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Why in the world did that matter right this minute or even at all? Yeah, look at her all cool and calm when her insides were anything but. Not going there. She almost told him she couldn’t explain why, but he made her feel safe. Like the storm of unease that rolled through her since learning she could lose everything settled the second he was close to her. “I don’t remember.”
Marshall frowned for a second and then shook his head.
She didn’t care and it would stay that way.
Juniper blew out a breath and took a sip of her now cold coffee.
He didn’t know the kind of predicament he left her in. Now, where would she find a client in time? Maybe it was for the best she did close.
He sat there, elbows on his knees and eyes cast down. Probably coming up with another lie to tell her.
He reached into his opened briefcase in the seat next to him and placed a single sheet of paper turned to where she couldn’t read what was printed on the front.
“What’s that?”
“The single sheet of paper that will save your beautiful ass. And mine.”
“Excuse me?” Her brow furrowed in confusion. The man was off his rocker. Beautiful? Sure. Of course, her mind clung to that word.
“Before Stella left, she went by to see Mr. Siggs to discuss the total amount needed to pay off your debt to them. I hope you forgive the intrusion, but negotiation is my business. Information is my tool and I know how to use it.”
She felt the second her mouth fell open and her brain went into overdrive.
“You can’t do that. He can’t give you that information. How did you even find out?”
Arrogance washed over his face. “You will be surprised by what people will do when motivated, Juniper. Your banker was worried about you and once I told him my plans, he slipped me a piece of paper with a final figure on it.” He spoke softly but the blow of his words hurt just as much.
How could he? Betrayal sat heavy in her heart.
“Please bear with me,” Marshall pleaded. He reached between them and surprised her with a soft touch to the back of her hand where she had them clasped in front of her.
“How did you even find out about my bank loan?” She leaned forward and plucked the piece of paper off the table and read over the bullet points, line for line. Then read them again.
Her jaw fell slack for the second time. No way. What? “This says you’ll pay me a total of one hundred and fifty thousand dollars—my fee, plus the loan I owe the bank. Why? Why would anyone put that much money on the table for a complete stranger?”
Her gran’s words, ‘never look a gift horse in the mouth,’ came back to her. Yeah, but she didn’t blindly take from people either. Something was fishy. Sure, she could plan a brideless wedding, she supposed, but eventually, they would need someone to walk down that aisle.
“I saw the red envelope on the counter when I first came in. As I said, I like to be prepared for every eventuality and I always get what I want. So, I had this,” he pointed to the paper she still held, “drawn up last night.”
His tone held no mocking infliction or pity for her. Just fact.
“Forget it.” She replaced the paper on the table along with her entire future. She couldn’t take from him. Sure, he lied, but who was she kidding? If he didn’t outright cancel the wedding, she would stay on until her job was complete.
“You can, Juniper. Taking this offer doesn’t hurt anyone. Plus, there’s a reason I’ve amped up the benefits of working for me.”
“Ahh…I thought there was something. I mean how guilty could you get over a single lie?”
“A recent development has come up with my board members and I need your help. This fee will cover your additional work.” He insisted and snatched up a blue pen from the table and signed on the line allotted for his name before she could get a word in.
“Now, all you have to do is sign too.” He pushed the paper and pen her way.
“And if I don’t? Why are you so determined to have a shotgun wedding when it’s clear you don’t want it? I know it’s not my place to ask, but you looked pressured yet have no bride. This feels like a drug deal only we’re not in the back of some shitty hideaway house somewhere and you’re not some drug kingpin. Right?”
He sighed heavily and leaned back in his chair. “Two years ago when my father got sick he was in and out of the hospital a lot.”
She studied the coffee mug in her hands. “I remember you saying as much.”
He pushed back in the chair and rested his head against the back. “When we all learned that my father had limited time with us, he became a little rushed. He changed. Before the illness, his work and the company were equal to his family on his list of priorities. But when he found out how much time was on the clock, or rather how little of it, he did a one-eighty and family became everything to him. Don’t get me wrong. He loved us and our mother and loved having us in his office. Growing up, we spent more time there than at home.”
