"Well, as I'm sure you know," Janice said, peeking at me over the rim of her glasses, "your mother and I have vetted a few candidates ahead of time. Your mother was very particular, so I'm confident you'll have the best of the best when you choose a first date." Janice, although older than my mother and peppered with fine lines and gray streaks in her long, dark hair, clearly possessed an uncanny intelligence. Her eyes communicated with me in a way I didn't think was possible without words.If you do not like this, you must speak up. I am on your side.
Ah, but I couldn't. I had to go along with this farce, whether I wanted to or not. The good thing was that I'd had three days to digest what my mother had told me and how I would handle it.
Yes, she was forcing me to sign a legal contract with a man I would probably meet all of once or twice before we married. But she couldn't dictate what that marriage looked like. Whoever this person was, I would have to assume that my mother had either bought him off or had blackmail hanging over his head. He wouldn't be likely to call things off right away, so an immediate divorce wasn't going to be an option.
But maybe he would agree to separate lives. We could pretend for Sylvia and do our best to not affect the other one's life in any significant way going forward. It wasn't like I had been planning on falling in love or marrying anyone else, anyway. I had never gotten the experience in my twenties, and now I was too busy. I couldn't imagine another human being justfittinginto my life. God willing, whoever this guy was, he was just as irritated by the arrangement as I was, and we could find a loophole.
"Well, here are the candidates we felt matched your preferences," Janice said, pulling three files from her desk and splaying them on the surface neatly. I was willing to bet my momalready knew these men. She knew their weaknesses and she already knew they would go along with her plans. Whoever they were, they would do what Sylvia said. Ultimately, it didn't matter which one I chose.
I tapped the first one on the left. "That one."
Janice's salt-and-pepper eyebrows rose above her glasses. "My dear, I haven't said a word about them."
"I know." I pulled my phone out of my purse and checked the time. "It's just a first date, right? I trust Mom." I looked up from my phone and found exactly what I'd been hoping to see on Sylvia's face.
Irritation. She wanted me to take this seriously, to pore over her hard work, to give a damn about these candidates she had researched, vetted, bribed, and blackmailed. She wanted me to play. But I wasn't a player. I was a game piece. And I wasn't going to participate of my own volition. "Are you sure?" she asked through her perfectly white teeth.
"Absolutely." I stood, holding out a hand to Janice again. "It was lovely to meet you. Thank you for all your hard work. Will you text me his information? I'll take it from there." Actually, my mother would take it from there, but pot-ay-to, pot-ah-to.
Janice had the grace to keep her expression neutral. "Of course. I'm glad it was such an efficient process for you." I didn't sense any disappointment or reprimand in her voice. Actually, she sounded a little intrigued. "Do be sure to tell me how things work out for you."
"Absolutely."Spoiler alert: We'll be getting married in two months.
Sylvia rose from her chair, taking the file with a stuttered apology for Janice, and then she caught up with me as I marched purposefully out of the dating agency. "Whatever you're about to say," I said as she opened her mouth, "I have a tight schedulewhile I'm here. I assume you'll want me to meet him while I'm in the area."
"Arabella," she hissed.
"Set it up, send me the date and time, and I'll make it work." I shot off a text to Aimee at Summit Sanctuary, telling her I was finished here and would meet her when she was ready. If I had to be in Oregon, I was going to make the best of it. Park City had plenty of resources for Mending Hearts Ranch, but we couldn't always find homes for our rehabilitated animals. Aimee had some ideas about reaching out to adoptees in the western states between us.
"Do you even want to know his name?" she asked tartly.
I turned at the elevator, punching the button and leveling a hard glare her way. "I would rather juice my eyeballs." The doors opened, and I stepped inside, my expression remaining unflinching. "You can get the next one."
Sylvia fairly shook with rage, her small frame tight and mouth thinned to a pencil line. Then the doors closed, and I slumped against the wall.
This was Hell. I didn't know how I was supposed to get through this with my sanity intact, but I knew I had to find a way. Otherwise, I would lose everything.Theywould lose everything. I'd taken responsibility for these animals, and I owed it to them to try everything in my power before giving up. So, I had to marry a stranger. It was fine. I could do this.
As the elevator doors opened, they fanned a cold breeze over my damp cheeks. Sniffing, I wiped away the moisture, pulling my thoughts from melancholic self-pity and back to business. If I kept busy, then I wouldn't have to think about it or face my reality until he was literally standing in front of me, whoever he was. And even then, I would simply pretend it was a business engagement. A deal.
A text came through on my phone, and I checked it, walking slowly through the foyer.
Sylvia:
His name is Harry. I've invited him over for pie Thanksgiving night. It is up to you to make this work. You know the consequences if you don't.
I didn't get the chance to type back a reply because a familiar voice asked, "Ara?"
I looked up, surprised to find my brother standing in the lobby. He was wearing his usual white button-down and black slacks, but his light blond hair looked a little less tidy than usual, and he had on a pair of bright red tennis shoes instead of his usual dress shoes.
Beside him, his best friend, Spencer, looked up from his phone. He was impossible to miss—intimidatingly tall and broad-chested, his enormous frame took up so much space, I'd have to be blind not to see him. Where my brother was lithe and strong in a subtle way, Spencer was obviously brawny. He didn't mind being overt about anything… ever. He never hid who he was, from his muscled body, his Viking hairstyle with its shaved bottom and top knot, his garish scrubs with loud cartoon characters, to his ready laugh and teasing mannerisms. Spencer was thunderous.
And he was a pain in my ass.
His dark, warm eyes landed on me with a touch of surprise. "Bee?" He'd called me that since I'd been in middle school. It had started as Ara-B, and then he'd just shortened it to Bee because it irritated me.
I looked around the lobby in confusion. "What are you two doing here?"
"Have you beencrying?" Knox asked in muted horror.
