HisMarriageBargain (2 page)

The stare Isaac leveled at Sammi behind Autumn’s back was
full of concern and not a little disapproval. Isaac was Jewish, like Sammi, but
their backgrounds differed greatly. Where Sammi’s family were expatriates from
Iran, styling themselves Persians, Isaac was a descendant of WWII survivors
from France. Their cultures shared the same bedrock, but the soil into which
they’d been planted had grown vastly different people.

Isaac partitioned out three piles of papers and two pens,
which he offered to each of them. “What we have here are three copies of the
prenuptial agreement. I believe Sammi discussed these with you. Look for the
yellow sticky flags where Autumn needs to sign, and the green for where I need
Sammi’s signature. Sammi, I also have a new will to reflect the division of
assets, as you requested.”

“Okay, can you go slowly, please? This is, well, it’s a
lot.” Autumn tapped the pen against her thigh.

“Of course.” Isaac gestured at the first pile, flipping
through the document as he went. “This is the prenuptial agreement. It says
that whatever belongs to Sammi before the wedding is his after the wedding, and
whatever belongs to you remains yours. It’s a precautionary document a lot of
young professionals are getting these days.”

“That’s kind of sad.” Autumn’s face scrunched up. “But I
guess this isn’t a real wedding. Makes sense.”

It isn’t a real wedding.

She spoke the truth but it still stung.

Their marriage was going to be a play, a hoax, a fantasy
built around his last wish. He’d make the most of it and go out a happy man,
because for him, it was real. Autumn might not be the love of his life but he’d
grown to care for her. Their unlikely relationship was one of the bright things
that had come about in the previous year, and he hoped they could build on
that. The last thing he’d want to do though was cause her pain in this
agreement, which was why he’d taken care of his hospice arrangements
beforehand.

Sammi shook his head and glanced up to find Isaac studying
him over Autumn peering at the documents. She scrawled her looping signature
where the flags told her, no further questions asked. He mustered a smile for
his closest friend, but knew it fell flat.

“Very good, thank you.” Isaac shuffled the papers into order
and handed them to Sammi. He took the next document, which was much thicker.
“This is your joint will, which will be in full effect once you are married.
Please sign it as Autumn Schaeffer. This specifies what assets, money and
possessions will be divided up and how, upon either of your termination.
Basically, everything you own goes to your respective families, save for the
one life insurance policy that Sammi here has willed to you as your agreement
for this charade.”

“Isaac,” Sammi snapped.

Isaac pursed his lips. “Sorry, that was rude. I don’t mean
any disrespect.”

“Someone’s wearing their lawyer pants today,” Autumn
quipped.

“These do make me look rather lawyerly, don’t they?” Isaac
dusted imaginary lint from the crease of his pants.

“About the money,” Autumn began.

“Do you want more?” Isaac asked with a raised brow.

“What? No.” She scowled at Isaac. “I was actually saying
that I don’t want it at all.”

“Oh, well, in that case there’s a stipulation here,” he
shuffled until he produced the page, “that creates a trust fund to be invested
on your behalf and save the money until such time as you need it or your
benefactors come into possession of your belongings.”

“This is really morbid.” Autumn’s nose scrunched up in an
adorable way.

Sammi grasped her hand and gave her his most sincere look.
“I know, but thinking of my probable end has gifted me with a knack for
foresight. I want you to have the money and be taken care of. Please. For me.”

She frowned, and he thought she might argue the point.
“Okay, I guess.”

Isaac directed her to sign on several more lines before
moving to the final document. It was an unorthodox type of contract, which
might not hold up in court should Autumn want to press it after his death, but
he didn’t think she would. First, the money wouldn’t be on her side, and
second, it wouldn’t be like her.

A good friend would try to talk Sammi out of the marriage
idea. Try to convince him to find alternative medicines for curing his
condition. Isaac had done all those things and more, just short of knocking
Sammi unconscious and forcing the choices upon him. Sammi wouldn’t rule that
out, but for now Isaac was abiding by his wishes.

“I think I signed everything,” Autumn said at last.

“Great, now we just need Sammi’s signatures,” Isaac replied.

“Right.” He shuffled through the pages, not bothering to
read them yet again. He’d been over them a hundred times with Isaac in the last
week.

“When’s the wedding?” Isaac leaned against the piano.

Autumn glanced at Sammi. “Uh…”

He gritted his teeth. This was not the way he’d wanted to
pitch the idea to Autumn, but he crossed his fingers she’d go with it.

