The Artist (The Game Changers #2) (15 page)

Chapter Twenty

“So tell me, who is he?” Ward asked as we sat down at a small café near my father’s office building. He had ordered a huge turkey sandwich, and I was back to salads filled with veggies, minus any sign of dressing.

“Who whom is?” I knew what he was asking, but I wasn’t sure I wanted to talk about it. Knowing he knew what my parents were up to was embarrassing enough. I didn’t need to tell him all the sordid details, as much as I wished I could.

“Oh, come on. Your parents set you up with someone new.”

I grimaced. “Let’s talk about you first. My mother said you were in a relationship. Is it ten-year girl?”

“It is,” he confirmed with a secret smile.

“I take it things are going well.”

“Breaking up was the best thing that ever happened to us. I’m making more of an effort for her, and she couldn’t be happier.”

“Is she making more of an effort for you?”

His smile told me everything I needed to know. “She is. Not that she needed to, but she said she had been waiting on me to show her she mattered.”

“Does she? Matter, I mean?”

“She does. I’m going to ask her to marry me.”

I smiled genuinely at him. “That’s wonderful, Ward. I’m really happy for you.”

“Wish I could say the same for you, Katherine. Now talk.”

“Put it this way, I wish I had taken my chances with you when you were available.”

He smiled again at my compliment. “While I appreciate the thought, you know it would’ve never worked. Just like it’s never going to happen with new guy. You aren’t going to marry some schmuck your parents pick. You’re a romantic, and no matter what you think now, your brain will eventually catch up with your heart.”

“Seriously? Where did you come from?” I slumped back in the unforgiving wooden booth and frowned. “His name is Alexander. My father is bringing him on to court a new breed of high-end clients to invest with our company. They believe family sells, so Alexander needs a wife as much as my father needs a son-in-law.”

“Sounds about right. Tell me one thing, though. Why New York?”

“My father chose.”

“Yeah, but he wasn’t shipping you out here for me. If anything, he planned to transfer me to you. What changed?”

Those tears started their slow burn again, and the honesty bubbled out of me. “Because I met someone.”

“I see,” he said. “What happened?” he asked softly.

“I fell in love with him. His brother is sick, and they needed help. I made a deal with the devil to get him the help he needed, and this is my penance.” I waved around indicating New York, and my new life in the city.

“Your father being the devil?”

“The one and only.”

“What was the deal?” he asked more seriously this time.

“My father anonymously gets him the best doctors and covers the treatments. In return, I do everything he asks of me.”

“For how long?”

“For as long as it takes. I don’t care what I have to do as long as Adam has his brother. He needs him, you know?”

“He didn’t need you?”

I shook my head. “It wasn’t like that.”

“You said you loved him. What do you mean it wasn’t like that?”

“I said I fell in love. I never said he felt the same. We were only together a month,” I said with a frown. At this rate, I’d be going with my mother to her Botox appointments.

“Do you think it’s possible he felt the same and never had a chance to tell you?”

“No. And I can’t afford to think like that.” I shook my head to rid that thought from my mind. “Let’s talk about something else. Have you bought a ring yet?”

We finished our lunch while Ward told me his ideas for proposing. He wasn’t asking my advice, so I didn’t offer any, but I enjoyed listening to him go over his plans with me. Ten-year girl was a lucky one. Love poured out of Ward as he spoke of her. In my next life, I could only hope someone talked about me that way.

Chapter Twenty-One

Over the next couple of months, I watched as the flowers bloomed in Central Park and people awoke from hibernation. Sidewalks were covered with women wearing the latest brightly colored fashions and men offering appreciating gazes at their efforts. The city pulsed around me like a well-choreographed dance, but I was still disconnected from all of it. I kept up my appearances, giving the performance of a lifetime each time I appeared on Alexander’s arm. However, any time I found myself alone, I let my thoughts drift to what could have been.

I wondered what Maverick was doing, if he had moved on, if he had started the mural he was asked to do, if he was doing any other painting. I thought about Jack and how he was handling treatments. I imagined Ana dancing with Hailey at Hank’s, and hoped they still had as much fun as they had before. I even caught myself thinking about Hank the dog and hoping he still made Maverick smile. I let myself feel the pain, because the pain was the only thing that let me know it was real.

Maddox told me he stopped by the bar a couple of times, but Maverick wasn’t around. I had no idea how he was, and it broke me a little each time I reminded myself that I didn’t know anything because of the choices I made.

