Listed: Volume I (2 page)

“But
it doesn’t spread from person-to-person contact, so both she and I would have
had to be directly exposed. I don’t see how that could be possible.”

It
wasn’t an idea she’d considered before, so her voice was slightly distracted as
she thought over the possibility.

After
a minute, she concluded it was ridiculous to entertain such unlikely notions,
and Paul was just indulging paranoid fantasies. All the doctors agreed that
this virus was going to kill her, so she wasn’t going to clutch at vapors of
hope.

She
was suddenly swallowed up in a surreal haze—as if the elegant room, the broad
expanse of harbor-view out the window, and Paul’s tense, attractive face had
transformed into an alien landscape, where nothing was normal, nothing was
safe.

She
couldn’t believe she only had three months to live. She wasn’t even eighteen
yet.

But
there was still something she could do, accomplish, complete before her life
was over.

With
that in mind, she said, “Anyway, back to the point. When I said I want to live,
I didn’t mean I want to find a miracle cure. I’m not stupid enough to think
there’s one out there. I mean, for my last three months, I want to
live
.
Most of my life, I’ve been trying to just scrape by, with no time between work
and school to even have any fun. I kept thinking, when I’m finally…” She
exhaled, vaguely embarrassed by the confession. She wasn’t in the habit of
making herself vulnerable, particularly with Paul Marino. “I kept thinking,
when I finally get settled, I could relax and do some of the things I want. I
just hadn’t gotten there yet. I don’t want it to be too late. I don’t want to
die before I do them.”

From
the outside, her life probably looked pretty bleak—with her mother on the
street somewhere, in a downward spiral of drug addiction, and her dad pouring
himself into his doomed corner store until he finally worked himself into a
heart-attack two years ago. But she’d always had a place to live, and she
hadn’t been unhappy. She had plenty of friends, she was saving up for college,
and she didn’t mind being mostly on her own.

Until
she’d accidently overheard a private conversation of Vincent Marino’s, she’d
had a perfectly good life.

“I
see,” Paul said, his expression softening as if he understood what she was
trying to say. “That makes sense. How can I help you?” He had that deep
magnetism in his gaze—that made whomever he spoke to feel like he was
completely invested in the conversation, like there was a weight to his regard
beyond normal social interaction.

She
wasn’t surprised so many women were crazy about him. Just by looking at them,
he could make them feel like they were the only important person in the world.

She
was nervous again now. Her heart raced. If she’d had more than three months to
live, she never would have dared to do this.

But
what exactly did she have to lose at this point?

So
she came out and said it. “You can marry me.”

It
was a tribute to his self-possession that Paul reacted with only a blink.

Since
she didn’t want him to say no before she explained, she hurried on, “I don’t
want to spend my last few months in hospitals. And, to tell you the truth, I’m
not sure I want to spend my last days as a witness in a long, drawn-out,
criminal trial.”

Paul
stared at her for a few seconds before he glanced away, out at the view of the
harbor. “I see.” She could tell he was trying to keep his calm composure.

Like
she was a frightened rabbit who might flee at any sudden move.

“I
can understand that too,” he continued, looking back at her. “And I won’t
object if you decide you can’t testify. It was always your choice, and I
appreciate your willingness when circumstances were different.”

“Well,”
she said, with an attempt at her old smile, the one everyone said was her best
feature, “I was hardly doing it for you. It was that or let your dad bully me.
And I’m not saying I
won’t
testify. I know putting your father in prison
is the most important thing to you right now.”

Paul
opened his mouth like he would respond, but no sound came out.

“But
I hope you’ll acknowledge it’s a sacrifice for me to do it and maybe offer me
something in return besides protection.”

“This
is where the, uh, marriage comes in?”

She
nodded and pulled out of the pocket of her hoodie sweatshirt a wrinkled piece
of paper that had been folded three times. “Every year, when I was a kid, I
would write a list. People call them ‘bucket lists’ now, but I’d never heard
that term. It was just a list of things I wanted to do before I died. My ideas
kept changing, so I kept writing new ones. This is the last one I wrote, when I
was twelve.”

That
gentle look was in Paul’s eyes again—the one she really hated. “Of course. I’m
happy to help you do as much on your list as I can, but I can’t believe that
marrying me was ever on your list.”

She
snorted in tired amusement. “No. You were never on my list, but I did have one
thing that was always at the top of every list I ever wrote.” She unfolded the
paper, smoothed it out, and handed it to him.

Paul
took it and silently read what she knew was at the top of the page, written in
large, feminine script. “Get married.”

He
closed his eyes briefly and took a slow breath. Then he pinned her with that
focused gaze. “Emily, I understand that you always wanted to get married, but
I’m just not the best candidate.”

“You’re
the only candidate. If I’m going to get married before I die, it has to be to
you.”

He
reflected for a minute before he spoke. “What about that soccer player friend
of yours? Laura’s brother. Chris? Isn’t he the one you always had a crush on?”

She
sucked in a sharp breath. “How did you know?”

“It
was fairly obvious.”

Her
cheeks flushed painfully, even at his light tone. “Yes. If it could somehow
work out, I’d consider him. But his parents wouldn’t let him, even if he
agreed. He’s got another year left in high school, since he didn’t graduate
early like me. Plus, he’s traditional. He takes marriage really seriously.”

Paul
quirked up one corner of his mouth. “And I don’t?”

Emily
slanted him a half-teasing smile, relieved at the return of his sense of humor.
“Not to cast aspersions based on your reputation, but it’s pretty clear you’ve
been…you’ve been around where women are concerned, so I thought it might not be
such a big deal to you. I mean, I figured you’re worldly enough to not think
one short marriage has to be a life-altering event. It would just be for three
months. Maybe less.”

