Page 12 of The Contract Marriage

“Oh yeah,” Roarke says, cracking his knuckles. “Come on.”

Despite his smirky confidence, Roarke is out after the first round. We laugh at his stunned expression.

“Tough luck, bro,” Xavier says, showing absolutely zero sympathy.

“Asshole.”

“Losers whine, winners get to dance with Max,” Silas says.

Three rounds later, I stare at my palm. “Wow.”

“Damn it!” Finn shakes his fist. “You’re just lucky.”

“Hah. Pure skill.” Lucky? He has no idea. My luck isn’t that great—the woman I’ve been thinking about for twelve years barely registers my existence.

“I was going to go with scissors…” Finn’s tone is mournful since he was so close to winning.

“At least you just made a lot of money at work,” I say to soothe his pain. He hates losing.

“How do you know?”

“Call it a wild guess.” I slap his shoulder, then head over to claim my prize.

“You guys are hilarious,” Max says with a laugh in her eyes as we walk onto the dance floor. “Rock paper scissors? Seriously?”

“We aim to amuse.”

The quartet plays the jaunty melody from “Cheek to Cheek.” I sing it under my breath.

“You know the song?” Max’s mouth forms a surprised O.

“Of course. Don’t you?”

“I know the melody, but not the lyrics.”

“Oh ye of little romance,” I tease as I spin her.

“That’s why I work at RF Investment, not at Kingswood Stones & Designs.” She sighs softly, then gives me a sly look. “You’re the romance magnet. Even the bouquet knew. Maybe you’re next.”

I laugh. “More likely last.” Or even more likely—never.

“Don’t be so negative. You’re perfect—ready for a torrid romance.” She shines with so much warmth and care, except she doesn’t know the only woman I’d want to marry is engaged to another man. “There’s a woman who’s just waiting for you to burst into her life and sweep her off her feet.”

“Like this?” I execute a perfect sweep and dip.

She lets out a peal of laughter, then places a soft kiss on my cheek as the quartet hits the final note. “Yeah, just like that.”

Chapter Five

Olivia

The office is quiet—it’s Saturday, after all. But I’m in the no-nonsense space designed for efficiency rather than the showiness you might expect from a luxury urn manufacturer.

I’m the CEO of Luminary & Co., the subsidiary of EverAfter, and my little kingdom doesn’t run itself.

I go over the latest projections. Our last quarterly results were fantastic, especially with the new market expansion into Japan and Korea for pet urns. It was experimental, and we started small. But it paid off far better than anticipated. I should find local distributors, especially in Japan, who can move the product into the rest of the country. Tokyo is great, but there are other cities with potential.

I lean back in my seat and exhale with satisfaction. Twelve years of painstaking work, and it’s paying off handsomely. Without the success of the company, which I started as soon as I turned eighteen, I wouldn’t have been able to gather enough resources to balance the scales. It still enrages me that Mom’s murderers get to live well and insulate themselves from consequences with the Whitmore Trust.