“I get it,” I interrupted her before she talked me out of getting in the car. “I didn’t expect you to actually come up with a list.” She’d clearly been putting some thought into this. Still, I had considered all of those things myself, and I’d come up with a solution. I would keep my head down and keep my mouth shut. How much trouble could I get into if I stayed quiet most of the time?
“So, have you thought more about… you know?” Eliza arched an eyebrow suggestively and made a gesture with her hands.
“What?” Trying to decipher her meaning.
“You know…”
“I don’t,” I said with confusion.
“About sleeping with Spencer.” She dropped her voice to a low whisper, so no one passing us on the street would overhear.
“Oh. That,” I said flatly. “Nope.” That was a lie. I hadn’t thought of anything else. The truth was that I was less afraid of messing this up, or saying the wrong thing—or even being found out—than I was at the prospect of going to bed with a man I’d never met. “Am I a terrible person for doing this?”
“People sleep with people for money all the time,” she said, waving off my concern.
“Yeah,” I said with a hollow laugh that seemed to echo in my chest. “They’re called prostitutes.”
“And trophy wives and gold diggers,” she giggled.
“You’re not helping.” But I couldn’t help laughing with her. It was so utterly absurd to be in this situation. Only a few days ago I was worried about making my half of the rent, and now I was off to London to live in the lap of luxury for a year. I kept waiting to wake up from this insane dream I was having and discover I’d fallen and hit my head.
“I need to get to the pub,” Eliza said, checking her watch. “Unless you want me to wait with you.”
I did want her to wait, but I understood that Ron was expecting her. Given that he had found himself down a waitress, I couldn’t keep her here without making his life harder. Eliza was pulling double duty until they could straighten things out at the pub. “No, you go. I feel terrible you have to cover for me.”
“You’d cover for me if I had a chance at ten million pounds,” she said, and I didn’t disagree. Friends did not stand in the way of success. They helped you clear a path to it. Eliza had done just that. “Just buy me a tiara or something when you get your money.”
“Done,” I promised her. “And he said there will be a stipend, so I’ll send rent.”
“You don’t have to do that,” she said automatically, shooting me a tight smile. We both knew she meant it, even if it wasn’t true. She did need me to help out, and I would. I couldn’t just leave her behind without a second thought. Eliza lurched forward and gave me an awkward hug, whispering in my ear, “Call me and let me know you’re okay.”
“As soon as I get there.”
“You’re doing the right thing,” she said, pulling away, her eyes shining like she might cry. “Even if it feels crazy.”
“Are you sure?” I asked, echoing her earlier question.
“Life isn’t worth living if you don’t do something crazy now and then.” She smiled brightly at me as if to drive the point home. “You’ve got this.”
“I’ll call you tonight,” I called after her as she started down the block toward the Hare & Hound. It was strange to watch her walk away. She’d only been part of my life for a few months, but I couldn’t help thinking as she disappeared around the corner that my old life was vanishing, too. It already felt like it was slipping away. Almost like I’d never existed. I hadn’t exactly put a dent in the world. That was changing. I might not be Kerrigan Belmond, but in a year’s time, I would have more money than I could even fathom. Considering that most of the time there was a negative symbol in front of my bank account balance, it was hard to imagine what it would be like on the other side of this arrangement. I could buy a house. I could travel. I could shop. I’d never really thought about any of those things before. My life had been about getting by and staying alive for as long as I could remember. What would my life look like when I wasn’t in survival mode?
Before I could consider that question, a black car with windows tinted so darkly that I couldn’t see inside pulled up to the front of my building. I took a step back from the street to allow whoever was inside to get out. It wasn’t every day that a Mercedes found its way to Bexby. Actually, I’d never seen one in the sleepy village before. To my surprise, the driver opened the door and stepped out. He was dressed in a black suit and sporting a cap, which he tipped in my direction.
“Miss Belmond?” he asked me.
It took me a second to process two things: the first was that he wasn’t wearing a suit. He was wearing a uniform. The second was that he was talking to me.
“Yes,” I said, turning on a million-watt smile. “Sorry, I was expecting a cab.”
“I think you’ll find this more comfortable.” He grinned at me as he opened the back passenger door.
I slid inside, doing my best to look like this wasn’t the first time I’d done so. “Thank you.”
“There’s water and bourbon in the console,” he informed me before closing the door and returning to the driver’s seat.
I appreciated his suggestion. The back of the sedan was broken in two by a glossy center console that housed a small tablet. The seat’s quilted leather nearly swallowed me as the seatbelt moved automatically within reach. I took it, wondering what I’d discover next. I studied the thin grooves etched into the gleaming surface before reaching to tap one. It opened and a cupholder rose in its place. Looking around I found another between the seats. It opened to reveal a refrigerated section that held water bottles and a bottle of the aforementioned bourbon. I took a bottle of water and placed it in the cupholder.
“Please let me know if I can see to your comfort,” he told me as he started the car with a push of a button.
I did my best not to ogle as I took in the elegant stitching along with the leather upholstery. An emblem emblazoned with the word Maybach informed me what kind of car I was in. I made a mental note to consider buying one of my own when my money came through in a year’s time. I would be responsible with most of it, but maybe a splurge or two wouldn’t hurt. Then again, this wasn’t exactly a low-profile vehicle. Once the ruse was over and I no longer had the cover of Kerrigan’s name, I needed to keep myself off the radar. My hand skirted over the buttery leather armrest to the tablet, discovering that offered me a variety of options from extending a footrest to a massage. I chose both, feeling that I might as well spoil myself while I had the chance.
The drive to London was largely pastoral when we reached the edge of the village, complete with rolling hills and cattle. Between the massage, which went all the way to my calves, and the smooth ride, my eyes were growing heavy. I glanced at the shiny new mobile phone that had arrived at my flat this morning with a note that I should read a collection of dossiers that had been loaded onto it. I’d planned to spend the journey doing just that, but as I relaxed into the first moments of my new, temporary life, I decided a nap couldn’t hurt.