A Deal With the Devil (19 page)

“That’s not fair.” Kate sounded wounded.

“Oh, and that’s not even the best part. I went out with some work friends last night and George brought me home. Jake walked in right before he left.”

“Jake ran into
Gorgeous George
?”

“Yes, Jake ran into Gorgeous George.” Her memory wasn’t great, but she recalled how the two men had stared each other down. “As I recall, there was a whole lot of testosterone flying around.”

Kate giggled. “Oh, wow. If I knew George would show up, it would’ve been worth getting dressed up and sipping Shirley Temples all night. I’m sorry I missed it.”

Amanda stood and reached for the third aspirin. “Why is this funny?”

“I just think it’s a good thing Jake saw you with another guy,” Kate said, a hint of laughter lingered in her tone. “I can just picture the look on his face. It doesn’t hurt that George is such a hottie.” She snickered.

Amanda envisioned Kate rubbing her hands together like some twisted love fairy. “You’re evil.”

“I’m realistic—at least as it relates to men,” Kate said. “It’s good for Jake to think he’s got a little competition.”

“He doesn’t,” Amanda said. “Believe me, I wish he did.”

She popped aspirin number three and washed it down with more Diet Coke. Then she leaned over and placed her elbows on the counter. “If you owned a gun, I’d beg you to shoot me right now.”

“I do own a gun. It’s got a pink and white handle,” Kate said, a twinge of pride in her voice.

Of course she did. “So are you always packing heat?” It was a sobering thought.

“Sometimes. Anyway, tell me what happened,” Kate said, her voice laced with excitement. “And you have to tell me
everything
!” Her drawl stretched the last word into five syllables.

“As I recall, they just gave each other the snake eye for a while, then George left. And then, I agreed to marry Jake.”

“Which is a huge mistake,” Kate said.

“You think? Of
course
it’s a mistake.” Amanda tossed the empty Diet Coke can into the recycle bin and opened the fridge to grab another. “But you’ll be happy to learn, I negotiated a payment just shy of—” she paused and tried to recall the exact figure— “three million dollars.” She popped the top and slouched back over the counter as Kate gasped. “I know,” Amanda said. “It’s ridiculous, but Jake pressed me for a dollar amount and I didn’t have time to think about it, so I blurted out the first thing that came to me.”

“How’d you come up with three million?”

“I asked for five hundred thousand on top of our original agreement, plus the apartment in Paris.”

“Good lord,” Kate whispered.

“I was pissed. He shouldn’t have pushed me the way he did,” Amanda said, recognizing the defensiveness in her tone. “Anyway, how was I supposed to know the apartment was worth two million? I haven’t even seen it yet.”

“I don’t know what to say.”

“Oh . . . and I kissed him. Or technically, he kissed me, I guess.”

Kate remained quiet for so long, Amanda pulled the phone away and peered at the display to see if she still had a signal. She put the phone back to her ear and said, “Tell me what you’re thinking.”

“I was just thinking that I’m really enjoying this view,” Jake drawled.

Amanda nearly jumped out of her skin.

She spun around, knocking her Diet Coke over in the process, to find Jake at the other end of the kitchen island watching her, the corners of his lips twitching. She snatched up a kitchen towel and threw it on top of the growing puddle of Diet Coke. She grabbed another and held it in front of her scantily clad body. “Kate, I have to go. I’ll call you later.”

“But I want to hear—”

Amanda disconnected the call and set the phone on the counter. She eyed the front door. Noting the locked deadbolt, she looked back at Jake and said, “How’d you get in?”

“I never left
.
” He leaned against the wall and pointed his thumb toward the living room. “I slept on your couch last night. By the way, it’s as uncomfortable as it looks, in case you wondered. My back is killing me.”

“How long have you been standing there?”

“Long enough,” he said with a grin. “And in case you don’t remember, you kissed me back.”

Her cheeks grew warm and her massive headache faded in importance as her first order of business shifted to putting on some clothes. She inched around the kitchen island in the direction of her bedroom. “Can you at least pretend to be a gentleman and close your eyes so I can get to the bedroom?”

He closed his eyes and chuckled. “As long as you’re headed that way, you might want to comb your hair and wash your face.”

She threw the towels on the counter and sprinted down the hall. Ten minutes ago, she wouldn’t have guessed herself capable of moving that fast. Her former trainer would’ve loved to see that much hustle. Then again, the trainer was history along with most other luxuries. If she really went through with this fake wedding, she’d have to give him a call again.

Amanda closed the bedroom door and headed to the closet where she pulled on faded black sweatpants and added a powder blue Northwestern University tank top over the black one she already wore. Then she strolled into the bathroom and flipped on the light. She stopped short as she caught her reflection in the mirror. Morning-After Barbie stared back.

Amanda groaned and ran her fingers through her tangled hair, which was smashed flat on one side. Mascara had smudged under her eyes and onto her cheeks. And only one false eyelash remained in place, though it was partially detached. No telling what had happened to the other one. For all she knew, she’d guzzled it down along with the Diet Coke and aspirin.

She turned on the faucet and scrubbed her face. Then she brushed her teeth and scraped her hair back into a ponytail. Several minutes later, a much more presentable Amanda trod back into the kitchen. She inhaled the heavenly scent of coffee and felt the first stirrings of life inside. “Mmm, you read my mind.”

Jake turned and his eyes skimmed over her as he said, “I think I prefer the last outfit, in case you wondered.” He pushed a steaming coffee mug toward her.

“Hilarious.” She eyed him sternly as she reached for the cream and sugar and doctored her drink in record time. “You know, I don’t recall inviting you to stay last night.”

