“And yet, here we are,” he singsongs, looking happy with himself. “Getting you up and ready for yourjust-marriednight.” He can barely contain his laughter. “Oh wait.” He brings his index finger in the air. “You’ve already done that.”
I stare him down. “I don’t need to get ready. I’m not fucking eighty.”
“You’d be surprised,” he mumbles, and then adds louder, “Anyway, you liking her might actually make this situation bearable. I know you’ve been forced into it, but so has she. Don’t forget about that.” Then he adds with a dark chuckle, “To think of it, she’s got the worst end of this deal. Living with you, brother. For five years?” A shake of his head. “Especially with you behaving like a Neanderthal because you like her and don’t know how to treat her ’cause of that. Like pulling pigtails in school.”
“I don’t like her, Noah.” It comes out as a growl. “And the idea of being married to her sounds like torture.” I pause, contemplating if I should tell him the whole story. “Do you remember what I mentioned about the chick in the fire?”
His forehead wrinkles with concentration. “Yeah, something about a homeless woman sleeping there. That’s about it.”
I didn’t tell him the whole story. For someincomprehensible reason, I didn’t want to share it. Maybe I wanted to keep her indebted to me only. Maybe it was something else.
“The cops thought she caused the fire.”
“No fucking way.” He falls into the chair with an open mouth. “Can we charge her? Will it help to save the company?”
“It will,” I answer vaguely. “But not for the reason you think. Maeve is the woman from the fire. Blackmailing her into marrying me is a good way to ensure we’ll get the shares because she’ll stay married for all the years it’s needed to retain them.” I drop the part where I could easily marry the other sister and be done with it—she was very eager to escape her ‘fantastic’ family and for sure would have stayed for five years written in the contract Wrong presented me. He’d transfer the shares the moment we sign our names, but they go back if the marriage is done before the five-year mark.
“Maeve?” He blinks.
“Maeve.” I nod.
“The homeless person sleeping in our building is the daughter of a multimillionaire? The very same one you’re about to get married to?” His eyes keep widening with every word as they settle in his mind.
“Yes, it’s her. So we’ve known each other. And man,” I wipe my face with my hand, “she’s one hell of a disaster. I mean, from the first moment I met her, she’s been fucking with me.”
“Wait, wait, wait.” He stops me with a raised hand. “Is she the same one who kept messing with your coffee in the mornings and made you a fire-breathing dragon before you even stepped foot in the office?”
I nod.
“Oh, shit.” He starts laughing. “This is going to beinteresting. You definitely should go through with this marriage. It will be entertaining if anything.”
I gloom over his words. His enthusiasm and sudden change of his opinion about this scheme make me pause and wonder if I’m actually doing the right thing. If my brother so easily agrees to it, it’s probably not.
“She’s cool,” he continues explaining why I should go with it. “Smart, funny, from what I’ve gathered so far. And beautiful.”
I snort. “And entitled. She can’t do anything. I mean, nothing. Everything she touches goes up in flames.” Including my skin and mind. When she touches me, I’m a goner. This is why I can’t let this deal become more than just a deal.
“You mean literally I suppose,” he cackles.
“That too.”
Something rattles outside, and Noah rushes to check it. He opens the door to the balcony and lets out a surprised gasp.
“Hi.” His voice is one of a squeaking rabbit.
“Hello, Noah.”
At Maeve’s calm voice, my heart freezes. How long has she been there?
“How are you?” Noah asks, trying to sound cheerful. No Oscars for this guy anytime soon. “What are you doing here?”
“Our rooms are adjoined,” she explains calmly, jerking her head at another door. “And we share the balcony.”
“Yeah,” Noah laughs shakily. “I see that.”
“Maeve,” I call, coming outside.
Wearing a fluffy, white robe, she’s leaning her elbows on the rails, staring at the ocean without acknowledging me.