The day soon came that Alexander put the diamond ring on my finger. It was a beautiful four-carat emerald cut diamond in a classic diamond band. The proposal was less than impressive. We were in the limo on the way to The Plaza for another fundraiser. I was dressed in a beautiful red Alexander McQueen gown that my mother had insisted was good luck. Alex looked dashing in his Tom Ford tux. He could have modeled for the designer by how perfect he looked. Everything looked exactly how it should, but looks could be deceiving.

We were almost to the hotel when he turned to me and said, “I think it’s time you wore this,” and held the black box out to me.

I opened the black box and saw the ring. “It’s beautiful.”

“It should be. Your mother chose it,” he said, reminding me again that this wasn’t a romantic relationship in the slightest.

“Right. Of course,” I said as I continued to stare at the ring.

“Put it on. We’re here,” he commanded as we pulled up to the front of one of New York’s most famous landmarks.

I slid the ring on my finger and left the box sitting on the seat. Cameras were flashing as we exited the car. This had been part of my life in Seattle but not to this extent. Walking on the arm of the congressman’s notorious playboy son was newsworthy on the East Coast. Page six had eaten up our relationship, and the next thing I knew, my face was plastered all over the city. My mother couldn’t have been prouder. She even called the personal shopper to make sure I had the latest trends and hired a stylist to work with me. My father told me it was now part of my job to look my best, so it wasn’t like he expected me in the office. I was to appear with Alexander as much as possible.

We smiled for the cameras, and he managed to pose us perfectly so my new ring was on full display. I smiled and held my breath until it was all over, and we were inside where the media was not allowed.

“Nice job,” Alexander said. “They’ll love the one of you looking up at me.”

“Sure,” I agreed, feeling more depressed by the second.

“I’m going to get us a drink. Champagne?”

“Please.”

“I’ll be right back,” Alexander said and left me with the obligatory kiss to my temple. We had stepped up our public affections as our “relationship” progressed, but in private, we hadn’t so much as kissed. It was all for show.

I was thrilled when I saw Ward approaching with a beautiful brunette on his arm. “Katherine, it’s wonderful to see you, as always. I’d like to introduce you to my fiancée, Bronwyn Taylor. Bronwyn, this is Katherine.”

“It’s nice to finally meet you, Bronwyn.” I smiled genuinely for the first time in days. “I’ve heard so much about you.”

“You as well, Katherine. This old guy never shuts up about you.”

“That’s because he thinks he’s my brother now.”

“Yes, your protective, much older brother,” he said, then paused. I watched a frown form on his face as he grabbed my left hand. “What is this?”

“Alexander proposed,” I explained without even a hint of a smile.

Bronwyn smiled widely, indicating she had no idea of my situation or my short history with her fiancé. “That’s wonderful. Congratulations!”

I tried to smile at her, but Ward’s worried eyes kept my gaze locked with his. “When did this happen?”

“Tonight.”

“Katherine,” he began to scold me but was interrupted by the fiancé du jour.

“Ward,” Alexander greeted as he handed me a desperately needed glass of champagne.

“Alex. I see congratulations are in order.”

Alexander smiled his public smile and wrapped his arm around my waist. “Indeed. She said yes earlier this evening. I’m a lucky man.” And an even better actor.

“That you are,” Ward mumbled without taking his eyes off me. I knew he thought it was never going to happen, but it was what my parents wanted, so I would be marrying Alexander.

“Come on, Kitty. Your parents are in town. We need to share the good news with them,” Alexander said as he held out his arm for me.

I hooked my arm through his and turned to Ward. “It was good to see you. Let’s do lunch this week.”

Ward nodded his assent.

“It was nice to meet you, Bronwyn. Congratulations on the engagement.”

“You as well, Katherine,” she said a little less enthusiastically this time. Obviously, she had picked up on the tension.

“Tell her the truth, Ward. She deserves to know,” I said as Alexander led me away from my friend and toward my parents.

“Alexander!” My mother beamed as we approached her and my father. “It’s wonderful to see you, as always.”

“You as well, Mrs. Peters. Might I say, you are looking lovely this evening.”

“Aren’t you too kind?” she flirted back, then flicked her eyes between us. “Well?”

Alexander held up my left hand to show her the ring. She clapped giddily in response and pulled us both in for a hug. I knew it was part of the show, so I kept my smile plastered on until my cheeks hurt.

My father simply lifted his tumbler of scotch and said, “Congratulations.” He added a private nod in there for me, silently communicating that I had done the right thing. I turned away from him and faced my mother before the disappointment and anger I felt forced me to do something I regretted. I had come this far; no need to ruin it now.

