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He drops a stack of papers on top of the wedding license.
“We added a few amendments in ink, and I initialed those.” He points at the papers. “I assure you that it’s all legal.”
I take no reassurance in that.
I don’t need to worry about that, because this wedding is not happening. “I’m not marrying you, sir.”
He runs a finger under his bottom lip. “I assumed we were past the question of whether or not this was happening.”
“We weren’t,” I state with a shake of my head. “I can’t marry you.”
“You can.”
Marriage means something to me. I’ve watched my parents navigate the waters of a successful marriage. I want that too.
“I believe one and a half million dollars is more than generous, Miss Shaw.”
It’s ridiculous.
I’ve yet to hit the six-figure a year mark for my annual salary. One and a half million dollars would secure my financial future, but it comes at a cost that’s too steep.
“It’s very generous,” I agree. “But when I get married, I want it to be for love, and I want the first time to be the only time.”
Leaning against the edge of his desk, he crosses his arms. “We’ll be divorced a few months from now. After that, you’re free and clear to marry a man you love.”
I scratch my head. “You keep bringing up divorce. An annulment is an option.”
I can’t believe I’m even considering this arrangement, but on the remote chance that I do it, I don’t want there to be any public record that I married this man.
“That’s not an option.”
“It is,” I insist. “People get annulments all the time.”
I’m basing that on what I’ve seen in the movies and on television.
“It’s not an option,” he repeats.
Frustrated, I inch forward on my chair. “I happen to know that if a marriage is never consummated, it can be annulled, and since we will never do that, it’s an option.”
Mr. Locke’s fingers trace his jaw. “In New York State, that’s only an option if one party is physically unable to have sex. I sure as hell don’t fall into that category, Miss Shaw, do you?”
How am I talking about sex with my boss right now?
I can’t form a verbal response, so I shake my head.
“Divorce is the route we’ll take,” he says matter-of-factly. “If it helps, remind yourself that this is strictly for convenience, and when you do marry for love, it will be for the first time.”
Technically he’s right, but I’ll always know I said I do to my boss to pad my bank account. I have to live with that, and I’m not sure I can regardless of how much money he’s offering me.
“I don’t understand why you told Mr. Abdon we were married in the first place,” I say with a hint of exasperation in my tone. “How did that happen?”
He closes his eyes briefly and draws a deep breath.
“It’s easy to tell him that we’re not married,” I go on, “I can do it if you’d prefer.”
I wouldn’t say I have a friendship with Lloyd Abdon, but I know he’s fond of me. He’s told me that every time he’s come into the office.
Mr. Locke studies my face. “Lloyd told me I was fucking up my life.”
My eyes widen. “What?”
He tilts his head back. “We discussed my future plans outside of the office, and I didn’t have an answer that fits into what he considers acceptable.”
That’s a lot of words that say very little, so I ask for clarification. “I don’t understand.”
“Since he promoted me to CEO, he’s asked about the women in my life.” He glances toward the open doorway of his office. “There hasn’t been anyone worth discussing, so he started bringing you up.”
“Me?” I ask, feeling a blush creep up my neck.
“Miss Shaw is a remarkable person.” He taps a finger against his palm. “Miss Shaw is smart and kind. She’s a considerate young woman.”
“Mr. Abdon said those things about me?”
“And more.” He nods. “Eventually, I told him we were seeing each other outside the office. I thought that would be enough to appease him, but he kept pressing me to pop the question and set a date, so I told him the other day we were married in a civil ceremony this week. The words came out before I could stop myself.”
I’ve known Mr. Locke for more than a year, and I’d never peg him as someone who bows to pressure, not even pressure applied at the hand of his boss.
“Lloyd has relocated to Paris, so I assumed he’d stay there.” He scrubs a hand over the back of his neck. “This visit was unexpected.”
He has filled in some of the blanks, but I still feel I’m missing a big piece of this puzzle.
I try a new approach. “You said that I could file for a divorce ninety days from now.”