“In a few days. I was thinking of flying down to St.
Maarten.” Sandy beaches, a tropical paradise, snorkeling, cliff jumping. Things
he’d never done before. If his strength held out, if he didn’t tire
unexpectedly, maybe he’d get to scratch them off his list.

A list.

He needed one of those.

Something with things he could scratch off as he did them.
It would give him a sense of accomplishment. As if to say,
See what I did
with the last hours given me? I lived
.

“Really? What about your mother?” Isaac asked.

He pointed the pen at Isaac. “I’ll tell her when I get
back.” To Autumn he asked, “What about it? Want to get married at a tropical
paradise?”

“I’ve never been to an island, unless Padre counts,” Autumn
replied with a beaming smile. That was the fearless, “jump first, ask questions
later” woman he wanted by his side.

“You’re serious about that?” Isaac’s eyes nearly bugged out
of his head.

“I am,” Sammi replied.

Isaac shook his head. “That’s suicide, man.”

Sammi’s mother would be hurt and not a little upset by the
whole circus, but it would give her something else to talk about besides his father’s
death. “Good thing I’m already dying.”

Realism—These tattoos aim to copy realistic portraits or
images onto the skin.

Autumn sucked in a calming breath and pressed the Call
button on her phone. Ever since yesterday morning when she’d agreed to marry
Sammi she’d been trying to figure out how to do this. She hated lying to her
friends, but there wasn’t another way to get out of work today. The truth sure
as hell wasn’t going to cut it.

“So Inked. This is Kellie,” a voice said on the other end of
the line.

“Hey, Kellie.”

“Autumn, hey. What are you doing awake before noon?” In the
background Kellie’s chair squeaked. Autumn could imagine her in the office,
leaning back from her desk, probably in the middle of balancing the books or
payroll or something that involved math.

“I had to get up early to call into the free clinic. Got an
appointment.”

Lie. Lie. Lie.

“The clinic? I thought you just went a few weeks ago.” Of
course Kellie would remember details like that. It was what made her such a
great businesswoman, and a really tough boss.

“I did, but, uh, I hooked up with this guy a week ago and I
told him to use a condom, but I haven’t been feeling that great. So I got an
appointment to get the plumbing checked out.” Autumn’s stomach knotted and the
breakfast croissant she’d shoved down this morning threatened to come back up.

This was why if she wasn’t going to go into work, she didn’t
call.

She was never, ever calling in again.

“Damn. Yeah, glad they got you in today. What time?”

Autumn didn’t know if she loved Kellie for being more
concerned about her health than her sexual habits, or what it said about Autumn
that Kellie didn’t even blink an eye about her multiple partners. There hadn’t
been a guy in her bed for weeks. She just hadn’t been feeling it lately.

“Oh, I got a 1:30, but you know how it goes there. You could
get in an hour later or something.” Autumn tapped the steering wheel nervously.
She was getting away with the charade, which meant there was going to be a
kicker.

“Okay, well, do you think you can close tomorrow night and
trade with Mary?”

There were always trade-offs.

“Sure,” she replied, nodding. Whatever it took to get off
the phone at this point.

“Great. You don’t have anything on the books ’til three, so
hopefully we don’t have to move anything around. See you later.”

“Thanks, Kellie. See you.”

Autumn ended the call and slumped in the driver’s seat of
her beat-to-shit Buick. If she never had to lie to her friend again, it would
be too soon. Lying was not one of her fortes, no matter what anyone said.

She glanced at the clock. Ten minutes to kill.

Whatever. Autumn wasn’t going to sit around when she could
do a little window shopping. She gathered the large bag she’d stuffed with the
essentials for the day and headed for the store. The parking lot was half-full
already, a testament to the popularity of the store. An older man leaving with
his wife held the door open for her.

“There’s a lovely lady.” The gentleman winked but not in a
sleazy, creepy way. She fully expected him to produce a piece of candy and
tweak her nose but he didn’t.

“Thank you.” Autumn smiled and entered a land of fluffy
white and glitz.

“Welcome to David’s Bridal.” A woman wearing a skirt suit
set in a shade of salmon pink stood next to a table draped in white where a
clipboard and magazines were displayed.

“Hi.” Autumn glanced around, her eyes growing large at the
racks and racks of dresses. This might be a little more than she bargained for.

“Are you looking for someone?” the woman asked.

“No, I’ve just never been in a wedding dress store before.
It’s a little overwhelming and—white.”

The idea of wearing one color went against everything Autumn
loved. She hated single-color tattoos. Life was full of color and it showed
through in everything she did, from her tattoos to her hair to her clothes,
down to her favorite foods.

