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“That’s right.”

“Why ninety days?” I ask with a perk of my brow. “Are you going to tell Mr. Abdon that I left you three months into our marriage because of your attitude?”

A smirk settles over his lips. “My attitude?”

I nod.

I’m not giving him more than that because I really need that letter of recommendation. The chances of me walking out of here with a job are looking less likely by the second.

“Three months is sufficient,” he says.

That’s all he says.

It’s as though the rest of his explanation just fell off the edge of a cliff and is forever lost in the abyss of confusion that is my life right now.

“Sufficient?” I repeat. “Explain that, please, sir.”

He glances down at his watch. He knows that the minutes are ticking away.

“Sir?” I wave my hand in the air to get his attention. “What did you mean when you said that three months is sufficient?”

Before I can move my hand, he has it wrapped in his.

It’s the first time I’ve ever touched Graham Locke. We didn’t shake hands when we met, and he’s always been mindful of my personal space.

His eyes find mine. “Miss Shaw.”

“Yes?” I reply in a soft tone.

“Mr. Abdon is ill.” He swallows hard. “He told me that he has limited time left. He wants to spend the next two to three months in New York City tying up loose ends with the business. Then he plans on returning to Paris to live his final days. You’ll need to stay married to me until he’s back in France or God forbid if he doesn’t make it back, until he…”

I draw in a quick breath. “He’s sick?”

“He doesn’t want anyone to know.” He squeezes my hand. “I made a promise to him that I’d keep that between the two of us.”

Tears threaten, but I blink them back, determined to keep a sound mind during this discussion.

“Mr. Abdon has no family to speak of,” he goes on. “This marriage that he believes has taken place means a great deal to him.”

This changes everything. Mr. Abdon is a good person.

I met him when I was in the lobby of this building. I walked into the wrong skyscraper on my way to a job interview. I asked Mr. Abdon to help direct me to the right place, not realizing who he was.

He asked to see a copy of my resume. I showed him the one in my purse, and he hired me on the spot to be the assistant to the CEO.

My gaze drops to the prenup.

If I can help keep a smile on Mr. Abdon’s face while he’s in Manhattan, that’s worth more than any amount of money my boss is offering. I admit the money won’t go to waste, though.

“Deceiving him when he was across an ocean was hard enough,” he confesses. “I can’t look him in the eye and tell him we’re married if we’re not. I need this to happen, Miss Shaw. He’s the best person I’ve ever known. I want his final days to be happy.”

“I’ll marry you,” I whisper. “But I’m only doing it for Mr. Abdon.”

“That’s the only reason I’m marrying you,” my future husband says. “Sign on the dotted line, Miss Shaw, and let’s get to the courthouse.”

Chapter Six

Graham

Jesus. What a goddamn day this is turning out to be.

I was moving through the trials and tribulations of any typical weekday when my boss tossed me a curveball that upended my entire life. I didn’t foresee Lloyd Abdon making a last minute trip to Manhattan, but it’s happening.

I’m standing in front of Judge Peggy Mycella with my assistant by my side as we exchange vows.

“I do,” I blurt out, likely before I was prompted to.

Miss Shaw glances at me with some serious side-eye.

Peggy sighs. “Graham, it wasn’t your turn. I was asking Trina if she takes you to be her lawfully wedded husband.”

“I don’t have a choice,” Miss Shaw answers.

That drives Peggy’s gaze in her direction. “You always have a choice, Trina.”

My assistant shakes her head. “My choice is to do the right thing, so I have to do it. I have to marry him.”

“Are you pregnant?” Peggy asks. “I realize that asking that question is outside of the boundary of everything that is appropriate, but I know firsthand that a capable woman can raise a child on her own. Besides, Graham may be far from perfect, but given his past, I trust that he would step up and help monetarily and in other ways with his child.”

What the fuck?

“Pregnant?” Miss Shaw’s mouth drops open. “We’ve never had sex.”

Peggy’s eyes widen as her gaze shifts back to me. “That’s surprising, but I respect it. Waiting until you’re married will make your first time together that much more special.”

For Christ’s sake. I just want this ceremony to be over.

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