Total pages in book: 78
Estimated words: 75592 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 378(@200wpm)___ 302(@250wpm)___ 252(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 75592 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 378(@200wpm)___ 302(@250wpm)___ 252(@300wpm)
“And we would need a story. How we met, why we are getting married ‘so fast.’ It all has to stand up to scrutiny. Because, believe me, Nancy will scrutinize.”
“I have a memory like a steel trap.” Unfortunately. Some things were better forgotten. But I didn’t think there was a single moment of my life that was lost to space and time.
“We’d have to live together.”
“Yeah, that was kind of my whole reason for putting my name in the hat in the first place,” I reminded him.
I mean, even if this was just something for a few months, having a place to rest that cost me nothing and allowed me to work and save money for a more permanent solution than living in my car would be invaluable. Plus, of course, the protection that being married to someone as connected as Rook would offer me.
“My biggest concern is you are new in town. You have no work history here.”
“Hmm. Well, you obviously have someone to fake employment for you. Couldn’t they do the same for me? Does Nancy keep track of everyone you work with?”
“I dunno. But I don’t think she’d be able to argue with Nyx if Nyx says that, of course, you’ve been working for her for months.”
“Maybe I work remote and only come to the office once in a while for meetings. We met. Sparks flew. Hearts… what do hearts do?”
“Skip a beat? Flutter? Swoop? Your guess is as good as mine.”
“Not a romantic then, I take it.”
“More of a fun-for-the-night kind of guy. You?”
“I’m not really sure I believe in love,” I told him.
I hadn’t always been a cynic. I’d been the definition of a hopeless romantic in the past. With an emphasis on ‘hopeless.’ Until my shitty choice in men turned me into someone new entirely.
“We’re gonna have to get really good at faking it then,” Rook said.
“I’m sure we can manage.”
Rook nodded at that as he glanced out the window.
“Are there any other concerns?”
“I guess what happens after.”
“We get a divorce. If you’re worried about your money or something, I’m going to assume most of it is untraceable. You don’t have to worry about the courts finding it.”
“It’s not the money. Fuck the money.”
Wow.
What I wouldn’t give to have ‘fuck the money’ money.
“Actually, maybe that would help.”
“What?” I asked, wondering what he and his biker friends were in that he had such easy money. I mean, their clubhouse alone had to cost bank. Then they’d completely renovated it.
Was that drug money?
“If I paid you.”
“You want to pay me to marry you? When I’m willing to do it just for a place to crash? Why?”
Clearly, negotiation wasn’t my strong suit.
If the man wanted to pay me, I wasn’t exactly in the position to refuse.
“Yeah. I think we’d both feel better about the situation if we approached it like a job. I pay you for your ‘work’.”
“What kind of ‘work’ are we talking about here?” I asked, narrowing my eyes at him.
“Not that. Jesus,” he said, looking offended. “I don’t need to pay for it. I strictly mean the show we have to put on for Nancy and the trips to see my ma. Granted, we might have to get a little touchy to sell it to Nancy, but I can’t imagine we’d need to do more than hold hands or have a peck.”
I mean, I could use the money. Not necessarily to sit around on my ass. But if I worked on top of taking his money, if I really got a chance to build up a nest egg…
“I’m fine with casual contact around Nancy or other circumstances where it is important to try to sell our relationship to people.”
“I’m thinking… five grand.”
“For the whole thing?” I asked, seeing dollar signs. No, it wasn’t crazy money from most people. But for someone living in their car, who barely ever had two dimes to rub together her whole life, that was big.
“No, babe. Per month.”
“You want to pay me five grand to pretend to be your wife. Why?”
“Because I’m asking you to put your entire life on hold. You should be compensated for that.”
“Well, I’m definitely not going to turn down the money. How long do you think this will go on?”
“Good question. If we sell this and Nancy backs off and lets me go see my mom myself, I think we can part ways.”
“What if Nancy asks about me?”
“You’re visiting family. Friends. On a yoga retreat. Plenty of excuses to use. As for the divorce itself, I guess as soon as I get off parole, if that works for you. Even if we go our separate ways before then.”
“Okay. That’s fine. Like I said, I don’t really think relationships are in my future. So, it doesn’t really matter if we’re married.”
“So, we’re doing this.”
“We’re doing this,” I agreed, holding my hand out.