Tied to You (3 page)

“Okay, I’ll do it,” I say softly. Alex looks at me, surprise written across his expression. I don’t think he thought I would make a decision so quickly.

He wipes his mouth with the pristine white cloth napkin. “Good. I’ll get the papers drawn up and sent across to you first thing.” Alex looks me in the eye, almost daring me to retract my acceptance of his proposal, but I look at him steadfastly.

“If you don’t mind, I think I am going to head home,” I say, knowing that I need to leave before I change my mind. “I think I have a migraine coming and need to take some tablets,” I lie smoothly. I think Alex realises my lie when I see a shadow cross his expression, but thankfully he doesn’t call me on it. Ever the gentleman, he insists on collecting my coat, helping me into it with a practiced ease, walking me out and putting me in his car, with strict instructions to the driver to deliver me home. I look out the window at Alex standing on the pavement, hands stuffed in his pockets, his expression strangely triumphant, as the car pulls away, and I am instantly swamped with the overwhelming sensation that life is never going to be the same.

The journey home is mercifully quick, the London traffic surprisingly light for a Wednesday evening, and when the car pulls up in front of my building, I scramble for the door handle. When I try to pay for my ride, the driver insists that it is on Mr Davenport’s account. I thank him and wish him a good evening before heading inside to begin my night of contemplation over the strange situation I find myself in.

I wake to the incessant ringing of my doorbell. I fling on my robe before opening the door to find a courier standing there, holding a stack of packages. “Ms Walker?” he asks. I nod and sign for my parcels before heading back into my flat. My tiny studio is sparse; the escalation of my mother’s disease and mounting costs for her care have directly correlated with the slow selling off of my worldly goods and the downsizing of my living arrangements.

I leave the parcels on the table and then head over to the cupboard that houses the little kitchenette area. I pop the kettle on and make myself a cup of tea before sitting down to open the packages. The first box contains a smartphone, all shiny and new compared with the completely basic phone that I own. There is no note attached, but my assumption is that this is from Alex. After all, who else would be sending me things?

I plug the phone in to charge before turning my attention to a large flat box. When I finally pull out the contents, I find myself holding a small laptop and I guess it is one of those Chromebook computers that seem to be all the rage at the moment. Not sure if it needs charging as well, I plug the computer in and then turn my attention to the third and final package. Seconds later and I am holding the manuscript in my hands along with a handwritten note from Alex:

Dear Olivia,

As promised here is your manuscript. I trust that you will still honour our arrangement. We can discuss payment separately.

The laptop and phone are encrypted, so please ensure that you use them for all communication between us. You will find my details already stored on both devices, and I have set up a new email account for you.

I have emailed you a copy of the prenuptial agreement that I have had drawn up. If you are happy with the terms, you can sign it electronically and email it back.

Any questions, just drop me an email.

All the best,

Alex

The note is impersonal and business-like, which suits me fine. This is a business arrangement, after all. I sip on my tea as I wait for the laptop to load. When the home screen is finally up, I click on the email icon and then open up the email that is waiting for me.

I read through the attached document, my brain swimming as I try to read between the lines of ‘legalese’. As I understand it, the contract states that if we remain married for a full year, Alex will take care of all my debts and my mother’s care for the year that we are together and I will get a payout of a million pounds when we divorce. What surprises me most is the caveat about ‘extramarital relations’. It appears that I am perfectly fine to have a lover as long as I am discreet. Okay, I hadn’t even thought about that. It also states that Alex will also be able to make his visits to his ‘club’, though I am not sure what that means. Maybe this lifestyle thing is a secret society or something equally obscure. I find myself grinning as my imagination conjures up an image of hooded men exchanging strange handshakes in a darkened room lined with sconces.

I spend some time chewing over the document as I finish my cup of tea, trying to figure out the source of my unease. It is not the idea of being able to have another relationship whilst being married; I will be fine…it’s not like I am not used to being on my own, but a year is a long time for a guy to go without, I guess. No, it is the idea of the payoff at the end. With trembling fingers, I reach for the new phone, find Alex’s direct line and hit dial. I am relieved when he answers after a couple of rings.

“Good morning, Olivia,” says Alex smoothly. I wonder how the hell he knows it is me, but then I realise he has already programmed his number, so its stands to reason he knows mine.

“Morning, Alex. Are you okay to chat for a couple of minutes? I don’t want to interrupt your day,” I ask. Inwardly I am cursing the tremble that I hear in my voice, the nerves making themselves apparent.

“Sure thing. I guess you have had a chance to read through the document?” Alex asks, his voice calm and even, as if he is completely unaffected by the deal we are about to strike.

