Billion Dollar Mistake by K.C. Crowne
Chapter 14
SAWYER
There it was.
After the deliberation, all of the mental back and forth trying to decide if it was the right call, I’d asked the question.
“I’m sorry – you what?”
“I want you to marry me.”
She was confused. Not like I could blame her for that reaction. Instead of a slow build up to the question, I’d instead decided to lay it right out there, no bullshitting around it.
Thankfully, the waiter had chosen this moment to arrive with the wine.
“No need for the tasting and all that,” I said to him. “Go ahead and pour – I’m sure it’s fine.”
The waiter did as I’d asked, filling one glass and then the other. I nodded and smiled, letting him know without words that he should come back a little later.
We sat in silence for several long moments, Jolene appearing to be processing the insane thing I’d just asked her. Then, suddenly, her hand shot out and she took a long sip of the wine, as if she’d realized there were something close by that could help her deal with the awkwardness.
Once the sip was down, she placed the glass on the table and turned to me with a steely expression on her face.
“I’m guessing that since you’re asking me like this and not, I don’t know, while down on one knee on a beach at sunset, there’s more to it than meets the eye.”
“You’d be right about that,” I said. “It’s not a real marriage – it’s an arrangement.”
“Explain. Now.”
“Yeah,” I said, placing my fingertips on the stem of my wine glass. “That’s probably a good idea. But let’s get some food going first.” I gestured over to the waiter, who was instantly tableside. He explained to us the special ‒ a steak and seafood combo. I nodded to Jolene to let her order first.
“Um, I’ll have that. Medium, please.”
“Same,” I said. “But medium-rare.”
Her expression softened a little after the waiter was gone. She smiled a bit, even.
“Feeling better?”
“Nope, still kind of want to knock you over the head with this wine bottle for dropping a question like that on me. But I am happy that you didn’t order for me.”
I let out a dry chuckle at her words.
“OK,” I said. “So, the marriage thing.”
I gave her the rundown of the situation with my dad, about how he was planning on retiring, leaving the company behind for his new fiancé and a life of sun and cocktails on Florida’s Atlantic coast.
Then I got to the part about his deal. Just like I’d suspected, the details of what my dad had laid out for me caused her jaw to nearly slam into the table.
“Wait, he wants you to find someone in a few months? Like, find the love of your life before then?”
“I know, right?” I asked, pleased that she was at least somewhat on my side. Glass of wine in hand, I leaned back and draped my arm over the top of my chair. “I mean, believing in true love or whatever is crazy enough; finding it in a few months while under a deadline? Crazy talk.”
She cocked her head to the side, curiosity softening her glare.
“You don’t believe in true love?”
“You do?” I asked, not missing a beat.
“Well…I mean, it’s not like I have time to think about that sort of thing with how busy I am. But…maybe? I don’t know.”
I could tell that, as she’d asked the question that she herself wasn’t sure how to answer. Jolene shook her head, as if tossing the thought aside, the hardness returning to her eyes.
“Anyway, true love or not, it doesn’t matter,” she said. “What does matter is that you want to bring me in on this insanity. Why?”
“Are you offended?” I asked. She snorted. “Truth be told, I don’t know. I’m still wrapping my head around the conversation of the last ten minutes.” Jolene shook her head and sipped her wine. “But why me? Seriously. You need someone to pretend to be your wife, right? Why not just hire some Instagram model, make her sign an NDA or something? Seems like less hassle.”
“You’d think so. But if I were to do that, I’d have to look for someone, then I’d have to do what I’m doing now, then I’d have to hope she’d get on board, then…you get the idea.”
“So, with me it’d be easier.”
It was like she was setting traps for me to walk into. Or maybe she was simply pointing out all the parts of my plan I hadn’t thought through – “points of failure,” as Zander had called them.
“Not easier,” I said. “But…think about it. Imagine you’re my dad. Imagine that you explain these terms to me. Then imagine a week later I show up with some Instagram fitness model with five hundred thousand followers, a woman I’ve never met before, and was like, ‘hey Dad, here’s my new fiancé.’”
“He’d see right through it,” she uttered.
“Right. The old man, for all his faults, is pretty damn clever. And he knows I’d do anything to get what I want – just like him. He’d put the screws to her, and it’d only be a matter of time before she cracked.” I took a sip of my wine, set the glass on the table, then gestured in Jolene’s direction. “You, on the other hand, you’re different.”
“Different in that, what, no one would mistake me for an Instagram model?”
The response was so ludicrous that if I’d been drinking my wine when she’d said it, I would’ve spit it out all over the table.
“No, not at all. Hell, you’re ten times more beautiful than any of those women.”
“Charming. Go on.”
“You’re different in the sense that you and I have a history. As in, we’ve known each other since high school.” I glanced aside, considering my words a little more carefully. “I mean, it’s not like we ever talked to each other back then. But you see what I’m getting at.”
Jolene narrowed her eyes at me, as if I’d said something totally out of pocket. Then a strange thing happened – her face went blank, she appeared sad almost, then the look of impatience that she’d been wearing reappeared.
“Something wrong?” I asked.
She shook her head. “No. Go on.”
