The Hate Vow by Nicole French

Fourteen

Two hours later, everyone was about ready to throw the entire deal out the window. Literally every condition that Skylar had added to the standard de Vries prenuptial agreement had been shredded by Celeste and her lawyer, who, as far as I could tell, basically served as a very expensive lap dog to his ailing mistress. Skylar herself had stopped looking like the formidable attorney she was and had transformed into an angry, bespectacled strawberry about forty-five minutes ago. Even Eric looked like he wasn’t above murdering the old goat.

“Absolutely not.” Celeste stated clearly for the tenth time in her sharp yet quavering voice. Her eyes pinioned Eric while she sucked on her oxygen. “I see no reason why the family should have to sacrifice millions simply because you decided to take a ride on the Yangtze River.”

Her lawyer shook his head and buried it in his hands. He looked like he needed a stiff drink.

“I think that’s in China, Mrs. de Vries,” I corrected her. “Not Korea.”

Skylar looked at me quizzically. She knew my knowledge of Asian geography was close to zip.

I shrugged. “I liked the book Ping when I was a kid.”

Now everyone looked at me as if I was crazy.

“What?” I asked. “Cute yellow duck? Gets lost on the big bad Yangtze River? Spends the night out before he goes home and gets a spanking for being naughty?”

Of course, my eyes met Eric’s right on the word “spanking.” And of course his lips twitched in that delicious way. They had been for the last two hours. It was tempting. And annoying.

“Jane,” Skylar whispered.

One look at her disapproving face, and I knew every dirty thought I had was scribbled over mine. And by Eric’s raised brow, he could see it too.

I cleared my throat.

“Why don’t you have a better lawyer?” Celeste demanded.

Skylar pressed her lips together.

Eric rolled his eyes. “For the twentieth time, Grandmother, I am a lawyer. Jane’s a lawyer too. And Skylar and I are majority stakeholders of the same firm. I trust her to do this right.”

“Well, perhaps you should reevaluate that, Eric,” said the old goat as she shoved the papers back toward him. “Considering the way she managed to finagle herself into the Sterling fortune without any kind of proper arrangement, it’s clear she’s an expert in the art of extortion.” The old woman’s sharp eyes narrowed at Skylar. “I assure you, missy, that won’t fly around here. My Eric’s got a whole family to protect him against the likes of you.”

Skylar’s bright green eyes looked like they were about to spout flames. Eric groaned, and I just covered my face, trying not to laugh.

“I think maybe we should take a break,” I said, reaching over Eric’s lap to touch Skylar’s knee. “Okay, missy?”

For whatever reason, I hadn’t been terribly annoyed by the proceedings. Maybe I should have been—after all, I was the one being framed as a gold digger.

But the longer I sat with Celeste, the more I, well, felt kind of sorry for her. She weighed maybe eight-five pounds soaking wet, was clearly in a lot of pain, if the etched lines over her forehead were any indication, and genuinely seemed to want to protect Eric’s interests when she was gone. The way she had forced him back into the last months of her life was awful, yes. But I wasn’t sure I blamed her. She was dying. She was grasping for what little control she had left. And in the moments when he turned away, that mask of imperiousness dropped a little. Fondness crept into those beady eyes.

Somewhere in that icy, Chanel-clad heart of hers, Celeste de Vries really did love her grandson.

“It’s already a privilege to marry into this family,” Celeste continued as if I hadn’t said a word. “I don’t believe one needs a reward for doing so. Twenty million dollars, Eric? Really?”

“Jane and I never planned to get married,” Eric said. “She’s changing her whole life trajectory to make this happen on your timeline. Of course she should be compensated for it.”

Celeste looked up at him with irritation. “You never wanted to marry? Well, then, perhaps you should be reconsidering your choice. I can think of at least five other girls you’ve known your entire life who would be more appropriate choices.”

And there it was. She’d been dancing around it all day, especially after suggesting it multiple times the night before. I was in no way good enough for Celeste de Vries—after all, wasn’t that why Eric had asked me to begin with?

Eric yanked on his tie. “I don’t want to have this argument again.”

“A break,” I said again, this time louder. “I think I need some air. Mrs. de Vries, do you mind if I explore your balcony?”

