To Have and to Hold (6 page)

"I need your permission to go through your closet and organize it so it's easy for you to coordinate outfits. Get rid of things that don't fit your new image. And I'd like your permission to go shopping for you. Better yet, we'll go shopping together." Her smile was magnificent and sent my heart racing.

A day of shopping would be hell…with anyone but her.

"Did you just manipulate me into letting you style me again? Permanently?" I said.

"I did, sweetie. Expertly, I might add."

I grimaced. "Are you going to get rid of all my comfy clothes?"

"Absolutely not. Only the ratty ones."

"Shit," I said beneath my breath, but I was unaccountably happy.

"So? What do you say?" She bit her lip in that adorable way.

"You have a deal. As long as you get rid of that awful gray blouse."

"You're on." She grabbed the hem of her blouse, pulled it off over her head, and tossed it away. "Satisfied?"

I swallowed hard as it fluttered to the floor, trying not to stare at her breasts that were pushed up in a lacy bra. I felt inadequate standing there in awe of her confidence. I'd spent my entire youth hiding my scrawny body. Hell, I still didn't like wearing tank tops. Was I supposed to make a move? Kay was such a flirt that it was hard to tell.

I stuffed my hand in my pocket and covered the jewelry box that was nestled there. "You can put that back on and throw it away later." Otherwise I was going to have an erection through dinner.

She picked up her blouse with a laugh and pulled it back on, messing her hair up in the process. Even with static playing with her tousled hair, she made my blood run hot.

"Better?" she said.

"Not really. You hair's standing on end."

She smoothed it with one hand, laughed, took my hand, and pulled me toward the dining table. "In other news, I was a very good girl today. I got along famously with Magda."

"Yeah. I could tell. What else did she ask you to change in me?"

"She wanted me to change something. But it wasn't you." Kay was being cryptic. "I did
exactly
what she advised me to do. Something to surprise you! She rewarded me, us, by cooking a special dinner, your favorite, and setting a special table." She waved her hand around the dinner table like a game show model revealing a prize.

"A surprise?"

She took my arm. "Yes, and I hope you like it." She leaned her head on my shoulder. She was taking our game to a whole new level.

A silver envelope with my name on it sat at my place at the table. I pointed to it. "Is that it?"

She squeezed my arm. "It is! I hope you like it. Do you know how hard it is to surprise a billionaire?"

"No idea," I said with a wink. "I only know a few."

"Shut up, showoff." She laughed. "Open it!"

I picked it up, curious. It wasn't sealed. I pulled a card out, a romantic card covered in hearts.
Our love is unstoppable…

My heart pounded into overdrive. This was a joke to her, an inside joke we shared. She was playing the game, creating evidence of our "undying love." Of the real quality of our marriage. But the joke was on me. I wished this shit was real.

I turned to the inside of the card slowly.
Undeniable. Unbelievable.

A piece of paper fluttered out. I swallowed hard, trying to cover my emotions. No girl had ever given me a romantic card before. I pointed to the word
unbelievable
, which was clearly her way of joking. "I hope not."

She laughed and handed me the piece of paper that had fallen out. "Here. This is the real gift."

I stared at it. It was product page printout from Flashionista of a custom metal wall sign that said
The Millers
in fancy script. "What am I not getting? You ordered something from our site? Who are the Millers?"

"Not the Millers, the Greens, silly!" She shook her head. "I ordered a sign that says The Greens." Her purse sat on the console table by the door. She grabbed it, pulled out her wallet, and flashed her driver's license at me. "Does this help?"

She had new temporary license. For a second my heart stopped. Had I missed her birthday already?

"Look closely." She pointed to her name.

Kayla Green.

I felt myself smiling. I couldn't keep it down. "You changed your name? I thought we agreed you wouldn't."

"Are you angry?" When she bit her lip like that, she was so damned kissable I almost had to look away before I did something stupid. "I'd hoped you'd be happy. Magda convinced me that if I were really in love with you, I'd want your name. It helps with the ruse, right?"

I picked her up and swung her around while she laughed. "Yes!"

We were both laughing by the time I set Kay down. I was breathless with desire.

"Glad you're happy! I decided Magda was right, even though she didn't know what she was really saying. The more I thought about it, the more I realized I needed to do it. As insurance in case that identity thief comes out of the woodwork."

There was my chance to tell her the identity-thief bitch had made contact. I couldn't make myself ruin the moment. I would take care of it.