“Yes. And thank you for the phone and laptop, by the way. You didn’t need to,” I say, still feeling a little weirded out by Alex’s generosity. There was no need to have sent over what must be top-of-the-line gadgets; basic models would have certainly done me.

“Actually I did. I need to know that our conversations are secure. I can’t risk this kind of information getting out. So what can I help you with?” asks Alex.

“Um, the payoff…the million pounds…I don’t want it!” I blurt, anxiety flooding me.

For a moment, there is silence. “You don’t want the money?” Alex sounds incredulous.

“No, look, I appreciate your helping with my mother’s care and looking after me during the year we are married, but there is no need for anything else. Really, I don’t want it. It is not something I will have earned.” I can hear my voice rising, but I try my best to control my emotions.

“Believe me, you will have earned it by the end of the year,” Alex retorts, his voice hard and firm.

“Even so, Alex. I don’t feel comfortable with taking that kind of money. Please…I am happy to agree to everything else, but could you take that point out?” I request, and I hate myself when I hear the quaver in my voice. I don’t want to beg, but damn it, I will if I have to. This is just not something I will compromise on.

With a sigh, Alex acquiesces and promises me that a new version will be sent out within the hour. When I put the phone down, it immediately rings again, and puzzled by the unknown number showing on the screen along with uncertainty of who would actually have this number, I answer with a cautious “Hello?”

I am beyond surprised when the director of the care facility introduces herself, and my stomach twists into knots as I wait for her to start talking about chucking my mother out. Instead, she starts gushing about the very generous donation that my fiancé has made to the facility. That, combined with the news that my mother has now been moved to a superior room with a view of the garden, already prepaid for the coming year, brings silent tears to my eyes. It would seem that Alex has already been very busy this morning.

When I finally get off the phone, I am able to break down with the relief that my mother is going to be okay. I sob loudly, letting out all the stress and tension that I have been keeping locked up tight. The crying is cathartic, and by the time my tears start to dry up, I finally feel something I haven’t for a very long time…hope.

The background roar of the plane’s engines filters through my dreams. I am lying in my first-class bed with my eyes closed, contemplating the last ten days. In such a short space of time, Alex has turned my world upside down. Once the agreement was signed, he insisted I give notice on my flat, as well as my supplementary jobs, and move into his townhouse in Chelsea. I managed to stall—though in hindsight I really wonder why—so now my meagre possessions are being moved by his housekeeper while I am flying and I feel guilty that someone is being forced to deal with my mess.

My boss, Charles, was delighted with the manuscript, though I never let him know what lengths it took to get it for him. He wouldn’t have been interested anyway! Instead, I requested the holiday leave I am entitled to and let him know that I would be coming back from Australia married. I almost laughed at the look of surprise on his face when I told him, but managed to stay cool and professional.

I keep my eyes closed and continue to pretend that I am asleep. I can hear the soft tapping as Alex continues to work on his laptop, something he has done non-stop since we boarded the plane in Singapore. We have barely spoken, beyond the arrangements to get us to Australia, and even then most of that was done through his secretary. I made the first leg of the journey alone as Alex had already flown out to do business in Singapore. I had never flown long distance before and was like a kid in a candy store being in first class, though some of the novelty had worn off by the time that I met Alex in the departure lounge for our second flight.

It is not long before people start moving around more and I realise that we will be coming in to land soon. I crack open my eyes and am startled to find Alex staring directly at me, with an expression that I can’t fathom across his face. “Sorry, was I snoring?” I ask, surreptitiously wiping my chin in case any drool escaped.

“No, you are all good,” Alex says, letting out a dry laugh. “Sleep well?”

I nod as I stretch my arms above my head. Seriously, I am not sure if I could ever fly economy again if this is what it’s like in first class. The aroma of freshly baked rolls wafts through the cabin and my stomach growls embarrassingly. My body clock is all over the place and my stomach doesn’t know whether it wants breakfast, lunch or dinner, but at least I have managed to get a decent sleep. I am just hoping that the jet lag is not going to be too bad. I glance at my watch, which I seem to have reset several times already, and it tells me that it is 7 a.m. Okay, that means breakfast. I can deal with that.

I grab my bag and head into a toilet cubicle to freshen up, glad that I brought a change of clothes with me. I wash my face and then slip into a pale yellow sundress, brushing the tangles out of my choppy dark brown bob. I add a final slick of lip gloss and then make my way back to my seat to find my breakfast tray waiting for me. Yum.

“I ordered you a tea. I hope that’s okay?” Alex asks, looking at me expectantly.

“Fab, thanks, Alex,” I mumble through a bite of freshly baked croissant. Really, I need to get some manners so that I don’t just dive into my food, I think to myself. Alex attacks his breakfast with equal gusto, sipping on a cup of strong coffee. I love the aroma of freshly brewed coffee—just a shame the taste doesn’t measure up. I’ll stick to my tea, thank you very much.

