care about what’s in my bank account.”
“Then why are you in those circles? That sounds horrible. You have friends you can’t trust?”
“You make it seem black and white. It’s never that clear in New York. Every friend is a connection. And every connection leads to an opportunity.” I leaned into the table. “Let’s say I have a meeting with an energy drink company, set up through one of the guys I play golf with. His uncle heard we were friends and wants me to endorse one of their new drinks. On the surface that seems cut and dry. They pay me. I stand in front of the cameras holding their shitty drink. But what you don’t know is that the owner of the energy drink company has a son who always wanted to play baseball. And that son will probably show up at the photo shoot because he’s such a big fan. And of course, he’s going to bring along his girlfriend to impress her. Because that’s what I would do.” I smiled. “It turns out the girlfriend is talkative. And it doesn’t take much for her to reveal her dad owns an investment firm. Specifically, a firm that invests in athletes’ financial ventures.”
Evie’s eyes were wide. She sipped her coffee, hanging on my words.
“One thing leads to another and I have a new investor.”
“What kind of investor?” she asked.
“Very wealthy. Very influential.” I lifted my coffee. “And that’s just a sliver of one of my projects. One investor always brings more investors to the table. It’s a chain reaction that keeps my companies running.”
“But what do you do? What are they investing in?”
“In the beginning it was small. I started a chain of sports bars. That’s one piece of the pie. I also have my own baseball cleat brand. I’m trying to sign a deal to get my cleats in all the minor league clubhouses. Right now, I’m developing an entire workout line, while simultaneously moving into the sports app business. Fantasy baseball and streaming options for baseball fans.”
“You’re doing all of that now?”
“Yes. Which is why I can’t leave New York. And you need to move in with me. It will be convenient and efficient. Two things I desperately need if we’re going to pull this off.”
“Did your father know?”
“Did he know what?”
“That you started your own baseball empire from the ground? Did he have any idea?”
I shook my head. “I don’t know. And I don’t care. But I came to my senses last night in Bella’s. I can finally have what I’ve always wanted. We can earn my inheritance together.”
“And what is it you’ve always wanted?”
I grinned. “You, sweet Evie, are going to help me buy my own major league team.”
16
Evie
If I thought I was in over my head before, I was certain of it now. Jeremy was more than what met the eye. He was not only gorgeous, but he was also brilliant. He had plans and dreams that blew my stupid screenplays out of the water. It seemed absurd now that I spent night after night downstairs in the cellar in the dark crafting scenes once the restaurant had closed. I spent hours rewriting dialogue until my eyes were bleary. He had spent years networking and investing.
I wanted a baby. He wanted to run his own legendary franchise. He was going to make a mark on the industry. I was trying to increase the human population.
“Evie?”
“Hmm?”
“Are you all right?” he asked.
“Yes. I just had no idea. I don’t know how you keep everything straight. How you manage so many businesses and contacts at once. I had a hard time with three tables at Bella’s. And what’s that compared to what you’ve done?”
“Don’t compare us. You’ve had your own struggles. I remember what you told me about your mother last night. And the demands of your family.”
“But how did you do all of this alone?”
“There’s one answer. Sasha.”
“The beautiful Russian.”
“My partner.”
“The one you’re not dating?” I wasn’t going to be foolish. There was no way I’d believe he hadn’t slept with her.
“I’m not dating her.”
My eyes narrowed. “You’re not dating her or you’ve never dated her?”
He groaned. “Why are we even talking about this? You and I have negotiated a good thing here. A perfect deal. People would kill to have this kind of marriage.”
I couldn’t let it go that easily. “An annulment won’t hurt my feelings. It will be quick and painless for both of us. How can you think after everything you just told me, that this is the kind of relationship that’s right for you? You need someone in your corner, Jer. You need a real support system. A real marriage.”
His eyes flared. “This is the relationship I need. You won’t interfere or distract me. We can live our lives however we want. I’ll focus on the team. You focus on writing and the baby. There’s no other obligation here.”
He zapped every ounce of romance out of the honeymoon suite with those words. The incredible sex didn’t soften him, or open his heart to me. It was only a part of the package. A clause in the contract. And when it came down to it, an amazing incentive to work harder and faster to produce his heir.