"I'm no lawyer," Kay said. "But I thought that if my name is legally changed to yours, it makes our claim that
I'm
the one who married you that much stronger. There's a precedent that the state has already recognized ours as the legal union."

I was still holding her. "You're not only beautiful, you're brilliant. Best gift ever."

"You're easy to please. Wait until you see what Magda made us for dinner!" She pulled away from me.

I caught her hand. "I have a surprise for you, too." I pulled the velvet ring box from my pocket and popped it open before her as if I were proposing.

Her eyes went wide. "You got it early?"

I nodded.

She held her hand out to me like a princess expecting me to kiss her hand. "Do the honors, Mr. Green."

I set the box on the counter. Her fingers were slight and soft in mine as I slid the ring onto her finger.

She pulled her hand back and held it up to admire the ring. "It's beautiful! Completely dazzling. Everyone will be
so
jealous!" She threw her arms around me and gave me a throwaway kiss. Kay was easy with her affection.

I would have given anything to keep her that happy. "Anything for you, Mrs. Green. It's beautiful on your hand."

"Yes, but you're going to take this back in a year." She made an exaggerated pouty face. "It's not part of my settlement."

I wanted her to have that ring to remember me by for the rest of her life. Even more, I wanted her to stay. A million beautiful girls wouldn't make up for her. I shrugged. "Am I? Taking back the wedding ring isn't standard divorce procedure. The ring's yours, now and always." Along with my heart.

She gave me a seriously heart-melting smile and held her hand up to admire her ring again. "I'm already one of those girls, the ones who can't stop looking at their rings!" She paused. "Where's yours? Was it ready, too? Show me your hand."

I flashed my bare hand. "It was. I picked it up, but I haven't put it on yet. That's your job." I pulled small plastic bag with the ring from my pocket.

"Just a baggie? No fancy jewelry box?" She snatched it from me and dumped it into the palm of her hand. She held it close to inspect it, studying the inside of the band. She smiled as if she was up to no good. "I called up after we left the store and had it inscribed. Have you read it?"

"And ruin the surprise?" To be honest, I hadn't given my ring more than a cursory look before I jammed it in my pocket.

She held it up for me to read the tiny writing. "Go ahead. Read it out loud."

"Love, Your Trophy Wife 24/7/365, and it has our wedding date." I grinned at her joke. Yes, I got it. We had a year. "Romantic."

"And cryptic. No one but us will get the inside joke. I couldn't very well say decoy wife. Trophy wife was the best I could do. I hope you're not offended. Everyone already thinks I'm out for your money. This is my way of saying,
In your face, suckers
." She laughed.

"Nice."

"Give me your hand." She slid my ring on. "With this ring, I promise to play the role of your loving wife for an entire year."

My new ring felt heavy on my hand, weighed down by the end date I was trying to avoid. "I may have had something inscribed in your ring, too."

Her eyes lit up. "Did you?" She pulled hers off and looked for the inscription with an eager expression. "Not for Pawning," she read aloud. She looked up at me with an incredulous, stunned expression.

Before I could react, she gave me a sudden, playful,
hard
push to the shoulder that caught me off guard and sent me staggering back a step.

"You're awful!" But she was smiling. "Simply terrible." She slid the ring on again. "You were going to let me keep the ring all along?"

I nodded. "Gotcha! You have the ring, but you'll never profit from it, evil woman."

"I suppose I deserve that for hinting at it before." Her shoulders started to shake, as if she was holding a laugh in. A giggle escaped. And then suddenly we were both laughing. And laughing. Until we couldn't stop.

Finally, Kayla was holding her sides. "Stop! Stop laughing so I can stop. Ouch! I actually laughed until it hurts, you turd."

I wiped my eyes. "Got you!"

"Oh, crap!" she said, as if just remembering something. "Magda's dinner will be ruined if we don't get it on the table!"

As she headed to the kitchen, she paused to pick up the dark pink ring box. "This isn't the jewelry store's box." She frowned, as if she was puzzling something through. She stroked the box. "This is a custom box." She looked to me for confirmation with awe in her voice.

I shrugged as if it were no big deal. She didn't know, she couldn't know, that I was a huge romantic. I would have shown her every facet of that side of me if she'd shown any indication she would welcome it.

"Is this our supposed wedding color?"

I nodded. I might have screwed up with the gesture. Shown a little too much sensitivity.

She stroked the box. "Soft. This is real velvet, not some cheap crap."

I nodded again. I knew Kay would recognize the quality. "Vintage velvet. At least forty to a hundred years old. So the saleswoman assured me. Limited edition. You can't get those boxes anymore. The company who makes them ran out of that color of vintage velvet."

