Marry Me for Money (19 page)

I tried to stop my grin at seeing his goofy face. “Fine.”

“Say it again,” he said, pinching my cheeks harder.

“Ouch. Okay, fine,” I said. “Fine, I’ll marry you.”

He lifted me into a big bear hug, my feet dangling midair. “Thanks, Beth. You won’t regret it. I’ll forever be indebted to you.”

He swung me around and around, and I couldn’t stop laughing.

“Put me down, Kent. I’m getting dizzy.”

For the next hour, we talked logistics and made rules for our upcoming arrangement.

I still doubted my ability to pull this off. My head was a jumbled mess as we hashed out everything while jotting notes on multiple napkins. According to Kent, we needed to play lovey-dovey. We had to make it look real, believable.

“It’s not official until we do an oath.”

“What?” he asked, looking confused. “Beth, why do you have to be so silly? We’ve already agreed. We’re just fine-tuning the details.”

“Nope. It’s not valid until we do an oath.”

“Fine, Beth. Whatever you want,” Kent said, waiting for direction.

I raised my right hand and made him raise his. “Okay, I want you to say, ‘I do,’ after each statement. Got it?”

Kent shook his head in amusement, but he still complied as he motioned with his hand for me to begin.

“Do you, Kent Plack, promise to live your life and let me live mine as we do now?”

“I do.”

“Do you promise to divorce me after one month and give me two hundred and fifty thousand dollars to pay off my debts in return for marrying you?”

“I do.”

“Do you promise not to kiss me or touch me in ways other than how friends touch?” I asked, raising my eyebrows.

He laughed. “I do.”

“Above all, Kent, do you promise not to let this ever alter our friendship?”

“I do.”

“I now pronounce us officially boyfriend and girlfriend. You may now kiss your soon-to-be pretend fiancée,” I said, offering my hand.

He leaned over and kissed the top of my hand.

“I’m gonna be out of debt. I’m gonna be out of debt,” I said in my singsong voice while doing a little shake at my own tune.

“I’m marrying a crazy person.” Kent laughed. “Tomorrow, we’ll have our first date at my parents’ house in Barrington.”

I stopped dancing as the cheery smile I had slowly left my face. “Okay,” I replied.

From the city, the drive to Barrington took forty-five minutes. Beads of sweat dampened my hands as I played pretend conversations with his parents in my head. I imagined telling them how much I was in love with their son. My stomach felt queasy with nervousness because I had no idea how I was going to pull this off. They were definitely going to see right through me, and the last thing I wanted to do was manipulate people. I sighed outwardly and looked out the window.

“We’ll be okay. You can do this. It will be fine, and when it’s over, you will be out of debt,” Kent said, keeping his eyes on the road.

I said nothing in return as I stared blankly at the cars ahead of us.

Before I knew it, we were driving past the security post and into his parents’ gated community. I wiped my palms on my jeans and let out a long sigh as I glanced at Kent. Eyes still on the road, he was quiet, and I wondered if he was having second thoughts about lying to his parents.

We turned on Plack Street, and I took in the palatial white brick mansion that spanned half a block in front of me. He stopped adjacent to the round driveway in front of the house and turned off the engine.

Facing me, he said, “Beth, just follow my lead. We have to make my parents believe that I’ve fallen madly in love with you, so play up the romance. Pretend to love me, okay?”

“Okay,” I said in a small voice, I almost couldn’t hear. I pressed my hands together on my lap and stared at him, my eyes wide. Not knowing what else to do, I waited for directions.

“Hold on,” Kent said.

He exited the car, swaggered over to the passenger side, and opened my door. I raised my eyebrows at him.

“I’d better start acting like a gentleman toward my future wife,” he said, lifting my hand to assist me from the car.

I couldn’t even laugh at his attempt to be funny as there was really nothing funny about this situation.

“It’s showtime,” Kent said as he took my hand. He entwined his fingers through mine, pulling me toward the house.

I looked down to our hands and wiggled my fingers. Holding hands with Kent for the first time felt strange, foreign. We’d only linked arms before. Even at the club, he’d grabbed my wrist, not my hand, to lead me through the crowd. The action was so intimate that it felt awkward, and I knew he felt the same because he flexed his fingers and rewrapped them around mine.

He pulled me forward. “Come on, let’s go.”

I froze in front of the door and jerked us both to a stop.

“You can do this. Come on, Beth. Just take my lead.”

Kent punched in a code and walked into the house. “Beth, come on. You have to pretend to like me. Stop looking like you’ve eaten something awful. Giggle like girls do when they are holding hands with the man they love. I’m not sure where my parents are, but you have to look happy. You need to laugh or flirt or something,” he whispered into my ear. “Come on.”

I looked at him and raised my eyebrows “Hee, hee, hee, hee,” I said, emphasizing every word. Maybe my goofiness would calm my nerves.

“Better,” he said, giving me a slight smile. His eyes searched the room for his parents as he shifted from one foot to the other.

“Okay, now, it’s your turn,” I said, turning to face him. “Come on, do it. It’s your turn to laugh like you’re holding hands with the woman you love,” I said, mimicking his words, fluttering my eyelashes. “Come on.” I poked his side with my free hand and laughed.

“Ha, ha, ha, ha.” Both dimples emerged on his cheeks as he turned his head to face me.

“Hee, hee, hee, hee,” I returned. “Now, you have to slap your side like this.” I slapped my hip with the hand he wasn’t holding while I accentuated the exaggerated giggles.

Kent shook his head as his chest rose and fell with genuine laughter. My laughter stopped when Kent’s mother and father stepped into the foyer. His mom’s face lit up as she watched the both of us interact while his father’s face was unreadable.