Once our trays are cleared away, I settle back and stare out the window at the beautiful blue sky. I am nervous and find myself twisting my fingers in agitation. I fiddle with the large diamond currently nestling on my ring finger, unused to its new weight. “Are you okay, Olivia?” Alex asks softly, breaking through my reverie.

I offer a small smile in response. “Just a bit nervous about meeting your family. I don’t want to let you down, Alex. I know you have a lot riding on this. I have done my best to memorise all that info you sent across, but I am just worried that I will slip up at some point. I am really just about the world’s worst liar.”

“Don’t worry about it, Olivia. They are going to love you. Look, we have a couple days before the big meet-and-greet, so I will talk to my mum first about stuff, though they know about you already, and you can relax and soak up some sun. We’ll work out the details of the ceremony and stuff this week and go from there. You don’t have to worry about organising a thing.” Alex’s tone is soothing, and all at once I feel calmer. I still don’t know what super power he seems to possess that instantly makes me feel all Zen-like.

“Okay, thanks, Alex. This is not your everyday kind of situation and I really don’t want to mess it up. You have been so good to me, sorting my mother out and everything, and now it’s my turn to step up to the plate.”

“Stop worrying. Let me take care of everything, okay?” says Alex, his voice and expression firm.

“Okey-dokes,” I answer knowing that, despite its futility, I will continue to worry regardless.

We chat a bit further as I probe Alex about our destination. I had never even really heard of Perth before Alex told me that he was born there. Since then, I had bought a Lonely Planet guide and marked up the pages of things I wanted to do and see, but I have no real idea on the distances between stuff. All I really want to do is see a kangaroo…god I am such a child, I think to myself.

Before I know it, the seatbelt sign blinks on, and we start our descent. It is not long before we have landed and been whisked through passport control, and then we are walking through the doors into the arrivals hall. I can see Alex scanning the people waiting and I feel myself getting a lump in my throat as I watch people greeting each other, often with tears in their eyes. Alex clears his throat and indicates towards a tall, well-built guy with a shaved head dressed in a driver’s uniform, holding a smart placard stating
Davenport
. Sliding his hand through mine, Alex murmurs softly, “Remember, you are my blushing bride-to-be.” I find myself blushing at his words, and satisfied that I am behaving suitably fiancée-like, we walk across to greet the man.

“Alex,” he cries when he notices us.

“All right, Shane?” Alex responds and I notice his accent becoming a little stronger. “Shane, this is Olivia, my fiancée.” Alex introduces me, and I shake Shane’s proffered hand.

“Hi,” I say shyly, feeling instantly intimidated by the tall guy in front of me. He is tanned and gorgeous with striking blue eyes, everything I would normally be attracted to, but today I feel nothing.

“Well, she’s a beaut,” Shane says, smirking at me.

“Enough, she’s mine. Hands off, dude
,
” says Alex smoothly, before engaging Shane in conversation. From what I can gather, they are old friends and soon they are in a heated discussion about some sports team called the Dockers. Men.

I follow them out of the door and am stunned by the wall of heat I walk into as we step outside. Alex had warned me that Perth was hot in November, but this is like an oven. I am grateful when we finally arrive at the car and I can slide into the air-conditioned coolness. Both men pretty much ignore me as they catch up, which suits me fine, as it gives me a chance to take in the world around me. The landscape is so different from what I am used to, and I kind of feel like it is all a bit surreal. The bush is so brown compared with the green fields of England and I can see the heat shimmering off the tar road. The buildings are completely at odds with what I am used to, but I drink it all in as we get on the highway.

“So how come you guys are staying at the Crown Perth?” Shane asks, breaking me out of my musings.

“Didn’t think it would be fair to Olivia to meet the folks the minute she stepped off the plane,” Alex responds with a laugh that tells me that Shane must know the family well.

“Nice
,
” Shane says with a smirk.

Minutes later we are pulling up under a canopy at the entrance to the most luxurious hotel I have ever seen. As we drove up to the building, it glowed like a giant white pyramid and I wondered if we had been transported to another planet, the structure so alien compared with everything around it. But now all I can think about is not tripping up and embarrassing myself. As I climb out the car, I am once again assaulted by the hot, arid air. I head around to grab my small case, but before I have a chance, a bellhop is loading all the bags onto a trolley and whisking them away. I squeak in protest, but Alex assures me that they will be taken straight up to the suite. Suite? Like, not just a room?