"Oh, Jus." She wiped her eyes.

I couldn't tell whether she was touched by my gesture, or still wiping away tears of laughter.

"But Jus…it's deep pink. You can see it?"

I nodded.

She looked away before I could read her face. "Dinner!"

She set the box down and raced to the kitchen and pulled dinner out of the oven. "Oh, and before I forget, I had lunch with Britt today. She's throwing us a party Saturday night. I accepted for both of us. I hope that's okay?" She set a platter on the table.

"After this surprise? Anything for you." And I meant it.

"Dinner with my parents on Friday. Party with my friends on Saturday. It's like our first round of midterms. After that, we relax and unwind!"

"Sounds good to me." I joined her in the kitchen and helped her set out the rest of the meal. "How's Britt? Did you fool her and her emotional genius?" I asked as we sat at the dinner table.

Kayla shrugged. "She's not entirely onboard yet. We ran into Lazer, though, and that distracted her."

By the nervous way Kay acted, I wasn't so sure Britt was the only one who was distracted. Damn it. I was going to have to do something about Lazer.

K
ayla

Even with that crazy inscription, Justin's ring was the most gorgeous thing I'd ever owned. It sparkled on my finger in a way that made me incredibly happy. It would have made me a whole lot happier, if, you know, the marriage had been real and he'd been the one.

As for Jus, we took the colorblindness test online together. The test was simple, but impressive. You were shown a large circle with lots of a little circles of various colors inside it, and a number made out of one or two shades of circles. The test asked what number, if any, you saw. As the test began, I had to bite my tongue not to laugh at Jus. A number would be clearly visible to me, but he either didn't see it at all, or had to squint to make it out. And then he was unsure of his guess.

It was funny. Weird, and cruel, that human nature makes us laugh at other people's inabilities. As the test progressed, it learned from Justin's answers and quickly homed in on his particular color weakness. And then a strange thing began to happen. Jus could see numbers in the circles that I couldn't. Which was a revelation to me—in certain color situations, his vision was more adept than mine. I began to wonder if I was the colorblind one.

In the end, the test determined he was a moderate deuteranope, which meant he had a red-green deficiency. As a side note, my vision was normal. But Jus was more likely to confuse mid-reds with mid-greens, light blues with lilac, bright greens with yellows, and, most noticeably so far, pale pinks with light gray. And obviously, certain shades of tan/brown with greens. Which explained why he believed peanut butter was green.

The result came as no surprise. I made a note to pick out clothes for him that would favor his coloring and be pleasing to him. I also noted, with a heavy heap of regret, that the pinks I so loved and looked good in were probably going to have to be banished from my wardrobe for the next year.

On Friday evening, I dressed for a casual dinner at my parents' house. Mom had been driving me crazy with texts. First complaining in a braggy way about the commotion the news crews were causing in the neighborhood. How they'd accosted Dad and her when they left for work on Wednesday morning. And how they were being bombarded with requests for interviews. And what could they really say about their new son-in-law when they hadn't seen him in years? And had never been more than casually introduced to him then?

And, finally, asking what Justin's favorite foods were and whether he had any food allergies. And you know what? I'd been peeved that I had to text him and ask. There were so many things a woman gaga in love with him should have known that I had no clue about. And he didn't text right back. And I'd resorted to asking Magda.

When Jus had said he was a workaholic, he hadn't been kidding. On Thursday night, he came home after I'd gone to bed. On Friday morning, he was once again gone before I woke up. Even though I set my alarm for six so I could see him off. If I hadn't woken briefly in the middle of the night and seen him next to me, I might have assumed he hadn't come home at all.

If I were the insecure type, I would have wondered whether he was avoiding me. As it was, I had to fight bouts of insecure jealousy when I thought about Ophelia working late with him, too, trying to win him away. As I said before, I don't share well, especially not my men.

He arrived home from work with just minutes to change into the jeans and shirt I'd picked out for him, and for me to give him a quick beard trim. When I was done with him, I thought he commanded attention. Any girl checking out guys would spend some time giving him the eye, even without knowing he was filthy rich.

It was June, but a series of showers had been sweeping through along with a cold front. Any native Seattleite will tell you that June can be as cold as March, sometimes colder. I dressed in jeans and a summery, floaty top from Flashionista in a light mauve that Jus said he saw and liked. I'd bought it before our "marriage." I grabbed a sweater on the way out.