He shrugged. “Maybe I wanted to be sure you were okay.” He opened the refrigerator and pulled out a carton of eggs. “I checked in on you a few times last night.”

She sipped her coffee and tried to mask her surprise. “What’re you doing?”

He glanced over his shoulder. “You need to eat. You’ll feel better.” Jake cracked two eggs into a glass bowl.

Her mouth dropped open. In the entire year they’d dated, he’d only cooked for her
once—
and he’d been in love then or so he’d said. Why bother now? He didn’t need to butter her up. She’d already agreed to go through with the marriage. She kept those thoughts to herself and instead, asked, “Seriously, why did you stay?” And why are you being so nice?

He turned toward her as he whisked the eggs. “We haven’t finished negotiating.”

She groaned and her voice sounded dangerously close to a whine as she said, “Can’t we finish negotiating later? I’m not in the mood. I need a nap.”

“You just woke up,” Jake pointed out as he dumped the egg mixture into the pan. The butter and eggs sizzled as he wiped his hands on a towel and then started to scrape the pan. “We need to finish what we started last night. Do you want toast?”

Not everything they started. She planned to stay away from him. No more kissing or anything else. The tantalizing mix of aromas finally got to her and Amanda surrendered. “I’d love some toast.” Maybe it would absorb some of the alcohol.

Five minutes later, Jake set a plate of steaming eggs and toast in front of her. “
Eat
.”

Her stomach growled. She broke off a piece of toast and buttered it while Jake pulled up a barstool.

“I’ve considered your demands and now I have a few of my own.”

She stopped buttering and regarded him with narrowed eyes. “Okay.” She popped a generous bite of toast into her mouth and chewed.

“After last night, I decided our new terms need to include a few things.”

Every muscle in her body tensed and she dropped the toast and picked up the napkin to dab at her mouth. “Such as . . .”

“I need your help with marketing,” he said. “My meeting with the investment group is on Monday. I’m meeting with Sam’s brother’s group. You know Rand, right? Anyway, I only have four days to get my pitch in shape and it needs serious help.”

“That’s easy enough.” She hoped everything else he asked would be as easy. Cautiously optimistic, she speared some eggs and said, “Is that it?” She popped the eggs into her mouth.

“No. We need to make this deal official as soon as possible.”

She coughed and a few bits of egg flew out. She picked up her napkin and wiped her mouth. Then she took a sip of coffee. After she swallowed, she said, “By official, you mean
get married
as soon as possible?”

He nodded.

Her stomach churned and she slowly pushed her plate away. “What’s the rush?”

“I need access to the money and since we’ve agreed to do it, we need to just get on with it. Besides, the sooner we get started, the sooner it’ll be over. We should get busy planning the wedding, too.”

Her eyes bugged out. “Wedding!” She shook her head so vigorously, her hair tossed side to side. “No.” Her stomach lurched and she told herself to calm down or she really would throw up. “I mean, can’t we just do it at the courthouse? You know . . . no fuss?”

Jake shook his head. “Only if you plan to cause a major scandal. Lowell’s don’t get married at Cook County Courthouse. It might be a fake marriage, but it has to come with a real ceremony. We can keep it small, but Max will expect something nice. Remember, you’re the blushing bride and of course he’ll assume you’ll want a fabulous wedding. Anything less would raise his suspicions.”

Think fast.

She pursed her lips and tried to sound convincing as she said, “You know, I’ve always wanted a destination wedding. What do you think about Cabo?”

Jake shot her a pointed look. “Nice try. No courthouse, no running away to Mexico. We’ll get married in Chicago.”

She glared at him. “You know, I never realized how bossy you are.”

“I’ve never had this much at stake before. Neither have you. So let’s just play it safe and do what we have to do.”

Her shoulders slumped in defeat as she said, “How soon?”

“I don’t want to wait longer than a month or two at most. We’ll pick a date in the next week or so and then we can start planning the details.”

“I take it by
we
you mean
me
.”

He nodded. “I’m definitely not doing it. I’ll be busy getting the business funded.”

Her mouth twisted. No wonder he’d pushed her to take the leave of absence. And she’d fallen for it. In truth, it had been her decision and one she’d made because she was just so damn tired and stressed out. But still, she hadn’t counted on planning a wedding.

A light bulb flashed. “Wait a minute. You said the pitch happens in four days, right?”

“Monday morning.”

“Maybe Rand will fund the whole thing. Then we can just forget this crazy marriage idea.” Hope stirred inside and she sat up a little straighter as the idea took hold. “Maybe you won’t need your trust at all.” Then she could negotiate some easy payment terms and repay the hundred grand she owed him over the course of the next decade or two . . . or four.

“No. I wish, believe me. But these sorts of things generally take several months and numerous meetings. Plus, my pitch looks stronger to other investors if I partially fund the business myself.”

“Come on . . . its Rand. Do you really think he’s going to turn you down or drag out the decision-making process? I’ll bet he forks over everything you’re looking for on Monday.” She sat back and folded her arms, feeling supremely pleased with herself.

“Rand is a venture capitalist. He’s in the business of making money and no matter how much he likes me, he won’t give me funding unless he’s sure it’ll generate a good return. My relationship with Sam got me the meeting, but my business idea will have to do the rest. And I don’t expect him to do me any favors or short change the process due to our relationship.”

She expelled a long sigh of resignation. “Fine. What else.”

He turned to face her. “You need to move in with me; tomorrow.”

Her eyes grew round. “Move in . . . tomorrow? No! I mean, can’t it wait until after the wedding?”

“We probably could if you understood that being engaged means you can’t date.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. I told you; George is a
friend
.”

“Friend or not, what do you think people will think if other guys bring you home at night? And you don’t wear your engagement ring.”