“White is an ‘in’ color for weddings.” The woman laughed as
if she’d made a joke. One Autumn didn’t understand, but then again, weddings
were so outside her realm of knowledge. It wasn’t as if her circle of friends
did a lot of traditional marrying. “Now what can I help you with?”

“I have an 11:30 appointment.”

The woman’s brows rose slightly and she reached for the
clipboard. “Name?”

“Autumn.” She pasted on a smile. She was used to the way
people looked at her, but so what? They didn’t live in her skin. She did. And
she liked herself.

“Yes, you’re with Rose. Let me get her for you. Her last
appointment ended early. One moment please.” The attendant flashed a bright
smile, turned on her heel and marched off to find Rose.

Left to her own devices, Autumn wandered to the nearest row
of wedding dresses hung in their individual plastic bags and pulled one out at
random. The front was encrusted with fake diamonds, there were see-through lace
panels and a skirt that looked as if it would expand to eat her.

Hell to the never, ever no.

“Autumn?” a matronly voice came from behind her.

Autumn turned to face an older woman in a conservative black
skirt suit with sensible shoes. Her close-cropped, curling hair was shot
through with liberal streaks of gray. Autumn’s heart fell. Great. Another
person so outside her age range she’d probably give her the evil eye for all
the tattoos. Just great. Usually Autumn didn’t make snap judgments about
people, but after a night spent mulling over how Sammi’s best guy friend had
looked at her, she had to wonder what she was getting herself into.

There wasn’t anything Autumn could do about the colors on
her skin, so she pasted on her brightest smile and offered the woman her hand.
How bad could it be?

“That’s me. Are you Rose?”

“I am.” Rose glanced around. “Do you have anyone else with
you?”

“Just me.” Autumn smiled a little wider out of
determination. Under perfect circumstances, the So Inked girls would be here
with her. Even in an ideal world, she didn’t know if her only living relative
would show up. Maybe things would change after her mother got out of this round
of rehab, but Autumn wasn’t going to hold her breath that her mother would ever
go to something like wedding-dress shopping.

“All right. Come this way please and we can get started.”

“Okay.”

Despite her appearance, Rose trucked through the store,
calling out compliments to girls in gowns on pedestals and saying hello to
other sales associates. The shop felt like a workshop for little girls’
fantasies with all the tulle and glitter floating around. Just watching some of
the women trying on fluffy dresses put a smile on Autumn’s face. Monochrome
might not be Autumn’s thing, but she wouldn’t deny that the dresses were
beautiful. On other women.

They went straight to a cozy corner with a small antique
couch complete with brocade fabric and wooden claw feet.

“Have a seat and tell me about your wedding.” Rose gestured
to the couch and waited for Autumn to sit first. “You have lovely tattoos, by
the way.”

“Oh. Thank you.” Autumn blinked at the woman.

Hello, surprise.

“I don’t have a tattoo myself,” Rose said, leaning toward
her as if they were conspirators, “but every year my husband and I take the
grandkids to the Renaissance fair down by Waxahachie and I get that henna stuff
on my arms. It’s beautiful, but back in my day a lady just didn’t get a tattoo.
Only outlaws and bikers had those.”

“The one-percent tattoos?” Autumn asked, perking up.

“Yes!” Rose’s smile widened. “There was a news spread when I
was younger about the American Motorcycle Association and they made a big deal
about how 99 percent of motorcyclists were honest, hard-working people. But the
motorcycle gangs—”

“The Bandido gang was one of them,” Autumn blurted.

Rose nodded enthusiastically. “That’s right. They all went
out and got 1% tattooed on them.”

“And their motto became, ’We are the people our parents
warned us about.’ Sorry, go ahead. It’s just, I read something about it a few
days ago.” Autumn clasped her hands in her lap. It was always exciting to peel
back a layer of history from a person who lived it.

“Yes. It was their motto. My mother was beside herself. We
couldn’t pass a biker without her telling me to look away, and even my husband
would take precautions to drive around the areas of town where the bikers hung
out. You couldn’t get a tattoo without being seen as an outlaw in my day. Now
people do it just because they’re beautiful. They’re so interesting.” Rose
peered at Autumn’s arms and reached for her, as if to touch her art. “And you
have some beautiful ones. Lots of color.”

Autumn held out her arm, more than used to random people
feeling her up in the name of looking at her art. “Thanks. I’m one of those “I
get it because it’s pretty” people. I like color and happy things.”