Jus owned half a dozen cars. He was in the mood to drive.

"Which car will impress your parents the most?" he asked as we stood before them.

"I know nothing about cars," I said. Which was absolutely true. "You pick."

He beeped open a sporty black two-seater and held the door open for me.

Once we were on our way, I briefed Jus. "You've met my parents a couple of times, so this should be no big deal. You know what to expect."

He raised an eyebrow. "I met them briefly twice. Once when they visited you at school and once when they stopped by to see Dex's parents and I was visiting. Both times weren't much more than introductions."

"You impressed them on the phone," I said. "As we agreed before, just don't overdo it tonight. I don't want them to get too attached to you." I paused. "We'll need to stop on the way and get some flowers and wine or something. I thought of it earlier and forgot, and then thought it's just as easy to pick something up on the way. You and I want to impress them a little with our thoughtfulness."

He grinned. "Already taken care of."

I stared at him. "What?"

"I had flowers and champagne delivered to them earlier today. With a note saying how much I was looking forward to the evening."

Crap. I stared at him, stunned. I imagined him asking Ophelia to take care of it. Or maybe she reminded him in the first place. Wasn't that what efficient PAs did? I didn't want my parents having flowers she'd ordered them. I gave him the death glare. Partly because of Ophelia's probable involvement and partly because he was being too damned thoughtful with or without it. "Anything else I should know?"

He grinned. "This car is guaranteed to impress them with its subtle elegance."

"Shut up!" I laughed. The car was anything but subtle, in my opinion.

"Okay, a few facts you should know. My parents are casual people and usually confident. Mom's a corporate lawyer and Dad's a general practitioner. They're comfortably upper middle class. But they've never met a billionaire before. They're going to be out of their element, especially since you're their son-in-law now. It's going to be an awkward dynamic, as you heard on the phone when I told them about you. Usually the parents are in the more secure financial position."

He nodded, and, frankly, looked a little nervous. I was trying to put him at ease. He had the power position here.

"The goal tonight is to get
mildly
acquainted with them. Get on their good side, but don't overdo it. You don't want them to get too fond of you. You're only their son-in-law for a year. After that, sorry, but you're going to be the scapegoat. I'm going to have to pin the demise on our marriage on someone, and they'll take my side no matter what, so it may as well be you."

"Gee, thanks."

I laughed. "Oh, shut up! Your parents will do the same and blame me. Only you'll be a hero in their eyes once they find out I only walk away with a paltry ten mil."

He opened his mouth like he was about to say something.

I cut him off. "A few things to keep in mind. Avoid the usual taboo topics like politics. Dad
loves
to talk politics and will bait you and try to draw you into a political debate so he can eviscerate you. He was a champion debater. Don't fall for his traps."

I took a quick breath. "Mom and Dad love games, board games especially. But they are cutthroat and show
no
mercy. Absolutely none. At some point, they'll want us to play something. If that happens, follow my lead. We'll try to escape without playing. If we somehow get trapped into it, I'll angle for the most cooperative game I can. Though they really only own one, Pandemic. Which I gave them. Dad, being a doctor, can sometimes be talked into playing it—"

Jus grabbed my hand. "Slow down. It's okay, Kay. Everything will be fine. I can handle myself."

I was more nervous than I thought. I squeezed his hand. "We should have brought Data with us. She'd distract Mom and Dad."

Half an hour later, we were walking up to my parents' front door. Mercifully, there were no news crews in sight. The door swung open before I could let us in.

"Kayla!" Mom pulled me into a hug while Dad waited his turn and Jus stood off to the side.

I hugged Dad and looped my arm through Justin's. "Mom and Dad, you remember Justin."

He offered his hand to Dad while Mom studied him.

"This is awkward," Jus said to Dad in that startlingly deep, smooth voice of his. "Now that I'm married to your daughter, what would you like me to call you, Mr. Lucas? We should get that settled straight off. So I don't have to do contortions trying not to use your name or call you Hey You."

Dad laughed, obviously charmed. Mom tittered nervously as Jus hugged her warmly. And I wondered where the hell Jus had gone to charm school.

"What is Kayla calling your parents?" Mom asked.

I shrugged. "I haven't met Justin's dad. I call his mom Diana."

"You've met his mom?" Her voice was heavy on the accusation:
Before we got to see Justin?

Oops! I'd slipped up and put Mom in a huff. "She dropped by unexpectedly." Wasn't I supposed to be the suave one here?

