Page 39 of Bound To Be Mine

“You want a divorce then?” he asked.

“No. You don’t understand. I sell the idea of happily ever after. I can’t be some irresponsible woman who randomly marries and divorces in less than twenty-four hours.”

“Well, apparently, you are,” he muttered.

“No. I’m not. I won’t be. I can’t be. We have to stay married so people don’t think I’ll do this at their wedding.”

He started laughing. I leveled a glare at him and he quickly stopped. “Fuck that. You’re crazy.”

“Fake it with me for a few months and I’ll sign your contract and whatever else you want me to sign. Just do this for me. Trust me, it’s better for both of us.”

The poor man. Bless his heart. He looked like he was going to pass out.

13

BRIGGS

“No,” I said flatly. “Absolutely not. We aren’t actually married.”

“I think we are.”

“Have you seen the marriage license?”

That made her stop. “No.”

“Until I see it, I’m operating under the assumption we are not legally married.”

“Ah, denial.” She nodded. “That’s always an effective strategy to solve problems.”

“Due diligence,” I retorted. “I’m an attorney. I operate on evidence.”

She looked around the room and then stomped to where her purse was. She opened it, pulled out a paper, and unfolded it.

“Uh-oh, counselor, I think this might be Exhibit A,” she said. She thrust the paper in my face. “And my ring is Exhibit B and Exhibit C is stuck on your finger. The photos clogging my social media feed would be D through Z.”

I stared at the paper, and unfortunately, I recognized my signature. Sloppy but undeniably mine.

“Fuck,” I groaned.

“Briggs, if we play this right, it’ll work out just fine for us both,” she said. “If we save my reputation, your company will make a lot of money partnering with me. But if people no longer trust me, kiss those profits goodbye.”

She sounded so reasonable as she discussed our marriage. A marriage neither of us remembered entering into or actually wanted.

“Absolutely not. We’re getting this annulled. Today. Tomorrow.”

She crossed her arms. “I just explained why that won’t work for me.”

“And I just told you I don’t care.” I stood up, needing to move, needing to do something other than sit there while she suggested the most insane thing I’d ever heard. “We made a mistake. We fix it. That’s how this works.”

“That’s how it works for you,” she countered. “You’re a man. You’re a lawyer. You can spin this as a funny story you tell at parties. ‘Remember that time I got drunk in Vegas?’ Everyone will laugh and move on. But I’m a woman in an industry that’s already hard enough to be taken seriously in. I can’t afford to look messy.”

I turned to face her. “So your solution is to stay married? To lie about it? That’s somehow better?”

“Yes,” she said simply. “We stay married for a few months. We make it look real. Then we quietly divorce, citing irreconcilable differences or whatever lawyers say. By then, it won’t be news anymore. It’ll just be a relationship that didn’t work out.”

“That’s insane.”

“It’s practical.”