I feel like I should be offended. “What’s wrong with that?”
“Nothing! I’m a Leo. We’re…actually pretty compatible.”
I let out a breath. Last thing I need is the stars deciding we’re not a good match. Not that I believe in any of that stuff, but if she does, then I need to start doing my research.
Stella locks her phone again and bites her lip, a hint of apprehension in her eyes. “How long would we do this for? I mean, obviously we’re not going to stay married for the rest of our lives. This is a temporary, mutually beneficial arrangement.”
Spoken like a true businesswoman. But she’s right that this can’t last for long. We both deserve the chance to find and date other people we might have a connection with, even if thereisa spark of…somethingbetween us. I’m under no impression that Stella is my forever person—despite reciting vows that said as much—and she clearly feels the same.
“We can do it for as long as we think it’s helping us,” I suggest. “And when one or both of us are ready for it to end, we’ll talk it over and set a divorce date.”
“We should stay married for at least a year,” she declares, and she must take my surprise for alarm because she quickly follows it up with, “Just on paper. If we decide we’re sick of each other sooner than that, then we’ll quietly separate and do our own things until time’s up. But divorcing any earlier than that won’t look good.”
She has a point. And who knows if we’ll have accomplished what we want by then anyway.
“That’s reasonable,” I agree. “So…does that mean you’re in? You want to do this?”
Her gaze drops to her lap as she considers. This is quite possibly the most absurd thing I’ve ever done, and I’m sure she feels the same.
Yet her eyes find mine again a moment later, and the determined glint in them tells me her answer before her lips form the words.
“I’m in,” she says. “Let’s stay married.”
Chapter 11
Stella
Agreeing to stay married to Thomas is one thing. Actually following through with it is another, especially when members of my family are on the other side of the door.
We need to get out of here as quickly as possible before anyone corners or questions us. Thomas and I aren’t done talking—there are a thousand things we need to hash out before we can move forward with this plan—but this isn’t the right venue for it. I’m about to suggest we go back to my hotel when the door bangs open and we’re both left blinking at a cloud of tulle.
Janelle shoves herself inside the room. “You two are in deep trouble,” she announces. “Not only are you stealing my spotlight, Stella, but your parents are freaking out. They want to talk to you.” Then she jerks her chin at Thomas. “And him.”
“Fuuuck.” I drag the word out on an exhale, eyes sliding closed to shut out the world for a heavy second. “I’m so sorry, Elle. I hope I didn’t ruin your day.”
The scratch and shuffle of fabric floats through the air, getting me to look over at Janelle again, but she’s already in frontof me, attempting to squeeze herself into the tiny space between Thomas and me on the couch.
“No apologies,” she says, grabbing my hand and holding tight. “You didn’t mean for any of this to happen. Is there anything I can do to help? I know you’ve got lawyers of your own, but do you need me to find you someone local to get started on the annulment? You probably don’t want to put that off now that the news is out.”
I lock eyes with Thomas over Janelle’s head, icy panic spreading through my veins. How the hell am I supposed to answer her question? Do I tell her the truth—that we’re staying married but it’s a sham? Or do I lie and tell her to start looking? Neither seems like a good option, and judging from the way Thomas is British-grimacing right now, he’s leaving the choice up to me.
“Actually,” I start cautiously, still staring at Thomas and hoping he’ll give me a sign if I take my answer too far, “we’ve decided to stay married for now.”
Janelle jerks away like I’ve slapped her, eyes wide. “That’s a big departure from your attitude earlier.”
The cold panic shifts to hot embarrassment when one of Thomas’s eyebrows rises questioningly. He knows I’ve been adamant about getting us out of this situation, so it shouldn’t be a surprise that I told Janelle our story and how I felt.
“Yeah, well, we decided it could be for the best.” I clear my throat and force myself to look at her instead of Thomas. “Can we talk more about this tomorrow? I need to get out of here before my parents find me.”
Her lips twist to the side. “I don’t know if you’ll be able to leave without talking to them. They’re on the warpath.”
I bite my tongue to keep from swearing again, becausegreat. Just great! I might be able to avoid the finer details in thisconversation about what’s going on, but there will be no avoiding it with my parents. They’re going to make sure all the information comes outnow.
Plus, this isn’t the way I wanted Thomas to meet them—if he ever had to at all. Logically, I know it has to happen eventually, because not meeting your partner’s loving and supportive parents is a massive red flag. But introducing my real-but-actually-fake husband to them is the last thing I want to do.
And then there’s the whole issue ofhowI’m going to introduce him. It’s too much of a risk to let them in on the truth of the situation lest they accidentally let something slip and ruin the charade, but that means I’m going to have to lie. And that somehow feels even worse.
“Then we’ll just have to face them,” Thomas says, and my eyes snap back up to him.
