Cross Check (Marriage Contract #1) (8 page)

“Then it all goes…to me?” Cordelia breathes.

I glance over at Loudon’s daughter, watching as dollar signs
dance in her big blue eyes. A wave of nausea courses through me. The only
person less suited to run King Enterprises than Jamison is Cordelia. She’d sell
off the entire operation and buy herself a private island, no doubt. The only way
I can take my rightful place as the leader of this business, make sure that it
continues to thrive, is to convince Jamison to back down. Or else…marry him?
No. That’s too absurd to even consider.

“I have an old friend from Harvard who’s done quite well as
a lawyer,” I say, drawing myself to my full, if modest, height. “I’ll have her
take a look at all of this and get back to you, Mr. Price. Just fax me all the
relevant documents.”

“You’re more than welcome to seek other counsel. But I’m
telling you, she’s gonna come back with the same conclusion I did,” Price says.

“I’ll let her be the judge of that,” I reply. “Jamison, I
suggest you think long and hard about what you want to do here. I’m sure if you
take your ego out of the picture, you’ll see that stepping aside and taking a
more modest role in the company is the best way to go.”

“Huh,” Jay grins, “Maybe you should take your own advice
Brody. Give that ego of yours a rest.”

Before I can say something I’ll regret, I turn on my heel
and march out of the conference room. Price leaps out of his chair as I make my
exit, shouting after me.

“I need an answer in two weeks’ time, both of you!
Otherwise, everything will go directly to Cordelia.”

I can hear my heart pounding in my ears as I tear across the
marble foyer, wrench open the heavy front doors, and burst out into the warm
June evening. I suck huge, steadying breaths in my lungs as I hurry back toward
the groundskeeper’s cottage in my towering heels. Surely, this is just a
ridiculous misunderstanding. I can’t actually be expected to
marry
Jamison King, just for the sake of doing business. What was Loudon thinking,
proposing something like this?

Despite my outrage at this whole situation, I can’t keep my
mind from reeling back to just before the news of Loudon’s will was delivered.
Upstairs in the study, Jay and I had shared a real moment of connection. Just a
second where we felt as close as we did when we were star-crossed teenagers
stealing a night in the gazebo. Even closer. That kiss had been intense. Real.
Or so I had thought. How did we go from lust to animosity in the course of an
hour?

I guess that’s just Jamison King for you. Love him or hate
him—there’s no in-between. Hopefully there’s more wiggle room than that in his
father’s damned will.

Chapter Six

“I gotta tell you dude, this is pretty grim,” says my friend
Alice Phillips on the phone the next morning. Alice, who I met while we were
both at Harvard, is a successful lawyer in her own right, and agreed to go over
the fine print of Loudon and Priscilla’s will right away.

“Does that mean you can’t find a loophole either?” I ask,
shoving a hand through my hair as I sit in the cottage’s sunny breakfast nook.
Gigi, sensing my distress, has been curled up on my lap all morning.

“Not really,” Alice replies. She was never one for mincing
words, “Loudon King really fucked you over with this.”

“I know he was just trying to make sure we were taken care
of,” I groan, letting my head fall back against the window, “I just wish he’d
thought of a less… creative way to do it.”

“You want my advice?” Alice asks.

“Please,” I reply earnestly.

“Find a new job,” she tells me, “I mean it.”

“I can’t just walk away from King Enterprises,” I tell her
frankly, “No way. Jamison and Cordelia will ruin the company if they get their
hands on it.”

“First of all, you don’t know that,” Alice replies, “And
second of all, who cares? You’re infinitely employable. You can go work your
way up to the top of another entertainment empire.”

“But that’s just the thing, Al. I
do
care about this
business. Probably way too much,” I tell my friend.

“I’ll say,” she replies. I can practically hear her shaking
her head. “Well. If you’re dead set on staying on at King Enterprises, maybe
you should just consider marrying the guy?”