A partial truth. The arm wrapped in sweets was, at a glance,
random and a bit silly. No one but her needed to know the story behind it.

Rose flashed a smile and traced a cupcake with rainbow
sprinkles on her forearm. “I bet you’d like a wedding dress with a lot of
sparkle.” And just like that, Rose brought them back to the point of Autumn’s
visit. She had to smile at the woman’s skill.

“I like sparkle and I like color, so if we can get both in a
dress that would be great, but most importantly, and I said this on the phone,
I need my dress by the end of today.” Autumn winced, knowing she was asking for
a miracle.

Rose nodded. “They warned me about this. Are you eloping or
is this a sudden thing?”

“I guess we’re eloping.” The sound of the word rolling off
her tongue for the first time sent a shiver of excitement down her spine. It
was crazy and unexpected even for her.

“Your choices are going to be limited to what’s on our sale
rack. The alterations department has cleared some time this afternoon to work
on a dress, should you find one that works, but they won’t be able to work
miracles, just do a hem or quick fix job.”

“I totally understand.” If she just had something, it would
be better than nothing.

“Now, where are you getting married? Tell me all about it. I
love an elopement.” Rose tossed her head back as she spoke. The joy she
received from her job was apparent. Autumn could relate to that. She was always
more excited about a tattoo when a client was happy.

“Hopefully it works out so that we get married on the beach
at St. Maarten.” Autumn couldn’t keep from grinning.

“Oh, wow, that’s exciting.”

“I know. I’m excited.” She nearly bounced on the cushions,
but kept herself reined in.

“Do you have a style preference?”

“Not really. I didn’t know I was getting married until
yesterday, so I’m pretty open-minded. I don’t think I want anything too big or
bulky because we are going to be on a beach.” Truth be told, Autumn hadn’t
given marriage much thought. Few of her friends had tied the knot and, though
she loved being in love, none of the men she’d fallen for had ever made her
think of forever.

Rose stood and pulled a tape measure from a pocket. She
snapped it like a whip, and in that moment Autumn could see this woman making
an army of brides do her bidding. Rose pulled a pair of glasses out of another
pocket and slipped them on. “Let’s measure you up and get shopping. Stand up on
this pedestal for me.”

Autumn did as she was asked, stepping on the pedestal while
Rose bustled around her, wrapping the tape measure here and there, jotting
numbers down and muttering to herself.

Finally Rose stood back, her lips compressed into a tight
line as she gave Autumn a once-over. “Okay, I’m a little concerned about the
difference between your bust and waist measurements.”

Autumn tugged her bra strap. Damn it. She hadn’t even
thought about that being an issue. “They’re fake. Is that going to be a
problem?”

Rose blinked at her. “No, enhanced breasts aren’t an issue,
but because we’re going for something off-the-rack it means we want to find
something to fit both your slim waist and fuller bust. How do you feel about
halter tops?” Rose peered at her over the top of her bejeweled reading glasses.

“Great. Wear them all the time.” A tiny bud of hope
blossomed.

“I’m going to go pull some things I think might work. If you
want to have a seat, I’ll be back in a few minutes.” Rose strode off as though
she were a miniature general getting her troops in line.

Autumn sat down on the couch and relaxed back into the
cushions, feeling a little more optimistic. Rose wasn’t what she appeared. She
was spunky and fun. Maybe this wouldn’t be a boring shopping trip after all. It
was just sad she couldn’t share the experience with anyone. Her friends were
oblivious at work. Mom was at the rehab center still, unless she’d snuck out,
which Autumn wouldn’t put past her. The only person she could have brought was
Sammi, but she didn’t want him to see the dress before the wedding.

She bit her lip and dug her phone out. What the heck? She
dialed her latest contact and lifted the phone to her ear.

The line rang once before a masculine voice answered.
“Autumn?”

“Hi, Isaac.”

“How’s our bride-to-be doing? Not getting cold feet, are
you?”

She couldn’t get a good read on Isaac. Part of her wondered
if he wanted her to rescind her agreement to the marriage. Hell, in his place
she’d be checking Sammi into a mental home, not delivering his contracts.

“Nope, no cold feet. I’m actually wedding-dress shopping.”
She crossed her legs and bounced her foot, nerves playing havoc on her stomach.

“Really?” There was the surprise she expected.

Autumn twisted her purse strap in her hand. “Yeah. This is
going to sound really weird, and I get that. But would you have time to come by
the store and give me a second opinion? I can’t really ask Sammi and you’re the
only other person who knows, so…”