Page 26 of The Contract Marriage

Liam

The finalized contract arrives at the office on Wednesday. I read it again, note the changes, particularly the addendum and the part about joint custody. Samantha says it doesn’t mean much because judges often ignore custody agreements in prenups, but it’s still a matter of principle.

She has a point. Why give up early when the battle hasn’t even started?

I send detailed instructions to Frederich to transform my house into our home—for me and Olivia.

Emmie runs her eyes down my list. They get wider and wider. “Is there enough time to make all these changes?”

I laugh softly. In her early twenties, she behaves in ways that show how sheltered and easily impressed she is. Her aunt is the main housekeeper at Grandfather’s place, and I hired her as my assistant a little over a year ago because she’s enthusiastic and eager to learn. “Listen, you can always have two out of three: good, fast, or cheap. I’m willing to pay for good and fast, and Frederich can work his magic as long as he has my black card.”

She shakes her head. “Wow. So when’s the wedding?”

“Friday.” I wanted to invite everyone, so everyone in the world could see Olivia become my wife, but she doesn’t want anybody at the wedding.

“It has to be a secret,” she said. When I frowned, she quickly added, “But only until Saturday. Afterward, we can do whatever you want—another grand ceremony, a reception… Please?”

When she says please with those soft, imploring blue eyes, I’m powerless to resist.

Emmie squints at the STD report from the lab on my laptop. “What’s that?”

“For Olivia. My fiancée.” Although I’m certain Simon is acting without her go-ahead, I don’t want there to be any doubt that I’m physically healthy. Eat your heart out, Simon Voss!

Emmie’s voice rises. “What the hell?”

I wince. “Emmie. I’m right here.”

“But who does she think she is?” She bristles.

I give her a look. “She’s the soon-to-be Mrs. Liam Kingswood.”

She backs off, pouting slightly. My tone might’ve been a little harsh. But I don’t want her to cross a line she shouldn’t because I failed to set clear expectations. That bastard Simon can be snarky with me, but nobody gets to bad-mouth Olivia.

“It just seems so…rushed, though,” Emmie says, slightly subdued.

“No need to get me a gift,” I say, raising a hand magnanimously.

“Don’t worry. I don’t buy gifts for weddings I’m not invited to,” she says, and I know we’re back to being okay. “So did you find a ring for the ceremony?”

I nod with a smile, thinking of the ten-carat blood-red diamond from the lab. Red is the rarest color for a diamond, and nearly impossible to create consistently even in a controlled lab setting. Kingswood Stones & Designs is the only place that can, which gives me immense pride and joy. And I want the greatest red stone, the one we dubbed “the Rubedo,” to sparkle on Olivia’s finger. I gesture at the item. “That.”

Her jaw hangs loose. “You’re giving her the Rubedo?”

“Yep.”

“Holy shit. You even turned down Barron Sterling when he asked to buy it. Is she really worth—” Emmie catches herself.

“My fiancée is worth it and more,” I say softly. Emmie’s concern is understandable, though. Since she was hired, she’s never seen me date anybody. To her, Olivia is just some random woman who popped into my life, like an alien crash-landing in my backyard from Mars.

But nothing less than the Rubedo will do, since I can’t get a yellow starburst in time. Stones that big take months. I might have one grown for our first anniversary, or the birth of our first child. I should also instruct the lab to create something amazing for the baby. Maybe a gorgeous blue diamond, about three or four carats, nothing too crazy, but appropriately precious. The stone should carry all my anticipation and love for the baby, who’ll eventually grow up to know that I was preparing for its arrival even before it was conceived.

On Thursday, I receive a text from Olivia.

–Olivia: The wedding is at the courthouse at 3 p.m. tomorrow. Prescott managed to get a commissioner to agree to officiate. We need to arrive by 2:30 to get our marriage license first, though.

–Olivia: Sorry for the short notice. :frown-emoji:

I almost chuckle at the chagrined tone. Short notice? It’s been twelve years since I first “noticed” her and nearly swallowed my tongue.