Marry Me for Money (5 page)

The waitress broke the moment by taking our order, and my silence continued. He was still observing me, and he laughed when I shot him a mean-girl look.

“So, Beth, what’s your deal?” Kent asked as the waitress came back and placed our food in front of us.

The aroma of eggs, bacon and pancakes made my mouth water. “My deal? I have no deal,” I said, pulling my eyebrows together. I picked up my fork and jammed a piece of egg into my mouth.

“No, tell me what you’re about.”

“We’re not friends, so I’m not sharing my life story with you. Plus, I’m pretty sure I don’t even like you,” I snapped.

He laughed, but I ignored him as I chowed down on a big piece of pancake. When the maple syrup touched my lips, I sighed inwardly. The syrupy liquid coated my tongue and slid down my throat, the tastiness satisfying the hunger pangs in my belly.

“Delicious, right?” he asked, raising an eyebrow with a slight smile.

“Maybe,” I said, my mouth still full of food. I scrunched my face, still trying to stay mad, even though the meal was beginning to lighten my mood.

“You know,” he said, “you really shouldn’t talk with your mouth full.”

I opened my mouth wide to show him the eggs mixed with bacon and pancakes. I didn’t care that I was acting juvenile. It wasn’t like I was trying to impress him. He made a face, feigning disgust, and a small laugh escaped his lips.

“So, back to my question, tell me about yourself, Bethany Casse. Tell me the stuff that I can’t find on paper.”

“I don’t have any secrets.” I chomped on a piece of bacon.

“Come on, tell me. The good girls always have secrets.”

When he smiled, I purposely distorted my face even more. My rudeness wasn’t bothering him. If anything, he was more entertained at my annoyance, so I decided to turn the table on him.

“What’s your deal?” I asked, pointing my knife in his direction. “Tell me your deal,” I said, narrowing my eyes at him.

“I thought my deal was pretty obvious. My deal is, I do what I want to, whenever I want to, and with whomever I want to. I, Miss Bethany Casse, have a very good deal.”

“Must be nice,” I blurted.

“Yes, it is,” he said, leaning back against the booth.

“Rich people work, too. Ever heard of Bill Gates? I mean, your dad works hard to sustain his company. Don’t you have ambitions? What do you want to do when you grow up?” I couldn’t help but be curious about the entitled male in front of me.

“I want to do what I’m doing now—absolutely nothing and everything. I’m one of the very few people who can say I have the luxury of doing that. I’m not trying to be conceited, but it’s just the truth.”

He took a sip of water. “I have an allowance from my trust fund, so I will never have to work. And at the age of twenty-five, I will be entitled to the whole trust. Anyone with this option would do the same. Wouldn’t you?”

“No. I wouldn’t. I’d choose normalcy. I’d choose being productive and contributing to society by going to work,” I said, making a face.

Both of his dimples emerged. “Did you just stick your tongue out at me?”

“No,” I lied, pretending that it just hadn’t happened. “So, what makes you happy? Don’t you want more from life?”

I wanted to kill the curious cat, but the more he spoke, the more I wanted to know. His answers had annoyed me, but even more than that, my uncontrollable inquisitiveness irritated me.

“What makes me content is the here and now. I’m content with sitting here with you and eating this pancake because I want to. If I weren’t, I’d get up and leave. I rarely have to do what I don’t want to do. If I get bored, I plan a vacation…or go to Bowlesville,” he said with a smirk.

“I’m sorry, but what about company succession? Is there an uncle or someone else?”

I thought of Jack Plack, a father who had worked so hard to grow and sustain a company that had been passed down from his father. He’d seemed excited that his son was visiting the plant today, and I couldn’t help but sympathize with him and his hope for the future of his company.

“No, it’s only me. My father was the only son, and so am I.”

“What if he forces you into taking over the company? I can’t imagine he would want someone else to run it. It’s been in your family for generations.”

He glanced at the glass of water he was holding as his eyebrows pulled in slightly. “I hate to give him false hope by coming here, but I’ve been honest with him.” His voice was quiet, melancholy.

For a short second, I sensed sadness in his tone, but then it was gone.

“He’s tried to force me into it, and he has tried to cut me off before. That lasted all but two days. My mother wouldn’t have it,” he said. “That is one woman I would do anything for. To her, I can do no wrong.”

I pictured his plastic stay-at-home mother, who had given her little boy every little thing he wanted whenever he wanted. Just as my upbringing had shaped me, his upbringing had most likely shaped him into his spoiled self today.

The check came and Kent reached for it before I could pick it up.

“Here, let me get that. This is a business expense,” I said, snatching the check from his hands.

I drew my wallet from my purse and grabbed the only credit card I had—the One Financial corporate card. For me, cash was king. I always paid cash, and I despised credit cards, but this time, it was a justified expense.

White freightliner trucks covered with
Plack Industries
surrounded the plant as we pulled in. The massive factory split into two portions. Grayish-white siding spanned the exterior of the manufacturing facility toward the rear of the building while red brick covered the office area in the front.

As we were seated in the reception area, an older man wearing a white coat with the Plack Industries logo approached to greet us. “Hey, Kent,” he said, as his eyes lit up. “It’s so great to see you. I haven’t seen you since you were twelve.”

The older male proceeded to lean in for a hug, but Kent stepped back and confidently shook his hand.

I introduced myself immediately, “Hi, I’m Bethany Casse from One Financial.”