I sipped then continued. “Anyway, what we have makes a more believable story, you know? Two people who knew each other back in high school fall into one another’s lives again. They came from different social groups but, after so many years have passed, learn that they have more in common than they’d thought. Like a movie or something, right?”
“Yeah. Something like that.”
“And there’s more to it. Those Instagram types…they’re not exactly the best conversationalists, if you know what I mean. You, on the other hand, are damn good company.”
“Thanks.” Her voice was flat, but I could sense that she appreciated the compliment.
“That’s not all – you’re smart, you can think on your feet. And I’m sure you could stand up to a grilling courtesy of the old man.”
She sighed, a sigh that was almost one of resignation.
“Well, great. I’m glad you think I’m perfect for the job.”
“You really would be. I’m positive.”
“But here’s the thing – why the hell would I want to do that? Why would I want to be part of some ridiculous plan to trick your father?”
Now came the hard part. Well, one of the hard parts, at least.
“First, I should say that I…kinda sorta ran a background check on you.”
Her eyes flashed with surprise and anger. “You what?” Jolene’s voice was loud enough to catch the attention of some nearby diners. Luckily, the mellow piano music blended with the din of conversation, and they turned back to their meals and company.
“Nothing crazy,” I said. “Just a way for me to get a sense of what I didn’t know about you.”
“Oh, like trying to find some weak point to exploit.”
“Hey.” I raised a finger. “There’s no blackmail going on. You tell me you don’t want to do this, and that’s fine. No one’s forcing anyone to do anything they don’t want to do here.”
Another sigh. The waiter came by and topped off our wine glasses.
“One more of the same,” Jolene said, pointing to the bottle. “He’s got it.” She nodded to me.
The waiter left and the conversation continued.
“Anyway, like I said, I wanted to see if there was something I could do to help, some way to sweeten the pot.”
“Is that right? And what did you find out?”
“I found out that a certain someone owes a hell of a lot in student loans.”
She opened her mouth to speak, but nothing came out.
I could tell I had her attention.
“Pretty common story – especially for med school. So, I’ll get to the point. If you do this with me, I’ll pay them off. I’ll call up Colorado Med, give them my credit card number, and just like that, they’re gone.”
She was speechless. It was clear that visions of a life without student debt shackled to her ankle were dancing in her head.
“And that’s not all you’ll get.”
“You’re starting to sound like a late-night infomercial.”
I couldn’t help but chuckle. “You’ll be my fiancé for six months. That means you’ll be treated to all the perks a woman I’m engaged to would enjoy. Trips, dinners, clothes – you want it, it’s yours. And we can even see about doing something about that house of yours.”
“I like my house,” she said, coldness to her voice. Now she was offended.
“I mean, the house is fine. It’s the neighborhood that I’m not crazy about. You do live not too far from a park where a guy got shot to death, after all.”
She didn’t have anything to say to that.
“Anyway, you’ll get plenty out of this. Plenty to make your life a hell of a lot easier when you go back to it.”
Jolene narrowed her eyes and leaned forward.
“I want more.”
“More?”
“More.”
I didn’t know what to say. What was she going to do, ask for a billion dollars?
“Name it.”
“I’m going for a job at the state coroner’s office. I want you to use your connections to put in a good word for me.”
“Huh?” I didn’t know what to say.
She raised her finger. “And don’t get me wrong – I’m not wanting you to do anything underhanded. All I want is for you to get someone who’s responsible for decisions like this in earshot and let them know about me, that I’m worth consideration for the job.”
“I can do that. Easy. My dad and I have tons of contacts in the state government.”
The waiter arrived, placing the plates of lobster and steak in front of us.
“Can I get this to go?” she asked.
“To go?” the waiter questioned, a tone of confusion to his voice.
“To go.”
Without another word, he took the still steaming plate away. Then she reached into her purse and took out a small, folded stack of twenties.
“What are you doing?” I asked.
She extended the money toward me. “Take it. I’m paying for my half of dinner. But not the other bottle of wine.”
“No way you’re paying. I’m treating. This is a date.”
“It’s not a date – it’s a business meeting. And I pay for half of those.”
I didn’t take the money. She let out a breath of frustration before setting the bills on the table.
“Wait, so is this a no?”
“It’s an I have a hell of a lot to think about.”
“Then let’s be in touch. We would need to sign a prenup for all of this, then plan on an annulment after. And I’m sure you’d like all the extras you’re going to get in writing.”
“The extras that I might get. I still haven’t agreed to this.” She stood up.
A detail hit me.
“Wait, where the hell are you going? It’s a ten-minute drive just to get down to the highway.”
“I’ll take an Uber. Because right now this date or business meeting or whatever the hell it is, is over.”
At that moment, the waiter returned with her to go container.
While she was distracted, I quickly took the money off the table, reached over, and slipped it into her purse. I had to resist a smile when I saw that she hadn’t noticed.
She took the container of food, thanked the waiter, and was off. Even though she was pissed at me, I still couldn’t take my eyes off her ass while she left.
Then I was alone. I shook my head and sipped my wine, wondering if I’d managed to screw a good thing up with an amazing woman before it’d even had a chance to get off the ground.