She waved her hand at me, like I wasn’t even worth the excess oxygen needed to respond. Well, fine. Maybe to her, I wasn’t.

“Petri,” I said, causing Eric to look up with narrowed eyes.

“Don’t,” he mouthed at me.

I just smirked. “Come on. Show me the view.”

Celeste sat back in her chair, waving Garrett over to help her out of the room while Eric and I stood up. Skylar also excused herself to use the bathroom, and Eric and I walked out to the balcony that encircled the entire apartment.

Once again, it was a beautiful late spring day in New York. Below us, Central Park waved, and I leaned over the balustrade to watch a bunch of people flying kites by a pond.

“You need to stop sparring with her,” I said. “For one, I think she likes it.”

“Correction,” Eric replied as he gazed out at the view. The top of the MET shone like a giant diamond below us. “She loves it. Grandmother always gets off on putting people in their place.”

“Then we should go. This isn’t working. She wants to see you married before she dies, and if it really has to be me—”

“It does.”

I preened. Eric rolled his eyes.

“So, then, maybe we put our cards on the table and walk away until she relents. It might take the full six months, but at the end, she’ll cave. Granny lust is a powerful thing.”

Eric chuckled. “Maybe. But I don’t like doing this without knowing you’re getting your due. This is a lot I’m asking of you. It’s fucking medieval.”

I traced a finger around the carved stone railing. “Medieval would be if I brought a dowry. Unfortunately, all I have is eight hundred dollars in my savings account and a lot of student loan debt. She thinks I’m a social climber, and she resents me for it.”

“She thinks you’re a phase.”

“Well, I am.”

Eric watched me carefully while I toyed with a loose strand of my hair.

“What is that supposed to mean?” he asked.

I shrugged. “This has an expiration date. Maybe she knows it. Five years. The irony is that she laid the terms, right? Now she hates them because she can’t tell if we’re serious or not.” I looked up to find him still staring a hole through me. “What? As soon as this is over, it’s straight to the courthouse, right? And then you’ll be free to bang whomever you want. Well…you’ll still be free to do that anyway, but in five years, you can do it openly.”

Eric opened and closed his mouth several times. “Jesus, Jane.”

“What?”

He darted a glance through the window to where his grandmother had returned and was now sifting through the papers on the coffee table. She glanced up, and her face softened as it landed on him, then hardened on me.

Eric leaned in and kissed me.

“Oh my God, what are you doing!” I shoved him away by reflex. “I said no funny business!”

“You said no pretty girl bullshit,” he corrected me. “This is not that.”

“How do you figure?!”

He tipped his head, like I should know the answer. “You’re right. She thinks this is transactional, and she’s looking for more. Jane, you didn’t touch me at all last night. Other than, you know, squeezing my hand off in the beginning.”

I scowled. “Was I supposed to? I didn’t realize playacting was part of the bargain.”

Eric rolled his eyes. “When did you ever have to act with me?”

I pressed my lips together. He had a point. The guy might piss me off like no other, but I never faked it once with him. In any way. And that was saying something.

“Still,” I said. “You can’t just go around kissing me whenever you want, you caveman. You want something, you ask for it. It’s called consent.”

Eric exhaled forcefully. “You always have to make things so goddamn difficult.”

“I’m pretty sure you brought this shitty situation to the table, Petri.”

He looked up. “Don’t call me that.”

I smirked. “Then don’t be an idiot.”

He sighed again. “Fine. Jane, my grandmother is going to look up again in about another two seconds. When she does, will you please let me kiss you so she thinks we like each other enough to get married? And so she’ll agree to the goddamn papers and give me access to my trust so we can get the fuck out of here?”

I paused. “Are you serious?”

He set his jaw. “As a heart attack.”

I bit my lip. “Fine. Five seconds, no more. And keep your hands to yourself.”

Eric sighed again. “Incorrigible woman,” he muttered to himself.

“I’m sorry, what was that?”

In response, I was suddenly yanked to him by the waist.

“Jane,” he said, “shut up.”

And before I could come back with a slick retort, he kissed me again. And this time, I didn’t fight it. His mouth fit to mine easily, forcefully, like he had been intending to match those puzzle pieces together all day. I sank into it, my body melting into the strong hands that held my waist. My lips opened, welcoming his tongue as it licked, twisted, twirled around mine. My hands slid into the short hair at the base of his neck, urging him deeper while his hands knotted the fabric of my jumpsuit.