“So, we need to start planning,” my mother cheered. “When do you want to get married? Everything gets booked out so far in advanced. There is no doubt we are going to have to use some connections to get this wedding planned in a timely manner. I’ll speak to your mother this week about it, Alexander. Have you told them yet?”

For a moment, I wondered if Alex’s parents even knew our relationship was a sham. I only saw them at functions such as the one tonight, so they’d have no reason to know this wasn’t real, unless Alex had actually told them the truth.

“I’m sure she’ll love that, Mrs. Peters. No, we haven’t had a chance to tell them. They should be making an appearance any minute, though.”

“Your parents will be thrilled.”

“I’m sure they will.”

Like clockwork, his parents entered the room and began making their rounds. It wasn’t long before his mother was congratulating us, and his father was calling for more champagne. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Ward watching carefully. When our eyes made contact, he raised his glass to me. I nodded my thanks before Alexander’s mother grabbed my attention once more.

I’d like to say the night of my engagement was a happy night full of love and excitement, but truthfully, it was the longest night of my life. I didn’t have time to focus on anything but the whirlwind around me, but that night as I lay in bed, I did the only thing I could do to fall asleep—I imagined what it would have been like if it had been Maverick who proposed. I imagined the words he would have said, where he would have taken me, how it would have been private until we shared it with our close friends. It wouldn’t have been a boisterous affair full of paparazzi and strangers offering their congratulations. It would have been romantic and personal, or at least in my imagination it was.

Chapter Twenty-Two

The wedding planning began immediately. My father practically told me not to worry about showing up to the office, which was fine by me. At this point, I wasn’t really working for my father. I was more of an accessory who was there to look pretty and keep my mouth shut. Smile. Bat my eyelashes. Speak when spoken to. Never commit to anything. Refer all business dealings to Dick. That was my job—be the pretty, dumb blonde who kept Daddy’s business in the family.

The only thing I looked forward to were my now weekly lunches with Ward. I wondered if they were pity lunches at first, but we rarely discussed my pathetic New York life. In fact, we enjoyed spending time talking and laughing together in a completely platonic, he’s-marrying-the-love-of-his-life-who-isn’t-me kind of way. Bronwyn, his gorgeous fiancée, joined us for lunch every once in a while when she could get away. As we were leaving she had said, “You two are too much together. It’s a wonder you aren’t actually siblings.” The sentiment gave me a warm and fuzzy feeling, because the little girl inside of me had always wanted a real sibling. Having a brother-type—who was several years older and wiser, I might add—was a gift at this point in my life.

We had lunch the day everything started to unravel. I came into the restaurant and slammed my Louis Vuitton bag into a cream-colored upholstered chair before dropping unceremoniously into another cushioned seat myself.

“Bad day?” Ward asked with his eyebrows raised over the menu he was reading.

I pressed my lips together and glared up at him. “What gave you that idea?”

He calmly closed his menu and sat straighter in his chair. “What’s going on, Katherine?” His face was now showing concern as opposed to the amusement from moments before.

“My parents want me to marry an egotistical, uncivilized moron.”

Amusement returned to Ward’s face, and his eyes glittered with humor. “Please explain. I can’t wait to hear this.”

A boyish waiter quickly came to the table and filled my water glass. “Can I get you something to drink, miss?”

“Vodka tonic, please.”

The waiter nodded and walked away. Ward laughed a little, knowing I never drank anything but water or the occasional glass of wine. “Hitting the hard stuff today?”

“Ugh…” I groaned. “I have to. This is why there are so many alcoholics in the Hamptons. Men are ridiculous.” I paused. “Sorry…some men are ridiculous. Present company excluded.”

“Of course,” he nodded. “Spill it, Peters.”

“You know we had that photo session in DC yesterday, right? Political family preparing for an election and a wedding kind of thing.”

“Sure. Publicity stunt. You knew those were coming.”

“Yes, of course. That wasn’t the problem. I had to get up at three in the morning to get ready because he insisted on flying in the morning of the shoot. Not surprisingly, he was running late, so he sent the car to my place first. When we pull up to his building, the bastard’s outside kissing a woman goodbye.” She was a buxom brunette with curves I would never see on my body, but that wasn’t worth mentioning. For some reason, all the men I’m supposed to marry find beautiful brown-haired women with curves who would make an hourglass jealous. Whatever.

Ward sputtered and laughed just as the very young waiter gingerly returned with my drink and took our orders with an extra glance in my direction. Yeah, I looked like the kind of girl to rob the cradle. Fishing in the wrong stream, buddy. As if I need more issues with men.

