“Good for whom? It was embarrassing.”
“It was advertising. The name of the game. In one move, not only did the entire company get to see the dissolution of my relationship with David, they also found out about us. By the time we get to Graham’s place tomorrow, he will have heard about it. He’ll know I punched David for talking trash about the woman I love. It’s perfect. I couldn’t have planned it better if I tried.”
I shook my head, flabbergasted. I never would have considered what just happened as “perfect.”
“Relax, Katharine.” He snorted as he skillfully wove in and out of traffic. “You’re done. You don’t have to go back there. I’ll call my lawyer and make sure we send the first volley to cut David off at the knees.”
“First volley?”
“David hates negative publicity for the firm. If he thinks I’m going after him for broken promises and an unhealthy work environment, he won’t try anything. It’s just for insurance.”
I sighed and rested my head on the cool glass.
“You have the afternoon free. Maybe you should do some shopping.”
“Must I?”
“Yes. I told you—I need you to look the part. I have a personal shopper lined up. I’ll call her and arrange for you to see her this afternoon. We can stick with our plans for the evening.”
“Great.”
He turned up the music, tapping out a rhythm on the steering wheel, ignoring my sarcasm. I hated shopping—mostly because I could never afford to buy much. Maybe not having to pay the bill, it would be fun.
I hoped so. After this morning, I needed something to distract me.
Not long after we arrived back at the condo, Richard signed for an envelope. He opened it and thrust a black credit card at me.
“What’s this?”
“For you to shop.”
I looked at the face of the card, seeing my name emblazoned in silver.
“How did . . . ? Never mind.” I sighed. It was obvious, whatever Richard wanted, he got.
He sat down, reaching for the card. “Sign it and use it. I called Amanda Kelly—she’s the personal shopper I told you about. She’s expecting you in an hour.”
“Fine.”
“What’s the matter?”
“Couldn’t she send me a dress for tomorrow? I’m sure you’ve already informed her exactly what you want me to wear.”
He shook his head. “This isn’t solely for tomorrow, Katharine. I meant what I said. Get rid of the clothes you’ve been wearing. I want you in dresses, well-tailored suits, smart outfits. Decent shoes. A whole new wardrobe.”
“Do I have to toss my underwear, as well?” I questioned, and even I could hear the snark.
For a minute he blinked, then started to laugh. “You do have a little backbone in there somewhere. Yes. Toss it. All new. All in keeping with the role you’ll be playing.”
I rolled my eyes, taking the card. “Fine. It’s not as if anyone will see my undergarments, anyway.”
“What is it with you?” He growled. “I’ve never had to beg another woman to spend my money. Usually, they can’t wait to get their hands on my bank account. Why are you so fucking stubborn?”
I stood up. “Then get one of them to play your loving fiancée in this ridiculous farce.” I began to walk away, stopping when his long fingers wrapped around my arm.
“Katharine.”
I shook my arm free. “What?” I spat.
He held up his hands. “I don’t understand the problem with outfitting you.”
Wearily, I rubbed my hand over my eyes. “If tomorrow doesn’t give you the result you want, you will have spent a lot of money for nothing. All of this craziness will have been for nothing.”
“All of this craziness?”
I blinked away the tears I felt forming. “Pretending we’re engaged. Taking me out of my home, throwing away both our jobs, subjecting yourself to having to spend time with me. Even David knew how much you disliked me, Richard. How is this possibly going to work?”
He shrugged. “If, and it’s a big if, it doesn’t work, you’ll have a bunch of pretty new clothes to wear to your next job. Let’s be honest—your hovel wasn’t much of a home; we’ll find you something far better. Think of it that way.” He stepped forward. “And, frankly, Katharine, perhaps I judged you too quickly. I don’t dislike you. In fact, I rather enjoy listening to you argue with me.”
I didn’t know what to say to his unexpected declaration.
“I think, perhaps, we need to call a truce. You’re right on one thing. We need to present a united front, and we can’t do that if we’re on edge with each other. So I have an offer to extend.”
“Okay?” I asked, almost fearful of what he was about to say.
“You go shopping, spend my money. Spend an indecent amount. Consider it a gift for all the lousy things I’ve done over the past year. I’ll make my calls, and some arrangements I need to take care of. When you get home, we’ll spend the evening talking and getting to know each other a little more. Tomorrow, we’ll face the day as a couple. Okay?”
I chewed on my cheek as I studied him. “Okay.”
“Good. One more thing.”
“What?”
He held out his hand, a small box in his palm. “I want you to wear this.”
I stared at the box, not making a move.
“It won’t bite you.”
“What is it?” I whispered, already knowing the answer.
“An engagement ring.”
When I still didn’t move, he sighed in frustration. “You had better not expect me to get down on one knee.”
“No!” I gasped.
“Then take it.”
My hand trembled as I reached for the box and opened it. A large solitaire in a white gold, vintage setting, shimmered under the light. It was exquisite.
I lifted my gaze to his.
“I described you to the sales woman and said I wanted something simple yet stunning. There were larger ones, but for some reason, I thought you would like this ring.”
