A Deal With the Devil (14 page)

“Might I remind you this mess was
your
genius idea?” She shook her head, amazed to be the calm one in this scenario. “From where I sit, the solution is simple. We’ll just call off the deal.”

“That won’t help. We’d be right back where we started three days ago.”

“Not true. Max offered to invest in your business before you rudely dismissed the idea.” She shot him a reproachful look. “And you
were
rude, by the way.”

“I don’t want anything from that man. And I wasn’t rude. I’d call it being direct.”

“
That man
is your grandfather and—direct or not—you need to show him respect.”

Jake thrust his thumb in the general direction of Max’s condo. “
That man
tried to control every moment of my father’s life until he drank himself into oblivion and wrapped his Ferrari around a tree.”

“Max isn’t to blame for the way your father’s life turned out. At some point, we all have to take responsibility for our own actions.”

“Oh, and those words mean so much when they come from the girl who’s given her brother a hundred grand she doesn’t have and who spends every moment bailing his ass out of bad decisions.”

Amanda drew in a sharp breath. “How did you. . . ?” She stopped short and expelled a long breath.
Don’t let him get to you. Who cares what he thinks he knows about my reasons for doing this.
She folded her arms and said, “Don’t try to change the subject. This isn’t about my family; it’s about yours.”

“Well please spare me the pop psychology BS.” Jake loosened his tie and raked a hand through hair already mad professor disheveled. “You haven’t spent enough time with Max. Once you do, you’ll understand.”

“You need to calm down. You’re not thinking clearly,” she said “Also, your hair is sticking up.” She pointed at the top of his head.

“Who gives a rat’s ass about my hair? We’re in an unholy mess here in case it’s escaped you.” He glared at her. “And as it relates to my grandfather, I decided long ago that I want nothing from him.”

She tried to ignore his mania. “But you
do
want something from him. You want your trust fund, which bulges—by the way—with the money
he’s
made the last several decades. What’s the difference if you get the money from your trust or if you just let him invest through his foundation the way he wants to do?”

“There’s all the difference in the world.” He pointed his thumb at his chest. “The trust fund is
my
money. I’m entitled to it.”

“Actually, it’s
his
money,” she pointed out. “So he gets to decide the terms by which you can access it and in this case, it’s after you marry. Which brings us back to my original point; I won’t marry you.”

Jake scowled. “You aren’t helping.”

“You don’t need my help. There’s a simple solution and you’re so blinded by emotion, you’ve missed it.”

Jake flopped down next to her. “How do you figure?”

Amanda leaned forward to emphasize her point. “Max basically offered to invest in your business.” She shrugged. “Let him. We can stay engaged for a while after you get the money to maintain appearances.”

“I’m not groveling for dollars the way my father always did.”

Amanda threw her hands high. “Again, I don’t get it. Why would an investment in your business be any different from the money in your trust?”

“Payments from the trust happen automatically—a very different thing than having to grovel to Max. He’d give me the money to feed his need for control, but it would be humiliating. I watched my father do it too many times and long ago, I promised myself I’d never stoop to that behavior.”

“Jake, your reasoning makes no—”

“When I say I want nothing from him, I mean it.” His elbows rested on his knees. “I plan to use just enough of my trust fund to get the business started and as soon as it starts bringing in revenue, the first thing I’ll do is pay it all back. And then, I’ll never touch the trust again; ever.”

“So I guess it’s out of the question to suggest you go to work for him—just for a few years until you either save or raise enough money to start your business.”

“No way,” Jake said. “I won’t spend one second of my life hawking cable to a bunch of potato-chip-eating, beer-swilling couch potatoes.”

She arched a brow. “I’d be careful with labels of that sort. I’ve seen your fifty-inch flat screen, remember?”

“You know what I mean. I like football and beer as much as the next guy. But I won’t earn my living that way.”

“That’s a tad hypocritical.”

He shrugged. “Not really. The cable industry is fine, but it means nothing to me. I want to make a difference; to help people who are truly in need and deserve it.”

“Before you can make a difference, you have to get your business funded,” she reminded him. “And you might find you need a little infusion of cash from the cable industry in order to do so.”

He crossed his arms. “Are you always this reasonable? It’s really irritating, in case you wondered.”

She choked back an urge to laugh. He reminded her of an angry little boy, pouting because he hadn’t gotten his way—especially with the sprig of hair bobbing about every time he moved his head.

He leaned forward and continued. “The way I see it, we have to get married. We’re out of options.”

“We have options.” She hadn’t thought of any yet, but she knew she could come up with something.

“Since I won’t grovel to my grandfather, I’d love to know the other choices you believe we have.”

