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He draws in a slow, deep breath.
“Provided you’re willing to play exactly how I ask, and when, and where…”
He lowers his face to mine a little.
“Then yes, Ms. Yamaguchi. We have a fucking deal.”
9
FUMI
My nerves are shot as I step into the elevator to head up to the office. I take a large swig of coffee, feeling the irregularity of my pulse and the slickness at the small of my back.
I’m marrying my boss.
I hate that I haven’t had a chance to talk about this with any of my friends, or people whose opinions I give a shit about—Elsa, Taylor, or Eloise, for example. But Gabriel didn’t leave my apartment yesterday until I’d signed an NDA of biblical proportions barring me from uttering a single syllable before he makes the announcement.
Which will be soon. Soon, everyone I work with will hear that I’ve been dating our boss. Who cares if it’s a lie. The net result is going to be the same.
Shock. Probably some snickered ridicule. Gold digger jokes behind my back.
My shoulders slump. It’s going to suck. But the silver lining is that the monetary transaction part of all of this is going to happen soon. Which means I can get it to Takato, and that entire dark chapter of my dad’s life can be over and done with.
Dad gave everything up for me. I can survive being married to Gabriel Black for a short while.
It’s not a forever marriage. That was in the massive stack of contracts and NDAs we went over last night—back in the kitchen, with me wearing more than a towel.
The plan is to marry before his announcement that he’s running. We’ll stay married throughout the election campaign, since that’s the entire point. The charade will continue for a minimum of three years, with an option at that point to renegotiate terms to “stay together” if it looks like he could win the next election and still needs me at his side.
After that, it’s basically rinse, repeat. In the third year of each four-year term, we’ll re-negotiate for us keep the ruse going through him campaigning for another term, since New York State has no term limits for Governor.
And of course, Gabriel’s already thought of everything, including the payment structures and maximum contract renewal amounts, which I had to agree to last night.
Apparently, I’m able to make my demand of five million instead of four only once. But it’s not like I’ll be crying poverty staying married to the man. Each “term” that I stay with him nets me a million dollars a year. And the only drawback is that I’ll be married to a control freak with supremely deviant sexual tastes.
I mean…there are worse ways of making a fortune.
There’s more contractual stuff, of course. The details of my involvement in his life and in his campaign have to be ironed out. But the preliminary agreements have been signed.
I’m really doing this.
With a frown, I suddenly realize I’m just standing in an empty elevator with the doors to the lobby still open. Shaking my head in hopes of getting it screwed on straight, I reach over to punch the button for the Crown and Black offices on the topmost floors. The doors begin to shut, when suddenly, a hand jerks between them.
The doors open again, and Gabriel walks in.
My pulse skips as he stands looming right over me. His eyes bore into me, stealing my breath as he reaches behind him and pushes the door close button.
“Um…hi.”
The elevator begins to rise.
“There was a leak to the media.”
Instantly, I go on the defensive, glaring at him.
“So obviously it’s me, right? Is that to what I owe the pleasure of this dramatic elevator meeting?”
Gabriel’s eyebrow quirks up. “You have trust issues, don’t you?”