“What?!” I exclaim, sitting up so fast that Gigi flies out
of my lap, “Al, you can’t be serious right now.”

“Why not?” she shoots back, “Since when are you a romantic
when it comes to marriage? You’ve always said yourself that it’s an empty
institution.”

“I may have said that in college,” I remind her, “What the
hell did I know about marriage then, huh?”

“About as much as you do now. You’re still chronically
single, aren’t you?”

“I prefer the term ‘career-minded’,” I tell her coolly.
“Marriage just isn’t for me.”

“Then what’s the harm in having a fake one?”

“No. That’s crazy,” I cut her off, though of course the
wheels of my brain start spinning. “Look, thank you for going over the will. I
just…I need some time to think.”

“No worries,” she replies, “And hey, I’ll keep looking over
this thing for you. Maybe I can find you a way out of it.”

“Thanks,” I tell her, “I really appreciate it, lady.”

“Hey, what are friends for if not getting you out of weird
corporate marriages?” she asks.

We say goodbye and hang up just as my dad trundles down the
stairs. He likes to sleep in a little on Sundays, but I’ve been wide awake for
hours. I didn’t exactly sleep soundly after everything that happened yesterday.

“Morning, honey,” Dad says, ruffling my red hair.

“Morning, Dad. There’s some coffee on,” I reply
distractedly, staring out the kitchen window as I try to sort through my
careening thoughts.

“Hey, you doin’ all right?” Dad asks, glancing over his
shoulder at me as he pours himself a cup. “You’ve been acting off ever since
you got back from the reception yesterday.”

“I’m just…still in shock about Loudon and Priscilla,” I tell
him, which is not untrue. It’s just also true that I’m in shock about a whole
score of other things, too.

“Grieving takes time,” Dad nods sagely, laying a hand on my
shoulder, “We know that full well, don’t we?”

“We sure do,” I say softly, planting a kiss on my dad’s
palm.

We were each other’s only support when Mom lost her battle
with cancer. God, what I wouldn’t give to have her here today. Maybe she, in
all her pragmatic wisdom, could tell me what the hell I’m supposed to do about
this whole mess with Jamison?

Just as Dad’s about to join me at the table, there’s a knock
on the front door. I look up, surprised. Who could that be on a Sunday morning?

“Probably just one of the landscapers returning something,”
Dad says, rerouting toward the foyer.

I settle back in the breakfast nook as he goes to answer the
door. A moment later, I hear my dad’s exuberant, cheerful voice welcoming
someone inside, the sound of two sets of feet approaching the kitchen. Blinking
up in the morning light, I see my dad’s beaming face reappear in the kitchen
doorway.

“Look who stopped by for a visit!” he says happily, stepping
aside to let our unexpected guest by.

I freeze as a second person appears. The person that’s been
occupying most of my thoughts for the past twelve hours. Jamison King. His
insanely tall form makes our cottage look like a hobbit hole—he practically has
to stoop to make it through the doorway without clonking his head. He’s wearing
a pair of well-loved jeans and a crew neck sweatshirt, but he still manages to
look far more put together than me. I’m still rocking the tiny cotton shorts
and tank top I slept in…and my barely-clothed state definitely doesn’t escape
Jay’s notice.

“Hey Brody,” he grins, raising an amused eyebrow at my
getup. “Sleep OK?”

“Sure,” I reply, aping his casual tone. The last thing I
want is for my dad to know that there’s something up between us. I haven’t
exactly filled him in on the details of Loudon’s ridiculous will. “What brings
you by?”

“Wanted to see if you’d be up for a walk,” Jay says, “It’s a
beautiful morning.”

“Thanks, but I’d really like to spend some more time with my
dad before I head back to the city,” I tell him coolly.

“Don’t be silly!” Dad interjects, “I don’t mind at all. You
two barely get to see each other! Go on. I still need to wake up anyway.”

“See? Frank doesn’t mind,” Jamison says, his grin growing
wider, “What do you say?”