I don’t know how long it lasted, but it was a lot more than five seconds.

When he finally released me, one of his hands traveled up my side and cupped my face. I froze, caught in the unexpected tenderness as Eric’s eyes traveled over my face, his thumb lightly brushing my cheekbone. We stared at each other for a good five seconds before he swallowed and stepped back.

I took a deep breath. “I told you to watch your hands,” I said, somewhat more breathlessly than I intended.

The right side of Eric’s mouth quirked as he patted his hair back into place. “I kept them above the belt.” He glanced inside. “She saw.”

Reality slammed down like a sledgehammer.

“You totally took advantage of me,” I said.

“You liked it.”

“You’re an asshole.”

He shrugged. “Maybe.”

We stared at each other for a solid thirty seconds. This time, Eric looked away first.

“Come on, Lefferts,” he said, taking my hand in his. “She’s watching us now too. Let’s go inside and finish this.”

We walked back inside, where Skylar and the other lawyer were now bent over the document, listening to Mrs. de Vries rattle on about money.

“I don’t care how ‘in love’ they might be,” she said in a way that made her doubt clear, though I did notice her curious glance as we sat down. “Twenty million dollars is far too much.”

“No, it’s not enough,” Eric put in. “It’s twenty for the marriage. Another twenty if she gets pregnant.”

I gasped. That was an addition I hadn’t know about. “Pregnant?”

“You don’t plan to have children?” The sharp edge of Celeste’s voice had returned.

“I—I—I honestly don’t—we hadn’t really…” I looked to Skylar, who seemed to be trying not to laugh. I scowled. This wasn’t funny.

“If it happens, it happens,” Eric said, pulling my hand into his lap.

His thumb brushed over my knuckles, toying with my new ring. Celeste’s eyes zeroed in on the jewelry.

Eric turned to me with a soft expression. “You deserve it, Jane.”

“Forty million, Eric?” Celeste still sounded like she was about to choke. “Are you out of your mind?”

“I figure I’m exactly as sane as it takes to require someone to get married for money in this day and age.”

I didn’t know what to say. Neither did Skylar or the other lawyer, both of whom were now furiously writing on their copies of the prenups.

“Honestly, I would have offered her five times that if I had to,” Eric continued. “It still would have been cheaper than bankrupting the rest of the family out of pettiness.”

He didn’t shout, but his words cut nonetheless. Eric almost never shouted. I could remember only a few times—and yes, they were directed at me—that I had ever seen him really lose his temper. Of the two of us, I was always the one with the sparks.

This was how rich people were, I was starting to learn. Speak softly, and carry a big, money-filled stick.

“And another thing,” Eric continued in that same low, controlled voice, though his eyes flashed. “We’re not cattle. I understand why you insist on this marriage happening right this damn second. I understand you’re in poor health and you’d like this family to continue patrilineally. It’s antiquated and idiotic, but I get it.”

“Now, see here—”

“But if it’s going to happen, it happens because Jane and I choose to make it happen.” He squeezed my hand. “Consent, right?”

I didn’t know what to say. As of last week, Eric and I had agreed not to touch each other that way. We had agreed this needed to be purely business. Now he was standing up for my right to choose, kissing me on balconies, and caressing my hand. It wasn’t fair. The hottest thing in the world isn’t watching a man sweat or work out or get all hot and bothered. It’s not his abs or his pecs or whatever the hell else women ogle on romance covers. What makes superheroes so sexy is that they fight for other people. And after spending two hours watching Eric fight his grandmother over me…followed by that kiss…yeah, it was doing it for me. Big time.

Ovarian whiplash, plain and simple.

“If you’re also doing this for the company,” Celeste said, trying a new tactic, “you’ll consider what a potential loss it will take when its new chairman marries someone like—”

My head shot up at last. “Like what?”

Celeste looked to me like she had just realized I was there. “Like you, dear.”

We stared at each other for a long time. I tried not to look away first.

“Mrs. de Vries,” I said carefully, holding up my hand when Eric tried to speak. “I’ve been listening to you crap all over me for the last two hours. Yes, I said crap. In a room full of priceless antiques and art. I’m aware that my very presence here violates your sense of grace and elegance. Every word out of my mouth disgusts you.”