“Right? That would have been dumb enough, but it gets better. He gets in the car reeking of the tramp’s perfume and has her trashy lipstick on his cheek. Moron,” I huffed again. “Anyway, I glare at him as he climbs in, trying not to point out what an idiot he is for handling his tomfoolery in a place where he could be seen, but I couldn’t hold my tongue.”

“So you called him out on it? What’d he say?”

“First,” I held up a finger angrily, “he tells me that I’m doing well getting into my role of the nagging wife with a patronizing pat on the hand. I almost clawed his eyeballs out for that, but then he said, ‘Don’t worry. They know how to be discreet.’”

“They?” Ward asked.

“Exactly what I said. He nodded and told me they were professionals. She was a prostitute,” I whisper-shouted to Ward. I glanced around to make sure no one was listening as Ward laughed behind his fist. “Well, he then proceeds to tell me that he would ‘fuck his fiancée’ if she could handle it.” I whispered the f-word so the patrons around us wouldn’t be offended. Anger didn’t cause me to lose my manners. At least there was that.

“What?” Ward asked a little too loudly.

“Yeah, apparently we aren’t ‘fucking’ because I would get too attached, and my mother said there should be no additional emotional baggage. It was part of the deal.”

“Thank God.”

“God had nothing to do with it. My lunatic mother’s fear of unplanned pregnancy is my saving grace. That’s about the only thing my mother did for me in this whole mess.” I raised my glass to that. “There’s still more.”

“I don’t know if I can hear any more and keep a straight face around him.”

“You’re listening to the rest of this. I have to tell someone before I kill him or my father. I can’t go to jail. Although, I feel certain there isn’t a woman in America who wouldn’t want to have at least one crack at Alexander or Dick after this.”

The waiter chose then to bring out our lunches, and I saw his eyes go wide when he heard what I said. Yeah, buddy, all women are this crazy. Good luck to you.

“Carry on,” Ward nodded once waiter boy had speedily retreated from the table after placing our plates as quickly and carefully as he could.

“After he tells me about my mom suggesting the no-sex rule, I suggested that maybe he could be a little more discreet in his endeavors to get laid. I may have added something in there about my father needing to trust his business to someone with more intelligence. Alexander then asked me who I thought told him where to find women that can keep their mouths shut.”

“No!” Ward’s fork froze halfway between his plate and his mouth.

“Yes!” I was back to whisper-shouting. “My father suggested that it would be in poor taste for Alex to be picking up his own companions before the wedding. He even gave Alex a number to call.” I downed the rest of my vodka and slammed my glass on the table, causing an ice cube to jump out onto the starched white tablecloth. Ward dropped his fork and waved to the waiter, indicating he bring two more drinks. It appeared he was going to join me in my lunchtime stupor.

“Holy shit.”

“That’s what I said,” I agreed, feeling much calmer now that someone else had heard the story. “Then I had to go play kissy face and smile for the damn photographers, all the while thinking about where his mouth had been the night before.”

Ward shook his head with his eyes closed. He laughed a little then pinched the bridge of his nose for a moment. I wasn’t sure what he was thinking, but I figured it was somewhere along the lines of shock and disgust. When he finally opened his eyes, I saw the one thing that hurt more than anything—pity. “You cannot marry that asshole, Katherine,” he said sadly.

I let out an angry breath. “Right. What am I supposed to do? He’ll stop paying for Jack’s treatments, and if anyone should pay to save someone’s life, it’s Dick.”

“I don’t disagree, but this has gone far enough. You cannot marry Alexander.”

I looked him right in the eye and said the words I was so unwilling to say a month ago. “Then give me a way out, because at this point, I just might take it.”

He watched me thoughtfully for a moment then said, “Let me think about it.”

We went about eating our lunches quietly for a moment.

“I can’t believe he let her spend the night,” Ward laughed.

“I know! He looked like he got some sleep too, so I doubt it was a marathon. I’ve seen him after pulling an all-nighter at work. The moron needs makeup to cover those dark circles and brighten his pale skin when he doesn’t get his six hours of beauty rest.”

“She must not be that great at her job, then,” he deduced with a wink.

“I don’t know. I know where I can get her number if you want to find out,” I facetiously offered.

“Bronywn would love that.”

“Perhaps you could invite her. Maybe she could give the girl some feedback. Help her improve her performance for the next time she’s with my darling fiancé.”

“Too far, Katherine. Too far.”

“Truer words were never spoken,” I told him, referring to the whole situation, not just the inappropriate lunchtime conversation.

He raised his glass to me in understanding.