His odd, kind words touched me. “I do.”
“Well, put it on. It’s part of the image.”
I slid it on my finger, staring at it. It was a perfect fit, but still it felt strange on my hand.
“I’ll take good care of it until it’s time to give it back.”
He snorted. “I’m sure you’ll try. Given your clumsiness, I’ve insured it.”
I rolled my eyes, the moment of being touched passed in that second.
He looked at his watch. “Okay. The car will be outside waiting for you. Go get yourself presentable.”
He turned and left the room.
I picked up my purse, the ring catching the light.
Well, it seemed I now had a fiancé.
I was engaged to a man who disliked me, but was willing to overlook it so he could get a new job and piss off his old boss.
Certainly, that was the stuff dreams were made of.
KATHARINE
THE AFTERNOON WAS A WHIRLWIND. Richard had indeed told Amanda precisely what he wanted, and the list was endless, it seemed. Dresses, pants, skirts, blouses, suits—a vast array of materials and colors drifted by me. There were also new bathing suits, lingerie, and nightgowns. Item after item was tried on, discussed, and either discarded or placed on the ever-growing pile of clothes to keep.
Thankfully, after watching me for a short time, the footwear she picked out was all low-heeled. Still stylish, she assured me, but I had a better chance of staying upright.
The last straw was the exercise clothing she showed me. By that point, I was beyond exasperated. I couldn’t fathom a time I would need to have expensive workout clothes. He had a private gym in his apartment for God’s sake. When she indicated it was on Richard’s list, I threw up my hands and told her to add whatever she felt was suitable. I was done.
I walked out of the store, carrying the outfit for the next day, wearing a new pair of jeans and a silk T-shirt in a ric
h red color. Richard, apparently, didn’t want to see me arrive back in my “old stuff.”
I was silent on the car ride back, overwhelmed and tired. I carried my packages up to the condo, letting myself in with my keys. I heard music coming from down the hall. I knew Richard was busy working out, so I hung my new dress in the closet, put away the few other items I had brought back with me, then called the home to check on Penny. Her primary nurse told me she was sleeping, but it hadn’t been a good day, so I shouldn’t visit. Sadness engulfed me as I sat looking out the window. I hated days like today; however, she was right. Going would only upset me further.
Instead, I went back downstairs and rummaged around in the kitchen. It was well equipped, yet held little food except for some fruit and a few condiments in the cupboards and refrigerator.
“Looking for something?”
I straightened up, startled. Richard was slouched against the doorframe, a towel draped around his broad shoulders. His skin glistened with a thin sheen of sweat, his hair damp, and he still looked perfect.
“You don’t have much food.”
“I have no idea how to cook. I do takeout, or my housekeeper leaves me something.”
“Housekeeper?” He hadn’t mentioned having a housekeeper.
He nodded, taking a drink from the bottle of water he was holding. “I need to hire one. The last one left about two weeks ago.” He waved his hand. “They come and go.”
I hid my amusement. That news wasn’t surprising.
“I cook.”
He smirked. “So you mentioned.”
I ignored his sarcastic tone. “I can keep the place clean and do the shopping and cooking.”
“Why?”
“Why not?”
“Why would you want to?”
“Richard,” I started patiently, “I’m not working now. I have lots of time on my hands. Why would you want to hire someone else when I’m here anyway?”
His brow furrowed as he thought about it.
“It would seem natural to other people.” At his confused look, I explained. “That I would look after our home. That I would look after, ah, you.”
He scratched the back of his neck, obviously unsure. “Yeah?”
“Yes.”
“Okay—for now. Use your card to pay for everything.”
I nodded.
“Anything you need to keep the place clean. Buy it. If you need help, get it.”
“Okay.”
I felt relieved. It would feel normal to do the shopping and make dinner. Stay busy and clean the condo.
“How did your call go with the lawyer?”
“Good.” He drained the bottle, tossing it in the recycle bin in the corner. “How was your shopping?”
I rolled my eyes. “Quite the list you gave her.”
“I told you I wanted new everything for you.”
“Well, you got it.”
He stepped closer, rubbing the sleeve of my T-shirt with his long fingers. “I like this.”
“Good. You bought it.”
“Did you spend lots of my money?”
“Tons. Pretty sure I put you in the poor house.”
To my surprise, he smiled. A real smile that lit up his eyes, making him appear boyish and younger. “Finally, you do what I tell you to do.”
I snorted.
He reached past me and picked up an envelope. “Here.”
Gingerly, I took the envelope; it felt hard and bulky under my fingers. “What is it?”
“The keys to your car.”
“My car?” I squeaked.
“I told you I’d get you one. It’s in space 709, beside my other two. Your pass is in there, as well. It gets you in and out of the garage.”
“What . . .?”
“It’s a Lexus. Safe. Reliable. It’s red—like your shirt.”
“Unnecessary.”
“No. It is needed. It’s all part of the image, Katharine. We’re selling us as a couple—the details are important. Remember that.” He shrugged. “It’s got good resale value anyway, when this is done. If you don’t want to keep it, you can sell it. Either way, it’s yours. Part of the deal.”
