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“And so you’re going to let him win?”
“Huh?” I tentatively peek out through my fingers, my eyebrows knotting together. What the hell is she talking about?
She hops up to sit on top of the desk, letting her feet dangle over the edge, swinging them back and forth like we’re not in a professional setting right now. “Look at it this way. You want to prove him wrong by being the best, yeah? Like a biggo fuck yourself?”
“Yeah,” I say slowly, slumping back in my chair to stare at her suspiciously.
“But without his help, we’re pretty much failing too, so it’s kind of hypocritical to stick a middle finger up at him.”
“God, we’re so fucked,” I groan as I slam my face back down onto the desk. The chipboard is still hard enough to hurt. I let out another groan, this time at a different kind of pain.
At least Kelly’s fingers massaging my scalp are a reprieve from my stress headache. She’s so reliable like that — she always takes a chunk of the world off my plate. Usually, anyway. Her words today aren’t exactly comforting. “So, what I’m saying is, maybe we should listen to his idea.”
The huff of disbelief I let out sends a warm wave of moisture up my face, making me sit back up again. I’m like one of those stupid, confused birds that go round in circles and looks like they’re about to break their own necks. “You want me tomarryhim? You don’t hear how completely, totally ridiculous that sounds?”
“It’s weird, yeah, but you did say you had a crush on him once.”
“We had a single night together, eight years ago! We don’t even know each otherat allanymore! Sure, he’s still attractive, but you can’tmarrysomeone on some crazy whim because he’s rich and I’m desperate. You do see how insane that is, right?”
Kelly folds her arms. I’m really in for it now. She’s got an idea in her head and once she has that, there’s no stopping her. The last time she was this insistent on anything was three or four years ago when we were faced with half a dozen rich businessmen and a casino. Yet somehow we managed to get out of there with more money than we came in with, a fate they weren’t lucky enough to share. We also got a pretty good deal out of that one.
I adore her, and most days, her being stubborn is useful, but right now it’s going to make me scream.
“Candice, listen to me. I’m not saying you have to marry him tomorrow, or, like, make a big show of it. Negotiate with him, tell him you refuse to have a wedding. People have arranged marriages all the time.”
“Your line of argument here really is that arranged marriages are a great idea?” I raise the most dubious eyebrow it is possible to raise.
She sighs. “No, I guess not. My argument is, you need him, he’s not bad to look at, and he wants you. You marry him, take his stuff, live your own fabulous life — andboom! Problem solved.”
“I’m glad you’re so confident,” I mutter. “I think he probably would want to see hiswifemore than once a year.”
“Look, give him a go, yeah? What’s the worst that could happen?”
“Do you want the complete list or the abridged one?”
We lock eyes, entering into a silent duel, drawing our guns. Whoever flinches first loses and has to ride out of town on a horse of shame. At least, that’s what I’m telling her in my mind. Inhermind, she’s telling me, “For God’s sake, stop being so proud and accept some help for a change!”
It’s kind of more complicated than that, but — even though it is absolutely agonizing to do this — I have to admit that she’s right.
“Okay,” I concede, grabbing the envelope and tearing it open. Whoever put this packet together did a damn good job, considering how fast they must have done it. Everything looks incredibly crisp and clear. “Let’s say I choose to go along with this madness. I still think it’s crazy to marry a man I barely know.”
“So, go out with him,” says Kelly like that was an obvious point I somehow missed.
“I’m not dating Aiden Fletcher. The last thing I want is to get ripped to shreds in the media. Imagine if my face got on TV! I’d never live that down.”
Kelly gives me the deepest frown she’s ever given me, swiveling on the desk to face me, legs crossed. “Candice, I’m not saying you have to actuallydatehim. Go somewhere. Do something. Chat. Catch up. Maybe he’s changed.”
“Maybe he hasn’t.”
“And how would you know that?”
We lock eyes again, but I have no more argument left in me. The truth is, seeing Aiden again has created a storm in me and I don’t think it’s going to quiet down until I put this whole situation to rest one way or another. “Okay, what do you suggest, then? Weekend in Rome? Walking the Great Wall of China? Getting smashed at a luxury hotel?”
She rolls her eyes but can’t contain the grin of victory. “Too dramatic. Invite him to Desert Cove.” I give her a blank look until she elaborates. “The oasis? Don’t you know it?”
“No, actually,” I say, intrigued.
“Oh, well it’s super pretty, not that far away, and really quiet and secluded. Plus there’s this spa that does retreats for couples and businesspeople, designed to get you back in touch with your true self and release your inner spirits or whatever.”