With a fond farewell to Shane and promise of beers on the beach, Alex takes my arm and steers me to the reception desk. We are swiftly checked in and I can’t help but notice the girl blatantly checking Alex out. I have to hide my inward smirk as I place my hand, complete with the giant diamond engagement ring that Alex presented me with on the plane, on his arm and smile sweetly across at her. I feel Alex shaking slightly and I realise he is laughing silently at the scene unfolding. I look up into his grey eyes and see mirth shining out and I give him a genuine smile, probably one of my first since this whole thing started, in return. The receptionist takes this all in and I can see a faint blush under her makeup; she has obviously got the message. Ours may be a marriage of convenience, but if I am playing the role of a blushing bride, I am not going to have some random girl undermining our façade.

The receptionist, whose name tag reads
Janie
, hands over the key cards and then wishes us a pleasant stay. Alex puts an arm around me and guides me back towards the lifts, murmuring into my ear, “Well played, Olivia.” I smile and shiver slightly, despite the heat radiating off Alex’s solid frame.

“You can call me Liv if you want. That’s what my friends call me,” I murmur back.

“Liv. Hmm, I like it. Suits you.” Alex responds, his hot breath in my ear making my knees feel weak. I sternly remind myself that this is an act, this is not real, and this is not about romance or even sex. At last we reach the suite, and when Alex opens the door, I actually gasp as I take in my surroundings. The décor is plush and modern, but what really grabs me when we walk into the living area is the stunning view of the city across the river beyond the windows.

“You take the master,” Alex instructs, and when I go to refuse the look that he gives me brooks no argument.

“Wow, Alex, seriously, this is amazing. That view…” I trail off.

“Yeah, it is pretty awesome. That’s why I chose the suite. Can’t get much better than that,” Alex says softly. I am guessing that this view is familiar to him as he seems to know his way around the suite, but even so, he seems as enamoured by it as I am. I see the doors leading onto the balcony and step out, despite the heat, to get a better look.

I am not sure how long I stand there taking in the sights and smells, but I am startled back to reality when Alex walks through the doors in long board shorts and a T-shirt, his hair still damp from the shower he must have just had. “You should put some cream on,” Alex states. “You’ll burn to a crisp otherwise.” I glance down at my shoulders and see that my normally milky-white skin is already turning pink.

“Definitely, the last thing I want is to get sunburnt first day here.” I laugh. I head back indoors and make my way through to my room. Really, this is all too much. I am not used to this kind of luxury and it kind of freaks me out a bit. But as I eye the bed I can’t help but fling myself down onto it, enjoying the crispness of the sheets against my overheated skin. Despite the sleep I managed to get on the plane, it is only moments before I find myself dozing off.

~~~~~~~~~~

“Wake up, sleepyhead.” Strong fingers grip my shoulder gently and I feel myself being shaken from my deep slumber. I mumble, wondering who the hell is waking me up, as I roll over onto my back. I crack open my eyes to find Alex staring back at me, and it feels a little like déjà vu as he looks at me with that same expression he had on the plane.

“Argh, what time is it?” I ask, running a hand through my hair.

“Just after one. Thought you might be hungry.” Alex responds, just as my stomach lets out a grumble, making us both laugh.

“You thought right
,
” I say. “Yeah, food would be good.”

“Come on. I thought we could eat down at the grill by the pool. There should be a bit of a breeze and you won’t catch too much sun.” I glance down at my shoulders and can see the smattering of freckles coming through where the sun caught me earlier.

We make our way down through the hotel and find a free table at the grill. I watch the people splashing around in the water and make a note to dig out my costume later and come back for a swim; the water looks sublime. The service is brisk and in no time at all I am sipping on a wonderfully cool mango smoothie whilst Alex drinks a bottle of beer. We chat softly as Alex fills me in a little about the history of Perth while we wait for our food. When it arrives I dig into my club sandwich with delight.

“I love watching you eat,” Alex says suddenly, and all at once I feel very self-conscious. I feel my face go red and I have no idea what he means by that. “What I mean,” he clarifies, seeing my confusion, “is that you enjoy your food. So many women just order food and then push it around the plate, barely tasting anything. Yet you eat each mouthful like it is the best thing you have ever tasted. Like you might never get to eat it again.”

I can feel my cheeks glowing with my shame, but I realise I have nothing to lose by telling the truth. “That’s because this food is divine compared to what I normally eat. And usually, I don’t know when I am going to eat next.” My words are soft and I can see Alex doesn’t really understand. “Every penny I made went towards my mother’s care and sometimes there just wasn’t enough for me. So sometimes I survived on bread and soup and noodles.” I can’t meet Alex’s eyes, so I stare at the floor fixedly instead. “And sometimes there wasn’t even enough for that, so I would have to sell something just so I could pay the rent and there wouldn’t be enough for food at all.”