Kent’s laughter died down, but a small smile still remained as my reaction turned serious. I felt my heartbeat in my ears, and I was barely moving. I realized I’d stepped slightly behind Kent to hide. He jerked our entwined hands to pull me forward, so we were in line.

“Dad, you know Beth. Mother, this is Beth, my girlfriend. We were in the area.”

“Beth, it’s always good to see you,” Mr. Plack said, focusing intently on our linked hands.

I pushed a smile on my face, so forced it was almost to the point of pain.

Mrs. Plack walked toward us slowly as if she were approaching a frightened animal. She must have sensed my shyness.

“Hi, I’m Karen,” she said, offering her hand.

“Beth,” I said so softly that I doubted she’d heard me. I extended my hand to greet her.

Her eyes crinkled when she placed her soft-as-silk hand into mine. “Nice to meet you, Beth.”

Karen Plack was not as I’d originally expected. She wasn’t blonde, and she was nowhere near plastic-looking. Her hair was the darkest shade of brown, and her eyes matched Kent’s chestnut ones. She had the warmest smile, and I instantly felt my face relax.

She embraced Kent tightly, pulling him into a half-hug, as he still held my hand. “Are you staying for dinner?”

“Of course,” he replied, basking in her embrace.

“Perfect.” Mrs. Plack released him and clasped her hands together. “We’re having chicken tonight. I hope you like chicken,” she said, turning to me.

“Mom, Beth doesn’t discriminate against food. I still haven’t heard of anything she doesn’t like to eat,” Kent said.

I nudged him with my elbow before I remembered that his parents were still there and froze. Mrs. Plack cast me a look of uncontainable joy, and I wondered if Kent had ever brought anyone home. I was pretty certain she had never seen a woman do anything but fawn all over him, much less elbow him in the ribs.

“Well, I’ll have to put two extra servings of broccoli in the pot. Jack, will you please come assist me? Let’s get dinner ready.” Mrs. Plack tugged her husband’s arm and pulled him toward the kitchen. She glanced back at us one last time with a glint of happiness in her eyes.

“See? That wasn’t bad, except for your sweaty palms. Do I make you nervous?” he joked.

I turned to face him as I released our joined hands and smacked him on the shoulder. “Yeah, you wish. Your parents make me nervous. Plus, it wasn’t bad because I was mute the whole time. Wait till I start talking and stuttering. I always raise my eyebrows when I lie, too. It’s a good tell that I’m lying.” I crossed my arms in front of me, staring into the space where his parents had walked through.

“Come on, let’s go watch TV before dinner.”

“Okay,” I replied.

He grabbed my hand and led me down the hall. I surveyed the staircase filled with family photos along the wall.

“We do need nicknames. Buttercup, okay? Princess doesn’t seem fitting as you are not very high maintenance. Honey? Since you love food, a food-related nickname might be more appropriate.”

I watched him trying to suppress a smile at his not-so-funny joke.

“Listen here, quit making fun of me and my love of food.”

“Okay, I’ll try to control myself with the teasing,” he said as he pulled me down to the couch to sit next to him. He grabbed the remote. “What do you want to watch?”

“It doesn’t matter. I can’t think of anything other than having dinner with your parents.”

“Don’t stress too much. Just answer their questions, and like I said, I’ll take the lead.”

He turned the channel to CNN, and we watched TV for a while. When he excused himself to use the bathroom, I took the remote and continued flipping through the channels.

Besides his parents, I wondered if I could pull this off in front of Kendy and her mom, my Aunt Diane. Kendy would have to know the truth. She was the one who knew me the best, and she would be able to tell that I was lying. I decided that the next time I talked to her, I’d tell her the truth. I’d need someone to confide in to keep my sanity. I wondered what would happen with Brian. Kent’s proposal had been so sudden, so unexpected that I’d said yes before even thinking it through. Now that I’d made this commitment, I worried about how I would tell Brian. The TV channels continued to change as my mind was a jumbled mess.

Getting restless, I stood from the couch to look for Kent. I couldn’t sit motionless while my mind moved a mile a minute. I walked through the halls until I heard Kent and his dad talking. I couldn’t help myself from listening as I stood against the wall right by the door.

“Dad, I like her.”

“Kent, all I’m saying is to tread carefully.”

Suddenly, I felt disappointed at Kent’s father trying to convince him not to date me.

Kent started to speak, but his father stopped him. “Wait, and hear me out first. We love you, Kent. You are our only son, and because of that, we only have your best interests in mind. That being said, I want you to meet the perfect girl, and I want you to have what your mother and I have. Beth seems like an exceptional young lady. I’m glad we’ve met her and you haven’t brought the girls you usually date home. I don’t want your mother meeting those girls.”

Listening in on their conversation, I was glad that I was wrong at my initial assumption. Mr. Plack was looking out for me.

“Dad…”
“Wait, I’m not finished. You haven’t taken anyone home before so I’m assuming you guys are exclusive?” Mr. Plack asked.

I found myself leaning in closer and waiting for Kent’s answer.

“We’re exclusive.”

“I just wanted to make sure because I know how you are Kent. You’re spoiled. It’s the truth. The uglier truth is that it’s our fault that you are spoiled. In hindsight, maybe we shouldn’t have given you everything you wanted, but as parents, we wanted to. Parents are inclined to give their children the world.” Jack laughed without humor. “But you are the way you are because we handed everything over to you on a silver platter. You’re a taker, Kent. But don’t let your selfish nature promise that girl a relationship you’re not intending to give. Beth’s a good girl so don’t toy with her emotions or play her, son. That’s not you.”