His eyes find mine. “Miss Shaw.”
“Yes?” I reply in a soft tone.
“Mr. Abdon is ill.” He swallows hard. “He told me that he has limited time left. He wants to spend the next two to three months in New York City tying up loose ends with the business. Then he plans on returning to Paris to live his final days. You’ll need to stay married to me until he’s back in France or God forbid if he doesn’t make it back, until he…”
I draw in a quick breath. “He’s sick?”
“He doesn’t want anyone to know.” He squeezes my hand. “I made a promise to him that I’d keep that between the two of us.”
Tears threaten, but I blink them back, determined to keep a sound mind during this discussion.
“Mr. Abdon has no family to speak of,” he goes on. “This marriage that he believes has taken place means a great deal to him.”
This changes everything. Mr. Abdon is a good person.
I met him when I was in the lobby of this building. I walked into the wrong skyscraper on my way to a job interview. I asked Mr. Abdon to help direct me to the right place, not realizing who he was.
He asked to see a copy of my resume. I showed him the one in my purse, and he hired me on the spot to be the assistant to the CEO.
My gaze drops to the prenup.
If I can help keep a smile on Mr. Abdon’s face while he’s in Manhattan, that’s worth more than any amount of money my boss is offering. I admit the money won’t go to waste, though.
“Deceiving him when he was across an ocean was hard enough,” he confesses. “I can’t look him in the eye and tell him we’re married if we’re not. I need this to happen, Miss Shaw. He’s the best person I’ve ever known. I want his final days to be happy.”
“I’ll marry you,” I whisper. “But I’m only doing it for Mr. Abdon.”
“That’s the only reason I’m marrying you,” my future husband says. “Sign on the dotted line, Miss Shaw, and let’s get to the courthouse.”
Chapter Six
Graham
Jesus. What a goddamn day this is turning out to be.
I was moving through the trials and tribulations of any typical weekday when my boss tossed me a curveball that upended my entire life. I didn’t foresee Lloyd Abdon making a last minute trip to Manhattan, but it’s happening.
I’m standing in front of Judge Peggy Mycella with my assistant by my side as we exchange vows.
“I do,” I blurt out, likely before I was prompted to.
Miss Shaw glances at me with some serious side-eye.
Peggy sighs. “Graham, it wasn’t your turn. I was asking Trina if she takes you to be her lawfully wedded husband.”
“I don’t have a choice,” Miss Shaw answers.
That drives Peggy’s gaze in her direction. “You always have a choice, Trina.”
My assistant shakes her head. “My choice is to do the right thing, so I have to do it. I have to marry him.”
“Are you pregnant?” Peggy asks. “I realize that asking that question is outside of the boundary of everything that is appropriate, but I know firsthand that a capable woman can raise a child on her own. Besides, Graham may be far from perfect, but given his past, I trust that he would step up and help monetarily and in other ways with his child.”
What the fuck?
“Pregnant?” Miss Shaw’s mouth drops open. “We’ve never had sex.”
Peggy’s eyes widen as her gaze shifts back to me. “That’s surprising, but I respect it. Waiting until you’re married will make your first time together that much more special.”
For Christ’s sake. I just want this ceremony to be over.
“She does,” I state calmly. “Miss Shaw does take me to be her husband.”
Peggy sighs heavily. “Perhaps we should take a moment to discuss this. I’m wondering if Trina is invested in this as deeply as you are, Graham.”
“I do,” Miss Shaw says. “I’ll do it. Yes. I’ll marry him.”
That’s one hurdle behind me.
I roll my hand in the air. “Get to my part.”
Peggy slides her glasses back up the bridge of her nose and drops her gaze to the paper in her hand. “Graham Locke, do you take this woman to be your lawfully wedded wife? Do you promise to love and honor her, and…”
“I do,” I shout. “I’ll do it all.”
That lures a smile from Peggy. “I love seeing that kind of exuberance from a groom. I suppose you’re in a hurry to get this over with so you can start on the wedding night festivities.”
“Sure,” I say just as Miss Shaw drops a muted, “no way” from her lips.
I yank the ring box I tried to give my almost wife earlier out of my jacket pocket. I pop open the lid. “Let’s get to the rings.”
Peggy bends down to look at the stunning five-carat diamond ring I bought a few hours ago. “Oh, my word, that is a ring.”
It was the store clerk’s choice. She went on about how any woman would be forever grateful to wear this ring. I rushed her along by waving my credit card in her face after telling her to pick a wedding band for me. Once we found one that fit, I paid and took off with both rings.
I dive my hand back into my pocket to retrieve the plain silver band that will adorn my ring finger for the next ninety days.
We go through the task of sliding rings on each other’s fingers before we turn to face Peggy one last time.
“By the power vested in me by the State of New York, I now pronounce you husband and wife,” she pauses. “You may now kiss your bride, Graham.”
I turn to Miss Shaw.
Wanting to avoid any further questions from Peggy, I intend to close out this show with a memorable kiss.
My wife has other plans.
She plants a hand on my shoulder, leans closer, and touches her lips to my cheek.
The first thing I noticed about Miss Shaw when I met her was how unbelievably beautiful she is.
She’s tall. I’m six feet, and when she’s in heels, as she is now, we’re nose to nose.
Her blue eyes are strikingly vibrant. They are mesmerizing to the point that it’s distracting. Her hair is golden blonde, and when she doesn’t pin it up, it cascades around her shoulders.
When Lloyd announced that she was my new assistant, I panicked briefly. If I had bumped into her in the lobby that day instead of him, I would have asked her out and likely pursued her until I had her in bed.
Since I’ve gotten to know her, I’ve realized that we’re far too different to connect on any level other than one that aligns us as allies in the office.
Yet, here we are.
Married temporarily, and it’s all because of my reckless pursuit to please a man who gave me a chance when no one else would.
I owe Lloyd Abdon far more than I can ever repay him for.
I only hope what I did today will give him some sense of joy.
“Can I go home now?” Miss Shaw asks as we exit the courthouse.
I didn’t think this plan through to the point of living arrangements, but since Lloyd isn’t set to step on a plane bound for New York for a few more hours, I nod. “Of course.”