“I’ll see you in the morning,” he says as he breaks our embrace. “I hope you and your hubby have a good night.”
I have no idea what my husband is about to do with the rest of his night, but my plans involve a bubble bath, some Netflix, and a self pep talk focused on getting through tomorrow as my boss’s wife.
“We will.” Graham nods sagely.
I glance in his direction to find him staring at me.
I arch an eyebrow before I turn my attention back to Lloyd. “Goodnight, Mr. Abdon.”
“Goodnight, Mrs. Locke.” He winks. “I sure like the sound of that.”
That makes one of us.
I can’t wait until I can drop this lie, so that I can go back to my simple life as Trina Shaw.
Chapter Fourteen
Graham
“Trina,” I call out my assistant’s name as soon as I notice something is out of place.
She glances in the direction of my office. “Yes, sir?”
I curl a finger to urge her toward me. “I need to speak with you in private.”
Pushing back from her desk, she glances to the right and then to the left. “This is private.”
She’s right, of course.
I inherited this office from Lloyd when he decided to retire. It’s tucked away from the other offices of the executives of the company. They have to tug open a heavy glass door, trudge down a long corridor, turn a corner and pass Miss Shaw before they have access to me.
No one, but the two of us, is present at the moment.
“Come in my office now, Miss Shaw.”
She skims a palm over the front of the skirt she’s wearing. If there’s anything I can depend on day-to-day, it’s that my assistant will always be wearing a plain blouse and a pencil skirt.
The color of the garments varies, as do the shoes she chooses to wear, but she sticks to the same script every day.
I’m not complaining.
I admired the red skirt and white blouse she has on in my kitchen this morning when I wandered in there after the aroma of freshly brewed coffee greeted me.
I found her settled on a stool next to the island with Lloyd by her side.
He was eating a bowl filled with what looked like oatmeal, fresh fruit, and some seeds sprinkled over the top of it.
There wasn’t a portion waiting for me. I didn’t expect there to be. Miss Shaw signed on as my wife, not my personal chef.
After she left for the office, I spent an hour with Lloyd before I promised him I’d stop at home mid-day to check on him.
Trina brushes past me as she enters my office.
I can’t help but notice the soft scent of her perfume, or perhaps that’s just her.
When the door clicks shut, she turns to face me.
I stay silent while she takes in the gray suit and light blue button-down shirt I’m wearing. I pride myself on looking impeccable every single day.
I’m the CEO of a globally recognized designer watch brand.
When Lloyd handed me the reins to the company, he reminded me that I’m the brand ambassador and to live my life accordingly.
I have, for the most part.
“What can I help you with?” My wife asks in a soft tone.
My cock hardens, as it has every fucking time I’ve been within ten feet of her since we were married two days ago.
I don’t know if it’s her voice, or her body, or a combination of that and the fact that she’s effortlessly beautiful, but it’s becoming increasingly harder to ignore my dick’s reaction to her.
I look at her left hand. “Your rings, Trina. Where are they?”
That sends her gaze to my hands. “You’re wearing your ring? Why?”
“Because we’re married.”
She gives her head a slight shake. “I’m aware.”
I wait for her to expand on that, but she takes on the stance of a woman about to defend her position. Her feet part slightly as her hands fall to her hips.
This is in no way helping me in my battle to overcome this erection.
“You agreed to be my wife for three months,” I remind her as I cross my arms over my chest. “If I wasn’t clear, that was three months full-time. Twenty-four hours a day, Trina.”
Her right hand darts to her left hand. I watch as she rubs her bare ring finger. “I see other people all day, sir. I don’t want anyone who works here asking me who I married.”
I considered that, along with every other possible complication.
“They are bound to find out.”
“Why?” She sighs. “Aren’t we doing all of this for Mr. Abdon’s benefit only? Why drag anyone else into this farce?”
“Farce?” I fight back a chuckle.
“The word fits,” she insists. “This is a farce. It’s a sham. We are pulling the wool over Lloyd’s eyes, and I, for one, feel shitty about it.”
As do I, but I’d feel a whole lot shittier if I didn’t grant him the wish of seeing me married to Miss Shaw before he dies.
“We are making him happy,” I remind her.
Her eyes search my face. “I still feel guilty about it.”
I’d admit the same, but I’ve learned that guilt can be viewed as a burden or an opportunity for real change. If you take that emotion and channel it into something useful, the weight of it lessens.
At least, that’s what I tell myself.
“I haven’t asked,” she begins as she drops her gaze to the floor. “I haven’t wanted to intrude, but I’ve been wondering about Mr. Abdon and his condition. What exactly is wrong with him?”
“It’s his heart.”
“His heart,” she repeats.
Nodding, I shift back to the subject at hand, or the subject about what’s not on her hand. “I need you to wear the rings, Trina. If Lloyd stops by and you’re not wearing them, that’s a discussion neither of us wants or needs.”
Her eyes widen. “He’s coming here today?”
Feeling as though I finally have her full attention, I shrug. “He’s unpredictable.”
“I locked the rings in my desk drawer.” She drops her gaze to her left hand. “I’ll put them back on, sir, but we need to agree on what to tell everyone.”
“Everyone?” I question. “Like who?”
“Like Kay,” she tosses out the name of one of our designers.
Kay is a holdover from Lloyd’s days. She’s still working on designs that hit the market hard decades ago. I haven’t used one of her ideas since I took control of the company.
“We’ll tell Kay, and anyone else who asks, that we’re married.”
It sounds reasonable, but judging by the look of confusion on my wife’s face, I missed the mark with my suggestion.
“We’ll tell her that it started with innocent flirting, and then we went out for a drink after work,” she says softly. “That led to dinner and a night of talking. Fate took over from there, and it became a whirlwind romance.”
Impressed, I nod. “I can work with that.”
“Three months from now, I’ll tell the staff that…”
“You realized that my attitude is more than you can deal with,” I interrupt. “You decided to leave me because the flame that was burning brightly was extinguished by my raging level of assholeness.”