She could think of several things and a fake real marriage to him wouldn’t even make the list. “You could postpone the plan to start your own business.”

Jake shook his head. “No. I have buddies who’ve sacrificed
everything
. They need the help my company can give them today
,
not a few years from now.”

Amanda pursed her lips. She couldn’t believe this whole mess had started with a simple weekend getaway. More specifically, it had started six months ago with her decision to loan her brother money because if she hadn’t done that, she wouldn’t be in debt and if she wasn’t in debt, she would never have agreed to fake an engagement with him

“We need to comply with the terms of the trust and take our deal to the next level.” He laid a hand on her knee and turned to face her. “This is my only option. I need your help.”

She shifted away in an attempt to dislodge his hand, but it remained maddeningly in place which was incredibly distracting at a time when she needed to concentrate. “Get married.” She lifted his hand and placed it on the sofa. “You’re
serious
.”

Jake nodded.

“I can’t. Jake, I just
can’t
. I felt low enough pretending to be engaged and lying to Max. To fake a real marriage—followed by a real divorce
—
well . . .” She tipped her chin down as she shook her head. “It would just be taking this whole thing too far.”

He watched her intently. “What would it take to get you to agree?”

“You can’t afford it.”

“Try me. Money isn’t the obstacle here. I’ve got plenty; I just have to play my grandfather’s game in order to get my hands on it.”

She shook her head more vehemently. She wasn’t marrying anyone she didn’t intend to stay married to for the rest of her life—especially when it came to the only man she’d ever loved. “We’ve already gone down that path and look where it got us,” she said. “I won’t screw up my future trying to fix problems from my past.”

“I believe your past may be the way to your future,” he said.

She frowned. “That makes no sense.”

“Think,” he said. “You could have a ton of money in the bank, live your Paris dream and—”

“But I’d have to fake a marriage and then get a real divorce. Meantime, I’ll have lost a few years of my life. Why would I do that? I turn
thirty
in a matter of days. I want a family, kids. If I do as you suggest I’ll be headed in the wrong direction.”

He leaned forward. “If you do it my way, you’ll get what you want much sooner. You’ll have financial freedom, you’ll be divorced. You’ll be able to move on with your life, free and clear. If you do it your way, you won’t be able to help you brother and you may never get that year in Paris.”

Her gaze locked with his and a long silence stretched between them as she considered his words.

“If you do it my way, you can have it all. You can get everything you want—just like that.” He snapped his fingers to emphasize the last word.

“I don’t know if I can do it,” she whispered.

He stood. “I know it’s messed up, but from where I sit, my approach is the only option.” He strode toward the door.

“What if I want out?”

Jake shrugged into his jacket. “If you say no, I’ll respect your decision and we’ll cancel the agreement. We’ll devise a break-up story, you’ll give me back the advance and we’ll consider it done.”

She drew in a sharp breath. The money; shit! How the hell had she forgotten about the money. She’d paid off most of her bills that morning. If she backed out now, she owed that same huge sum to Jake Lowell. Cold tentacles of fear slithered around her as she followed him to the door and for the first time that evening, the solution to their problem suddenly didn’t seem so clear.

Jake reached for the doorknob and then turned back to face her. “This option is our best alternative. But if you still haven’t accepted that fact, I’ll give you a day to consider it.” He held up his index finger. “One day. Let me know your decision tomorrow.”

Amanda closed the door behind him and leaned against it as she replayed Jake’s words. She could have everything she wanted just like that.

My ass.

She turned the deadbolt and it clicked into place. But instead of feeling safe and secure, she’d never felt more vulnerable or petrified in her entire life.

Maxwell Lowell’s trap had been brilliantly set and she and Jake had walked right into it.

Chapter Eight

hat’s such a big emergency it couldn’t wait until after yoga?” Kate didn’t bother to hide her irritation as she struggled into the booth; her baby bump making the maneuver difficult.

“A peace offering,” Amanda said, as she pushed a coffee cup and a paper plate across the table. “Grande skinny decaf latte with a sprinkle of mocha and a slice of fat free cinnamon cake, as ordered.”

“I didn’t order cake.”

“You’ll want a slice after this chat, trust me.”

“What’s up?” Kate popped the lid off her latte and took a sip.

Amanda drew a deep breath and leaned back in the booth. “We have to get married.”

“You’re pregnant?” Kate squealed. “I didn’t even know you guys
did it
!”

Amanda’s cheeks burned and she slouched down in the booth in an attempt to hide. Several people seated nearby whispered; more than a few were laughing. She leaned forward held a hand up to shield her face and said, “A little
louder
next time. I don’t think your two sisters back home in Birmingham heard you.”