The corner of his eyes wrinkled as he shook my hand firmly. “Nice to meet you. I’m Jared, head of operations. Let’s take a tour of our facility. Shall we?”

“That would be great,” I replied, ready to ask questions about the expansion.

He led us through the building to where the offices ended and the manufacturing plant began. Kent trailed behind me.

The factory tour lasted no more than forty-five minutes. During the tour, my eyes had flickered behind me toward Kent. I’d caught interest in his eyes as Jared talked of the day-to-day operations, but as soon as Kent had noticed me staring, I swore, he’d feigned boredom.

Before I knew it, we were already walking out of the factory.

As we left the building, my phone rang while we proceeded toward the car. My heart picked up speed as I saw Pete Carlson’s name come up before I answered the call.

“Beth, you’re late again,” he said.

I forgot. Crap.

I looked toward Kent. “Hey, just one minute. I need to take this.”

When Kent stepped into the car, I placed the phone back on my ear and leaned against the car door. “Hey, Pete. How are you?” I pulled at the strands of dark brown hair over my shoulder with my free hand to try to calm myself.

“Beth, I can’t make any more excuses for you. I have to run a business here.”

“I know. I’m so sorry. I had to move, and then I started a new job. It totally slipped my mind. Can I find out from Kendy when she’s off next, and I’ll have her drop off the money?” I said, talking faster than normal.

“No, Beth, I can’t cut you any more slack. Either come in and pay the interest today, or I’m selling your stuff. Like I said, I gotta run a business here. I have bills to pay, too.”

I fisted the top of my hair to try to steady myself. “I’ll have the money for you. Promise me, you won’t sell her stuff.” I glanced toward Kent sitting in the car and gave him a nervous smile.

“Today, Beth. You have till the end of the day.”

My heart started to pound in my ears, and the beginning of a full-on panic attack was about to overtake my body. I felt the hot sweats creeping up my neck. There was no other option. I had to make it to Pete’s today. I needed to take action.

Think, think, think.

Okay, Beth, be nice.

I stepped into the car and turned toward Kent. “I’m starving. Do you want to try this great burrito place? They’re famous for their guacamole.”

A small smile crossed his face. “I saw what you ate for brunch. You’re hungry again?”

I guessed he was most likely surprised at how much food this girl could put down.

“Yeah, really hungry,” I said, grabbing my stomach. “Hear that? It’s growling.” I gave him the puppy-dog face I usually saved for when I wanted something from Kendy. In desperation, I turned up the cuteness a tad bit more as I gave him a forced sad smile.

He laughed once. “Sure. Where to?” he asked, placing both hands on the steering wheel.

Downtown areas were normally full of beautiful fountains, lush gardens, delicious restaurants, and cute one-of-a-kind boutiques. That was not downtown Bowlesville. As we drove, we passed by vacant and no-name storefronts, mostly discount stores or resale clothes shops.

“Appealing area we have here.” Kent’s face turned serious.

He glanced around to the people at the bus stop. They were gawking back at us, most likely because of the car they’d only seen in the movies or in magazines.

“It’s just a few more blocks that way.” I pointed as Kent continued to drive.

I placed both hands in my lap to stop the bouncing of my knees, and I tried to take deep breaths to calm the rushed beating in my chest.

“I’m not sure this is such a good idea. Why don’t we pick up something on the way? I need to get gas anyway.”

“No, you’ll love this joint. You’ll probably never come back to Bowlesville. The food at this place is awesome. One bite of their Burrito Bomb, and I swear, you’ll forget your name. It’s just that good.” I gave him my sweetest smile. “Unless you’re scared,” I sassed. I crossed my fingers on my lap, hoping he’d take me to my destination.

He shook his head. “I was in college wrestling, and I am a black belt. I don’t do scared, but I’d rather not put myself in situations I can avoid,” he said, scanning the vicinity around us.

We arrived at Tasty Tacos. I stepped out of the car and followed Kent into the restaurant. I doubted this was a good idea, but I had no other choice. I had to get to Pete’s before he sold everything that mattered.

The waitress led us to a table in the corner. I scooted into the red booth, feeling the coldness of the leather hit the back of my legs. When she dropped the menu in front of us, I ordered right away. “Can I have one steak taco and a Coke? Thanks.” I closed my menu and handed it to the waitress.

“I thought you were hungry,” Kent said, his face perplexed.

“I meant a steak taco meal. Can I have the meal please?” I said, turning back to the waitress.

Food was the last thing on my mind, but I had to make this believable. My heart beat loudly in my chest as I stared at my destination through the restaurant’s floor to ceiling windows behind Kent.

“So, Bowlesville. You grew up here,” Kent stated, breaking through my thoughts and forcing me to make eye contact.

I crossed my arms in front of me and leaned into the table. “Yeah. So?” I wasn’t in the mood for a snarky comment about my hometown, especially when I had a mission to accomplish.

His eyes widened in amusement. “Easy there, I was just asking. You must be one of those people who gets cranky when she doesn’t eat.”

I softened my face. “Yeah, I grew up here. Actually, my house is ten minutes away.”

“It’s amazing that you turned out okay,” he said, observing our surroundings.

My annoyed face was back. “Just so you know, not all of us were brought up with a silver spoon in our mouths. Bowlesville is fine. It’s not so much where I came from. It’s the drive that gets people to where they’re at,” I said, tapping my foot against the floor. My eyes flickered back to my destination behind Kent.