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“I made him a pretty good chicken casserole the other day. He liked my dumplings.”
“I bet he did.”
I giggle, and she laughs.
“Come on,” she wheedles, “what’s going on? The two of you have been together in that house for days. I know you like him. Are you seriously telling me nothing has happened between you?”
“Not like that,” I say honestly. Then I give in, desperate to talk about it to someone. “But we are getting married next week.”
“Well I thought he’d be—wait, what?”
I give another nervous giggle. “That stopped you in your tracks.”
“What are you talking about?”
“It’s not what you think.” I sigh. “He went to see his lawyer about getting custody of Leia, and the lawyer told him he’d stand a much better chance if he were married. So he asked me to marry him, as a business proposition, and he offered me a million dollars to do it.”
Gaby’s silent for so long, I start to wonder if I’ve lost the signal. “Hello?”
“Jesus,” she says.
“Yeah, I know.”
“And you said yes?”
“After a long deliberation, yeah. I need the money. And, I want him to get Leia. You didn’t see that couple, Gabs. They were horrible. They didn’t look at Leia once in that café—all they could think about was squeezing as much money out of James as they could. I can’t bear the thought of them getting custody of her.”
“Aw,” she says softly, “you sound as if you’ve really fallen for… that baby.”
I don’t miss the pause. My lips curve up. “I didn’t do it for him. Well, maybe a little. But my main motivation was Leia.”
She hesitates. “It sounds like a good idea… But have you thought it through? You know it takes a two-year separation before you can get a divorce?”
“Yeah. He said that’s what the money’s for.”
“It’s a huge commitment.”
“I know.”
“So what’s the plan? You stay in the house for two years? Are you… you know… going to… live together?”
“It wasn’t a romantic proposal. He didn’t go down on one knee or anything. But he’s worried that Blue’s lawyer might try to put a case together saying that we did it to get Leia, because it won’t make him look good.”
“So you’re going to pretend it’s a love match?”
“Er… yeah. Kinda.”
“Oh, this is going to end well. He knows you’re religious, right?”
“I’m not religious.”
“But you believe in the sanctity of marriage. ‘Therefore shall a man leave his father and his mother, and shall cleave unto his wife: and they shall be one flesh.’”
I shiver at the thought of cleaving with James. “Yes, but—”
“‘Wherefore they are no more twain, but one flesh. What, therefore, God hath joined together, let not man put apart.’”
“Why are you quoting scripture at me? You’re not religious either.”
