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As I reached behind me to swipe the throw pillows off the bed with one hand, I pulled out my phone with the other, immediately seeing a notification for a new email. I clicked on it, then promptly wished I hadn’t.

The subject line was blank and the body of the email from Alex was exactly four words long. Is it a go?

I nearly strained an optic nerve from how hard I rolled my eyes. Is it a go? What is this, a covert military operation?

After taking another swig of my warm, gross craft beer, however, I actually considered the question. I’d told him I would get back to him after this weekend, so I’d known all along that I would have to put some thought into it while I was here.

Okay, but really, how bad can it actually be?

It was just a marriage. A legal contract entered into by signing a piece of paper in front of a bored judge. My father had proven that the sanctity of the institution itself meant very little—or absolutely nothing, if I was being honest—so there was no reason for me to treat it like some holy, life-altering bond.

If I did this, I’d get unrestricted access to my new trust fund, which both Alex and Jane had assured me contained exactly as much money as I was supposed to have gotten. I would be completely, entirely free, and whoever my future wife turned out to be, she would get whatever the hell she wanted.

Whether that turned out to be a new car, a lifetime supply of expensive shoes, or a massive shopping spree at Bergdorf’s on my dime.

If she really was just a totally normal person like Alex claimed, maybe it wouldn’t be a total disaster. We could live in mutually agreed-upon solitude together. We could buy a giant house, adopt a cat or something to occupy her time, and sleep in separate bedrooms on opposite sides of our mansion for the rest of our sorry, miserable lives. It wasn’t a dream come true, but she’d get all the financial security she could ever need and I’d get my freedom.

Framed like that, this was just another transaction, a deal that equally benefited two consenting parties. And that? That was a lot more palatable to me. I’d made dozens of deals when I’d been working and those had all worked out great. There was no reason this had to be different.

Before I could start overthinking again, my fingers were flying across the glowing screen, and a second later, I hit send. Tossing my phone face-down on the bed beside me, I closed my eyes and desperately hoped the upstate double IPA wouldn’t give me a hangover.

Lord knows, I’m going to need my wits about me when I get back to Chicago tomorrow.

CHAPTER 10

ALICIA

Exactly one week after I’d spilled the beans to Tasha and wound up upending my entire life, I stood in a modern, pristine conference room on the top floor of the Westwood and Sons corporate tower. Looking out the floor-to-ceiling windows at the skyline of Chicago spreading out in every direction around us, I honestly couldn’t tell if the past seven days had been a fever dream or if my brain had just blocked it out as a trauma-response coping mechanism.

“Now, remember, Alicia,” Jane was saying in a low murmur as she flipped through a terrifyingly thick stack of paper. “I know we went over the prenup again this morning, but I just want to reassure you one last time that everything is locked in, except the caveat Alex discussed with you. It’s not formally included because it’s strictly between you and him.”

I nodded and rubbed the back of my neck. It felt so stiff that it was threatening to give me a freaking migraine, but in reality, I knew it was just my brain struggling to process that any of this was real. “Right. I know. It’s not a problem.”

I glanced at the court clerk, who was chewing a piece of peppermint gum I could smell all the way from over here. Next to her was an ordained officiant, the man who would be marrying me today. A slightly hysterical laugh bubbled up from deep inside my soul, and in my attempt to keep it from escaping, a soft little squeak came out instead.

This is happening right now. I’d known it would. Obviously. I’d been told, but hearing it and then suddenly staring at the people who were going to make it official were two very different things. I’m actually here, standing in a skyscraper that belongs to a billionaire, about to marry a complete stranger for financial salvation.

The sheer absurdity of the situation was catching up to me fast, my palms sweaty and my heart ricocheting around my chest. At this rate, I was going to need an ambulance before my mysterious husband-to-be even arrived.

At least I looked cute.

To distract myself from my impending heart attack, I focused on my clothes. Three days ago, Tasha and I had descended on our favorite thrift store, triumphantly digging an eggshell-white, vintage 1990s suit-and-skirt combo out of the clearance bin. It had seemed like a win at the time. I absolutely loved this outfit, but compared to Jane, I looked a bit ratty.

On the other hand, everyone would look ratty compared to her. She was, as always, immaculately put together. I adored Jane’s sense of style, but it wasn’t great for the old self-esteem.

Especially since I didn’t even know yet who was going to be walking through those doors. I was sure his name would’ve been somewhere on the paperwork, but since I didn’t really know either the Westwood or the Thayer families, I didn’t know who was who.

Drawing in another deep breath when my hands started shaking, I glanced down at my shoes and immediately felt just a touch more grounded. The slightly scuffed but classic pumps had belonged to my mother. As had the delicate, slightly tarnished silver bracelet on my left wrist.

It was the only piece of my mom’s jewelry I’d kept after she’d passed away. The rest had either been sold or donated. This piece had always been special to me, though. She’d worn it on the day of her own wedding after my dad had given it to her as an engagement gift, back when people had still done things the traditional way.

I, on the other hand, had not had a romantic engagement. There had been no man on bent knee, staring up at me with tears in his eyes as he presented me with a velvet box. I hadn’t gotten to make any tearful phone calls to relatives or spent hours admiring my new ring.

Hell, I didn’t even have a ring.

All I’d gotten had been a mountain of paperwork to sign, but because I had signed it all, there was a massive bank transfer coming up in my immediate future and a lifetime of back taxes that were about to magically disappear. The whole thing had been dealt with very professionally. Alex and his lawyers had been extremely efficient, polite, and thorough in their explanations of every clause in every contract.

All of which had led to this moment, when I was waiting to legally marry a husband I hadn’t even met yet.