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“And what would you have me do?”
He says, “Make this right with her. You two belong together.”
I don’t answer, turning my attention to my computer. He sighs, leaving a moment later.
What he doesn’t know is there’s no happy ending for me. My chance of happiness was stolen all those years ago when Alex Triton took everything I loved away from me. Could Ari make me happy? Undoubtedly. Do I deserve to be happy? No. So, I’m going through with this plan just as I’ll marry Jane. Because a man like me doesn’t deserve happiness.
17
Ari
My mother always used to tell me and my sisters not to go to bed angry because the feelings would harden into resentment. Well, there might be something to that, because I wake up cursing Kieran. How can he still want to send me away? How?
I purposely don’t go to his office like I’m supposed to, but he doesn’t come and find me, so I guess it doesn’t matter. Bile creeps up my throat and I have to swallow a few times before I can make myself get out of bed. After showering and dressing in a nice dress, I open the door and call for Seb. He’s there a moment later.
“Everything okay, Ari?”
I point at my dark blue dress. “Is this okay? For lunch, I mean. I want to make the best impression, you know?”
He gives me a reassuring smile. “You look beautiful, Ari.”
My eyes water and I let out a small laugh. “It’s stupid to be nervous, right? I mean, it’s a done deal. It’s not like this is even an actual date.”
“Being nervous is to be expected.” He pauses, his gaze searching mine. “Did you speak to Kieran?”
“No.”
“Will you promise me you will? We both know he’s too stubborn.”
Something in my chest pulls. “It won’t do any good, Seb, but I’ll try.”
“Thank you.” He smiles. “Your car is waiting to take you to your meeting.”
“Meeting. I think I like calling it that instead of a date. It makes it feel less intimidating.”
“Good.”
I follow him from the room, hoping I’ll see Kieran on the way out. I don’t.
Outside, he says, “You’ll find a folder inside the car with information on John Greystoke.”
“Is that the man I’m meeting?”
“Yes.”
A black car with tinted windows is waiting and I slide into the back, letting out an audible sigh. I can do this. I have to.
Just like Seb said, there’s a folder waiting on the seat for me. Opening it, I read up on the man that I’ll be meeting in less than an hour. It’s all so very clinical, stating his name, age, net worth, businesses he owns, and other things that might matter to a businessperson. None of this matters to me, though.
There’s only one photo, and it looks recent. John Greystoke looks like a grandfather. I knew he was going to be old. I mean, Kieran did say he’d find me someone close to their deathbed. But seeing how old he really is, well, it’s eye-opening. Like, I can’t imagine having sex with him. Not when he looks like he could play Santa. I tuck the photo in the back of the folder just so I don’t keep tormenting myself with it.
My hands are clammy as the car comes to a stop in front of the swanky hotel owned by Malik Jafar an hour later on the dot. A valet opens my door and I climb out, making my way inside. I’m greeted by a woman who works for the hotel and led to an elevator, where we climb high into the sky. When the doors open, I’m met with soft classical music playing overhead, which reminds me of Kieran. No. I can’t do that to myself. It’s not worth it. Moving further into the restaurant, I spot John Greystoke sitting at a table near a window that overlooks most of the New York City skyline. He’s old, but I already expected that from the photo inside of the folder. His hair is snowy white, and he has wrinkly skin, reminding me of what every grandfather should look like. His beard and moustache remind me again of jolly old Saint Nick, and I bite back a groan. Christmas may forever be ruined for me.
And this is the man I’m supposed to marry.
Forcing a smile on my lips, I make my way toward him. He stands, using a cane to support his weight.
“Ms. Triton. A pleasure to meet you.”