Mrs. de Vries opened her mouth but didn’t argue.

“But maybe,” I said, “maybe I’m doing this for him too. I’m not just some girl he grabbed off the street or one of those socialite chicks dying to sink their French tips into him. I’ve known Eric a long time, and I appreciated him well before I knew about any of this. So consider for a moment that maybe I wasn’t intending to get married either, but I’m doing it to help. Because, well, I care about him. Very much.”

I hadn’t realized how true the words were until I said them. Maybe, somewhere deep down, some of those old feelings still existed for this man who drove me crazy. Maybe somewhere, I didn’t hate him as much as I thought.

“I think you need to consider his happiness before your own here,” I concluded. “If that’s even possible.”

Celeste narrowed her eyes, gripping the arms of her wheelchair tightly. “Eric,” she said, “the family isn’t going to pay millions so you can wed your little geisha.”

My jaw dropped completely. “His what?”

This time she looked straight at me. “I have a reputation, my dear. What do they say? I call them like I see them.”

“Grandmother!”

“Mrs. de Vries, that is totally out of line!” Skylar put in.

“Stop, stop, stop!” I cried out, finally standing up. I brushed down my pants, let the fabric settle, then glared at the diminutive old orc. My sympathy for her had evaporated. She really was awful.

“First of all,” I said through clenched teeth. “Get your fucking cultural references right, lady. Geisha are Japanese, and I’m half Korean. Second of all,” I continued. “I might not be rich, but I’m a catch. I’m from a good family, I’m a decent person, I’m smart as fuck, and cute as a damn button. Eric was lucky to find me, and you should be so lucky to invite someone like me into this shitshow of a family. Third—” I took a deep breath. I was running out of steam, but her tightly coiled face was ramping it right back up again. “If you weren’t so determined to rent your grandson out like a studhorse, maybe you wouldn’t be in this situation.”

“Jane!” Eric cut in, gesturing across his mouth that I needed to shut the hell up.

Unfortunately, I was on a roll. “Why don’t you just do what the European royalty did, Mrs. de Vries? I’ve seen the family pictures. Eric’s got enough extended family lying around that a few of them might want to procreate to produce the perfect child for you. Then you could just cut him out of the equation, right?”

“Jane!” This time it was Skylar who was yanking on my sweater.

“Or maybe,” I rattled on, “you should just go full Egyptian. With technology today, you could grab a little of Eric’s sperm, Nina’s eggs, and voilà, perfect de Vries baby in one shot, am I right? All you need is a surrogate.”

“JANE!”

Together, Eric and Skylar both yanked me out of my fury, bringing me back to a place of sanity. Slowly, I realized that I’d just recommended incest to my future grandmother-in-law. In her own home.

Oh. Dear. Lord.

I turned and found Eric staring at me in horror. I clapped a hand over my mouth.

“Oh, God,” I said. “Eric, I’m…” I turned to Celeste. “I really am so sorry.”

“You…you ungrateful little wretch.” She coughed, then hacked, then pressed her oxygen mask to her reddened face, gasping for breath. Behind her, Garrett the butler shot daggers at me. Her lawyer looked like he wanted to disappear.

“Eric,” I started again. “I’m so sorry.”

“Just don’t,” he said as he stood up. He looked angry, but also exhausted.

Well, that’s what you get, I wanted to say. Fucking hell, I knew it was a shitty outburst, but what did he really expect? He chose me of all people!

“I need a break,” he said as if we hadn’t just taken a few minutes. “I need some space.” He swiped his coat off the chair and headed for the exit, turning in the doorway. “Grandmother, this is the deal. If you don’t sign off, there will be no wedding. No church. No dynasty. And I’ll be happy to tell Mom, Nina, Violet, and all the others that the reason they are all losing their inheritances is because you were too racist and stubborn to grant Jane the same exact prenuptial compensation that every other person who has married into this family has received.”

My jaw dropped. I had no idea this deal was so…common.

“Now, Eric, please,” Celeste started.

“Please nothing,” he said quietly. And to me, his gaze was cold. Withering. “I’ll see you later.”

And then he left.