Could I live with that? Could I keep moving forward with this charade? Standing nearby while he conquered the sports world and I grew his baby.
He glanced at his watch. “The car should be downstairs by now. I can tell them we’re running a few minutes behind. It will give you a chance to change for our flight.”
My stomach churned. “Jer… ”
He stood from the table. He took my hand in his rough palm. “I was there, Evie. I was downstairs when you said your vows. You swore to be my wife.”
My throat tightened. I nodded. “I did.”
“And I’ve kept up my end of our bargain so far, haven’t I?”
I bit my lip. “Yes, you have.”
He had given me what I wanted over and over. I shivered as the flashes of heat pooled in my core.
He leaned down, brushing his lips against mine. “Come home with me.”
I nodded. “I want to, but what if we’re making a mistake?”
“It’s not a mistake. And no more talk about annulments.”
My eyes closed and I plummeted into the kiss like a wave crashing over a waterfall. I wrapped my arms around his neck, pulling him closer. I wanted to savor his lips. I wanted a deep powerful kiss that would silence the doubt.
“You’re mine now, Evie. You belong with me.”
I moaned when he slid open my robe, cupping my breast.
“No more back and forth.” He tugged my nipple between his fingers. “There’s only one direction for us.”
I shook my head. “No more.”
He pushed the fabric off my shoulder. He sank to his knees, pulling me to the edge of the seat. His fingers pressed into my flesh as he pried my knees wide. My breathing was already erratic. The anticipation of his next move was enough to make me squirm under his steady touch.
“You’re my wife,” he whispered along my thigh. “Exactly the way I want you to be.”
“Yes,” I whimpered.
“Mine, Evie. This is all mine.”
I looked in his eyes once more before he unleashed his tongue on me.
God help me. I was going through with this.
A bellman carried our bags into Jeremy’s apartment and abruptly left. I looked around. Ok. It was exactly what I expected. An extravagant bachelor pad with high-tech electronics everywhere. The TV filled the entire wall, along with a sound bar that stretched just as wide.
Everything was black, gray, or blue. I twisted my lips together. How could he not have a single pillow on his couch?
“What do you think?” He walked into the center of the living room. I’d never seen a coffee table made from a solid block of metal.
“It’s great,” I lied.
“I’ll give you t
he tour of your new place.”
I rubbed the sides of my arms, trying to imagine living here. The kitchen was adjacent to the oversized living room. The refrigerator appeared to be digital. It was all sleek and impersonal.
The balcony extended the entire span of the top floor apartment. The view from up here was incredible.
I followed him along the hall which disappeared between the kitchen and living room.
Jeremy had spent the entire flight from Asheville on his phone, either answering calls or working through emails. I stared out the window and tried to figure out what to tell my family. The clock was ticking on that phone call. Any minute now my mother was going to check in about the dinner shift.
Jeremy distracted me.
“On this side is my home office.” He opened a heavy wooden door.
I peeked inside. There was a single desk. It was neat and clean. His work space was the opposite of mine. I kept stacks of papers and scribbled notes around my computer. If I had an idea, I’d jot it down on the quickest thing I could find, whether that was a receipt or my waitress pad. I bit my lip nervously as we moved on.
“And this is a guest room.” He turned on the light. “It has its own bathroom. Can’t say it’s ever been used.”
“Nice.” I smiled at him. It was completely gray. But not a calming gray. Everything was steel and metallic. I wondered if no one slept there because all Jer’s overnight guests were attractive women. Women who more than likely shared his bed. I had to ignore those tugs of jealousy.
“Here’s my sports room. I keep the door closed all the time, especially at parties. I don’t let anyone in.”
My eyebrows rose. “You have a sports room?” It was the most personal room I had seen so far. It was an actual glimpse into his nature. “Why don’t you let anyone see this?”
I was mesmerized by the autographed memorabilia on the wall. There were baseballs, hats, team photos. It was an impressive collection.
“The contents of this room are worth more than the entire apartment.” He eyed me. “The door stays closed.”
I nodded. “Got it.”
We walked out. He pointed across the hall. “And this is the master.”