“But
why?” It seemed like he genuinely wanted to know.

She
felt a little shaky, but she smiled at him, determined not to let him see that
she wasn’t as confident and matter-of-fact as she pretended. “Just to do it. So
I can cross it off my list.”

He
cleared his throat. “So it’s not…it’s not me. You’re not—”

“Nursing
some sort of secret passion for you?” Emily finished for him, embarrassed that
he’d even had that thought and determined to eliminate the possibility from his
mind completely. “Of course not. You just happen to be available.”

He
lifted his eyebrows. “How flattering.”

“I
like you. I mean, of course, I like you, Paul. You’re a decent guy, and you’re
obviously a great catch in terms of what most women are looking for in a
husband. But none of that matters to me at this point.  It’s not about the
money at all. I’ll sign a pre-nup or whatever you want. I don’t have anyone to leave
money to anyway, and I definitely wouldn’t expect anything from you
financially.”

“I
know that. I never thought that’s what this is about.” He released a long
breath. “You’re only seventeen, Emily.”

“What’s
your point?”

“There
are laws about marriageable age. In most states, it’s eighteen.”

“Yeah,
I thought about that. I even looked it up on the internet. You can get married
younger with parental consent, so I figured you could get your lawyer on it,
since I don’t have any parents to give consent. I’ll be eighteen next month,
and I’m officially emancipated anyway, so maybe that would help sway a judge.”

Paul
tightened his lips as he thought. “We could probably get a license with
judicial consent, given your situation.”

Emily
straightened up. “So you’ll do it?”

“I
don’t know. It’s…it feels wrong.”

“It’s
not wrong. You wouldn’t be taking advantage of me. In fact, it would be more
that I’m taking advantage of you. I really do want to cross this off my list. I
know it’s a lot to ask, but it would just be for a couple of months. Unless,
maybe, you’re already seeing someone…”

She
hadn’t heard about his having a girlfriend, but it certainly wasn’t impossible.

“I’m
not seeing anyone right now, but—”

“I
know you don’t want to live like a monk for three months or anything.” She
stared emphatically at her hands, unable to meet Paul’s eyes. “I’d understand
if you need to…to see someone else, as long as….” She trailed off, unable to
complete the sentence.

“Emily,”
he began, “I wouldn—”

“It
doesn’t matter,” she interrupted, wanting to get through with the whole
cringe-worthy topic. “You don’t have to explain anything to me. It’s just about
being married for me. I wouldn’t expect you to act like a husband.”

“Emily,”
Paul said again, reaching out and putting one hand on her shoulder. “You’ve been
through a lot in the last couple months, and I’m not sure you’re thinking
clearly.”

“Don’t
treat me like a child or an idiot. I
am
thinking clearly. I only have a
few months to live, and I want to get through my list.” She picked the list up
from the desk, where Paul had placed it. She stared down at the page, hating
herself when her eyes blurred over with tears.

She
blinked them back and was relieved when her voice didn’t waver. “If you do this
for me, and then maybe help me do a few other things on my list—they’re all
straightforward like going skydiving and seeing the Pyramids—then I’ll still
testify against your father at trial and you can have the satisfaction of
helping a dying girl get her last wish.”

Paul
sat back in his chair, covering his mouth with his hand and then slowly rubbing
his chin. He must have shaved that morning, but his bristles still made a faint
scratching sound. He was looking vaguely in her direction, but she knew he
wasn’t seeing her.

“Paul,
please,” she said, her voice wobbling for the first time. “My aunt was the only
family I had left, and now I’ve lost her too. I don’t really have…anything.
This list is all I have left.”

It
was true. There was a shadow lurking in her mind, threatening to swallow her up
at any moment. She wasn’t going to give into it, though, not while there was
some way to control the last days of her life.

“Okay.”

“Really?”
she asked, brushing a couple of stray tears away. “You’ll do it?”

He
nodded and smiled back at her, reaching over to catch her last tear with his
thumb and flick it away from her cheek. “I still think it’s not the sanest of
plans, and I’ll most likely regret it. But I’ll do it.”

Acting
on impulse, she threw herself forward and wrapped her arms around his neck.
“Thank you,” she said into his shoulder.

Paul
seemed a little stiff, like he wasn’t used to getting hugs, but he squeezed her
lightly with one arm before he pulled away. “You’re welcome.”

“Is
there anything I can do for you?”

“If
you’re still able and willing to testify, that’s all I need.”

“So
we can get married right away? As soon as possible?”

Paul
stood up from his desk. “I’ll start working on it. It’s going to take a little
time for my lawyer to get judicial consent for the license, but I’ll see if we
can rush it.”

For
the last several months, it had felt like Emily’s life—her entire existence—was
falling apart, bit by bit.

There
wasn’t anything left to fall apart.        

In
some ways, it was freeing.

Emily’s
world wasn’t big, frightening, and confusing anymore. It had narrowed down to a
series of tasks she could count on her fingers and toes.

Fourteen
items on a sheet of paper. Three months.

One
list.

***

Emily could tell her
conversation with Paul was about to veer off in an annoying direction.

He’d
been nothing but kind and helpful all day, after her proposal that morning—far
more than she would have expected from a guy she’d always considered spoiled
and entitled.

At
the moment, they were in the backseat of a chauffeured car, which was the
vehicle Paul had been using since he’d started going around with bodyguards,
and they were on their way back from Baltimore.