My response put Mom at ease, but only a little. Although there was a gleam of admiration for Diana in her eye that indicated she wished she'd thought of that. While at the same time, she smirked as if to say she and Dad were classier than to surprise attack their new son-in-law.

"Call me Debbie, if you like, Justin," Mom said. "But I really
hope
you'll call me Mom."

Damn. Damn, damn, damn. There was that competitive edge showing, and I'd walked right into it.

Jus beamed at her. "It would be my pleasure…Mom."

She beamed back. I wanted to smack them both. This would not end well.

"I was going to suggest Don or Doc. Guess that makes me Dad now," Dad said. But he was smiling broadly.

Mom had been taking Justin's measure. "It's been at least several years since we've seen you. You've…matured a lot since we last saw you, Justin."

His answering laugh was deep and sweet. "You mean I've grown. About six inches. And a beard. It startles everyone."

Mom and Dad laughed with him. But I could tell Mom was not a fan of the bushy beard. Close-cropped, styled beards could be sexy, in Mom's opinion, and mine. Yes, I'd trimmed Justin's beard, but it was still just a well-trimmed bush that covered his face. I was still holding out a faint hope that once the heat of summer set in, he'd shave it for comfort.

"Kayla, let's see that famous ring that's been on the news!" Mom held her hand out for mine.

I wiggled my ring finger and extended my hand like a queen for Mom to admire.

As Mom took my hand in hers, she gasped softly. "The pictures in the news didn't do it justice. It's much more gorgeous in person." She gave me a quick hug.

I was both touched and worried that Mom had been following the news about us so closely. I felt the tight wire we were walking beneath my feet as keenly as if it were real. My chest squeezed tight. The stress was killing me.

A week ago, I'd just been another dumped girl. Now every move I made was subject to scrutiny, even with my parents'. My life really was a stage, a constant act. And I had continuous stage fright. At any minute I worried I'd slip up and forget my lines.

"Come on in." Mom touched Justin's arm. "Thank you for the gorgeous flowers you sent this afternoon. Roses and daylilies are my favorite!" She turned to me. "Kayla, you'll have to come see them. Your husband is the most thoughtful young man."

Why was she so certain I had nothing to do with them? We followed her to the dining room, where the flowers took center stage on the table. It was, indeed, an awesome bouquet in a vase that matched the colors and décor of the house.

A chill crawled down my back. If this selection was pure dumb luck, I'd eat my purse. He had to have researched what Mom liked and what the house looked like. Had I posted any pictures on social media? I didn't think so. Had Mom? I honestly couldn't remember. His computer skills were a little too awesome and powerful.

Mom leaned in and whispered for my ears only, "I know you must have guided him in his choices, but it's still sweet of him to be thoughtful enough to ask what we like and what our style is."

Hers was a natural assumption. Why
hadn't
he asked me?

She stepped back and spoke in a normal volume. "Look at the card Justin sent with it." Mom handed me one of those Flashionista thank-you cards that came with your order. Handwritten in Justin's block printing was a note.
Thanks for raising such a beautiful woman to be my bride. Looking forward to dinner. Love, Justin

I wanted to gag. And kill Jus. So that's why she knew I, at the very least, hadn't sent the note. It sounded nothing like me. It was so thoughtful that it was sickening. And the writing was clearly Justin's.

And that's the way it went through dinner. Jus turned on charm I didn't know he possessed while my parents grilled him mercilessly. He answered all their questions with as much aplomb and acumen as I imagined he'd handled his rounds with angel investors. He looked at me adoringly. Held my hand. Looped his arm around me. He made them fall in love with him through the sheer magnetism of his will and personality. Damn if I knew how he did it. Somewhere along the way to becoming a billionaire, he'd developed charisma.

I kept trying to signal him to tone it down. He ignored me. He was suddenly the son they'd never had and always wanted. He laughed at Mom's horrible corporate contract law jokes and tales of her nerdy coworkers. Smiled and sympathized at Dad's stories about all the things he'd pulled out of kids' nostrils and ears over the years. He complimented Mom's cooking, the house, and her outfit. Somehow without laying it on too thick.

He looked at me adoringly, beaming like a guy in love who simply couldn't force the smile down. Like a groom at his wedding.

Halfway through dinner, Mom turned to Jus. "Justin, I'm dying to know—how did you propose?"

Jus paused with a fork halfway to his mouth.

I set my glass down harder than I'd intended. "Yeah, tell them the story, sweetie. It's so cute." Me sick with food poisoning while he married an imposter. It was the stuff of romantic fairy tales.