Cox
By the time I got home that afternoon, I still had a fucking headache. I left my sunglasses on and went straight for the kitchen. My personal chef had already meal-prepped, so I grabbed a finished meal and popped it in the microwave.
I headed over to the liquor cabinet and eyed the bottles for about three seconds before deciding more alcohol was not what my body needed right now.
Instead, I grabbed my dinner out of the microwave—something with chicken and vegetables that smelled great—and took it to the dining table.
I’d bought this house on Lake Washington mostly for the view—it was spectacular from almost every window. And the house itself was gorgeous. It had hardwood floors and the original trim and baseboards. I liked a house with character, and this one had plenty.
I ate my dinner and was about to get up to take a shower when the front door opened. I groaned at the sound of high heels clicking on the hardwood floor. She hadn’t wasted any time, had she?
Althea swept in, dressed like she was on her way to the office, even though it was a Sunday evening. She had an annoying habit of barging in here unannounced to discuss things that could wait until we were at the office. It had gotten worse since her divorce last year.
“What the hell, Cox?”
“Nice to see you, too. My trip was great, thanks for asking.”
“I realize your trip was great.” She held up her phone.
I took off my sunglasses and peered at her phone. It was a photo on someone’s Instagram of me with Drake Meadows.
And Sophie.
I ignored it. “Calloway is interested. I expect he’ll sign by the end of the week.”
She opened her mouth like she’d meant to keep ranting at me, but paused. “The meeting went well?”
“Very well. He likes what we’re planning. I’ll have Oliver send the full prospectus tomorrow.”
“Well at least you have some good news.”
I sat back in my chair and crossed my arms. “I was in Vegas. Things got a little crazy. What are you, the morality police?”
“Hardly. But need I remind you that this project is already on thin ice thanks to Dominic’s extracurricular activities?”
“Then you’ll be happy to know there weren’t any hookers.”
She rolled her eyes. “That’s something.”
“For fuck’s sake, Althea. I partied with some rock stars in Vegas. It’s not like it’s the first time. What’s the problem?”
“Your image is the problem. Another scandal right now wouldn’t just ruin the project. It could ruin you.”
“Stop being dramatic.”
“I’m not being dramatic, I’m being practical. One of us has to be.”
“On the contrary, I’m immensely practical.”
Shaking her head, she walked to the liquor cabinet and helped herself to a glass of whiskey. “You’re ridiculous. That’s what you are.”
I drummed my fingers on the table, my eyes on my empty plate. Should I tell her? She was going to find out sooner or later, and the tongue-lashing would probably be worse if I waited. Might as well rip the bandage off now. Get it the fuck over with.
“There’s something else.”
She paused with her glass halfway to her lips. “What?”
“I got married.”
“That’s not funny, Cox.”
“It’s not a joke.”
She laughed and took a long swallow. “Of course it’s a joke. Got married to who?”
“Sophie Abbott.”
“Who the fuck is Sophie Abbott?”
The way she said Sophie’s name with barely disguised venom almost made me fly out of my seat. My jaw hitched and I clenched my hands into fists. “She’s the woman I married last night.”
“What the hell are you talking about?”
I stood, grabbing my plate, and took it to the kitchen. “I don’t know how I can possibly be more clear. I got married. Her name is Sophie. We knew each other as kids.”
Althea followed me in. “Jesus fucking Christ, you’re serious?”
“Yeah, but I hardly think it calls for that level of alarm.”
“Is it legal? God, please tell me it wasn’t legal.”
“Come on. You know me. I don’t do anything halfway. Of course it was legal.”
“You’re telling me that you married some random girl in Vegas last night?”
“She’s not some random girl. I told you, she’s Sophie Abbott. I’ve known her for years.” I allowed myself a slight stretch of the truth with that one.
Her eyes flashed with anger. “How could you be so reckless?”
I chuckled as I refilled my water. “Well, to be fair, I was pretty drunk.”
She slammed her whiskey down on the counter. “You are un-fucking-believable. You go to Vegas for a goddamn business meeting and instead of blowing some money in a casino and anonymously fucking some girl who’s too young for you, you get married? Legally married?”
I scowled at her. She was making too big of a deal out of this. “At least I wasn’t doing lines of coke off a hooker’s ass. Marriage is wholesome, and Sophie is—” I cut myself off because I’d been about to say perfect.
“A quickie Vegas marriage followed by a messy divorce is not wholesome. That’s a fucking scandal.”
“Who said anything about a messy divorce?”
“You’re not going to stay married to her.”
“Of course not.”
“You don’t get it, do you? There’s no prenup. That one drunken mistake could cost you millions.”
I waved that off. “Sophie wouldn’t do that.”
“Any woman would do that. Why else did she marry you?”
Leaning against the counter, I hesitated for a second. Why had she married me? Because we were drunk? That was true. We had been drunk as fuck, but what had made a drunk Sophie Abbott think that marrying me was a good idea?
I didn’t know the answer to that, nor did I know how I could be so sure Sophie wasn’t a gold-digging opportunist. But somehow, I was sure of it. She wasn’t.
“Look, Sophie isn’t coming after my money. We’ll just get a quick annulment and it’ll be like it never happened.”
“It’s not that easy. You can’t just get a marriage annulled, even a Vegas marriage.”
“You’re the lawyer. I’m sure you can handle it.”
She practically spit fire at me. “Unless you want to claim that you coerced her—or she coerced you—I don’t think even I can spin this to make you qualify for an annulment.”
“So we’ll get a divorce. What’s the big deal? It’s just some paperwork.”
“A divorce isn’t just some paperwork. Trust me.”
I tipped my head in acknowledgment. She would know.
“And then there’s the fact that you don’t have a prenup.”
“I’m really looking forward to Sophie proving you wrong on this one. She’s not after my money. Worst case scenario, I’ll offer her a settlement. It’ll be fine.”
“I don’t know how you can be so cavalier about this. The biggest project of your career hangs in the balance and you don’t think a very public divorce after a drunken Vegas wedding is a problem.”