I shook my head. “How can you afford all this? I know you were well paid, but not that well paid.”
His face darkened. “When my parents died, I inherited a great deal of money.”
“Oh. I’m sorry, Richard. I didn’t know. Did they pass recently?”
His shoulders tightened; his stance tense. “Fourteen years ago. It wasn’t a great loss, so save your sympathy. It was the first time their actions benefitted me.”
I wasn’t sure how to respond to his statement.
“So, don’t worry about the money.”
He turned and walked out of the kitchen. “I’m going for a shower, then I’ll order dinner. I left you a list on the table; you can look it over. We’ll start talking when I come back. We need to get this all down pat.”
“More image work?”
“You got it. Find a good bottle of red in the rack. I think I’m going to need it.” He threw another smirk my way. “If you know a good one when you see it, that is.”
On that pleasant note, he left me glaring after him.
RICHARD
When I returned, Katharine was perched on one of the high chairs. There was a bottle of wine opened, and she was sipping from a glass, studying the papers in front of her. I drew in a deep breath, and crossed the room. I had her list with me, so we could discuss the details. We needed to cram as much of our histories in tonight to bluff our way through tomorrow. We had to convince Graham we were the real deal. I knew it was going to be a long evening.
I was still tense from earlier—it happened every time I spoke about my parents, no matter how brief. I hated thinking about them, and my past.
Katharine’s bright eyes met mine. Her hair fell over her shoulder, and I couldn’t help notice how the red suited her pale complexion and deep color of her hair. Wordlessly, I poured a glass of wine and sat beside her, pushing those strange thoughts out of my head.
“Dinner will arrive soon. I ordered you some cannelloni. I hope you like it.”
She nodded. “It’s one of my favorites.”
I held up my list with a smirk. “I know.”
I took a sip of my wine, enjoying the flavor. She had picked one of my favorites.
I tapped the papers on the counter. “Shall we begin?”
Hours later, I emptied the last of the wine into my glass. I was exhausted. Never one to talk about my past, or reveal too many personal details, it had been a torturous evening. Fortunately, since we had a lot of ground to cover, I didn’t have to delve too deep into a lot of things. She knew I was an only child, my parents were deceased, and all the pertinent facts: where I went to school, my favorite activities, colors, foods, likes and dislikes. I was somewhat surprised to find she already knew many of those facts—she was more observant at the office than I gave her credit for being.
I learned a great deal of new information about Katharine. Whereas she was observant, to me, she had only ever been a shadow on the edge of my world. She was as reticent to discuss her past as I was, but told me enough so I could make do. She also had no siblings—her parents died when she was a teenager and she lived with her aunt who now resided in a care home. She didn’t finish post-secondary school, came to work for the Anderson Inc. as a temporary job, and never left. When I questioned why, she stated, at the time she was undecided about her future and chose to work until she knew what she wanted. I let it go, even though it seemed strange. I had no idea how her mind worked.
I sat down with a sigh. Katharine tensed beside me, and I leaned my head back, regarding her with ill-concealed impatience. “I think we have the basic facts down, Katharine. I even know the name of your favorite hand cream should that come up.” Her lists had been far more detailed than mine. “However, none of this is going to work if you stiffen every time I come close to you.”
“I’m not used t
o it,” she admitted. “You, ah, usually put me on edge.”
“We’re going to have to be close,” I informed her. “Lovers are. They touch and caress. They whisper and exchange glances. There’s a familiarity that comes with being intimate. I have a feeling the Gavin family is an affectionate bunch. If I can’t reach for your hand without you flinching, no amount of facts will help us with Graham watching.”
She fiddled with her wineglass, running her fingers over the stem repeatedly. “What are you saying?”
“I’m going to touch you, whisper things in your ear, stroke your arm, even kiss you. Call you sweetheart, other endearments. Like any other couple in love.”
“I thought you said you’ve never been in love?”
I snickered. “I’ve done enough ads about it, I can fake it. Besides, I’ve been in lust enough, it’s basically the same.”
“Sex without love is just body parts and friction.”
“There’s nothing wrong with that kind of friction. Sex without love is the way I like it. Love does things to people. It changes them. Makes them weak. Complicates things. I have no interest in that.”
“That’s just sad.”
“Not in my world. Now back to the task at hand. Are you prepared not to run screaming when I suddenly touch you, or kiss you? Can you handle it?” I rapped my knuckles on the lists sitting in front of us. “We need more than facts to be successful.”
She lifted her chin. “Yes.”
“Okay, we need to try something.”
“What do you suggest?”
I stroked my chin with my finger. “Well, since fucking for fucking sake is off the table, I guess we need to figure that out. Unless you want to try?”
She rolled her eyes, but her cheeks darkened. “No. Suggest something else.”
I suppressed my chuckle. She was entertaining at times. I held my hand out, palm up, in invitation. “Work with me.”
Slowly, she slipped her hand into mine, and I closed my fingers around her small palm. Her skin was cool and soft, and with a grin, I squeezed her fingers before letting go. “See, I didn’t burn you or anything.”
The Contract Page 7