“Uh. Sure,” I relent, grabbing a slouchy sweater to throw on
over my cat-hair coated ensemble, “Why the hell not.”

Jamison was right about one thing. It is a beautiful
morning. Summer is finally upon us, and the smells of salty sea air and sweet
honeysuckle make my heart ache with nostalgia. How many summers did Jay and I
spend tumbling around this property, with hardly a care in the world? Who would
have ever guessed that we’d find ourselves back here under these bizarre
circumstances. Me without a mother, him suddenly orphaned, with an insane set
of expectations being thrust upon us both.

“Listen,” Jay finally says, as we amble along the path to
the beach, “I want to apologize for lashing out at you yesterday. That wasn’t
fair of me.”

“No. It wasn’t,” I reply, “We’re both in the same boat here,
Jay.”

“We are,” he agrees, “Which is why I wanted to come and talk
this whole thing over with you, one on one.”

“Well,” I sigh, “I had my lawyer friend look over your dad’s
will. And Greg was right, Loudon’s wishes are ironclad. We either have to agree
on who should run the company in the next two weeks, get hitched, or watch
Cordelia sell the whole thing off for scrap.”

Jamison shudders at this last possibility. “We can’t let
Delia get her hands on the company. I’m sure you can at least agree with me
about that.”

“Absolutely,” I tell him, “That’s the worst case scenario.”

“Huh,” Jay says, glancing over at me with a rakish smile,
“So marrying me
isn’t
the worst case scenario for you, then?”

“I—I just meant—” I stammer, feeling unaccountably bashful,
“It’s not like getting married is actually an option.”

“Well,” he replies, “It’s not an option we’ve considered.
Yet…”

His words stop me dead in my tracks.

“Yet?” I echo. “What do you mean—?”

“That’s what I wanted to talk to you about, Leah,” Jay goes
on, hooking his thumbs in his jeans pockets, “I think we owe it to ourselves to
discuss all of our options, here. Including honoring my father’s wishes by
getting married and running King Enterprises together.”

I stare at Jamison’s cool, collected features as I wait for
the punchline.

“Oh. I get it,” I reply, laughing nervously, “You’re fucking
with me, here.”

“No. I’m not,” Jay says, with a totally straight face.

“In that case, you must still be drunk from last night to
even suggest discussing this,” I tell him, crossing my arms tightly across my
chest.

“You mean last night when we were about to fuck in my dad’s
study?” he shoots back, taking a step toward me. “You can’t tell me we don’t
have chemistry. Not after
that
.”

“I’m not about to deny that there’s
nothing
between
us,” I shrug, “But wanting to sleep with each other isn’t grounds for
marriage
.”

“First of all, thanks for admitting that you want to sleep
with me,” he grins mischievously, “And second of all, that’s not the only thing
we have going for us as a couple.”

“No?” I challenge him, secretly thrilling at his use of the
word
couple
.

“Don’t act like what I’m saying is crazy,” he says, “We’re a
good match, and you know it. We’ve known each other forever, we have
professional goals in common, and our sexual chemistry is off the fucking
charts.”

“We had sex one time,” I remind him, “Twelve years ago.”

“Well,
that
can be rectified any time you like,” he
grins, running his hands down my arms as he closes the space between our
bodies.

“Of course it can,” I tell him, refusing to give him the
power, here, “Because you’ve always been a sucker for me, Jamison King.”

“And you’ve always been the one person I can count on to
call me on my bullshit,” he replies, letting his arms slip around my waist.
“Another reason why we’d make a great team.”

“You’d still be a member of my team if you took a less
senior position and let me move up to president of the company,” I point out,
trailing my fingertips down his chest.

Jamison’s eyes flash dangerously at the suggestion.

“No fucking way,” he growls, his face mere inches from mine,
“I’m not giving up my right to run this company. No matter how much you happen
to turn me on.”

“Well,” I sigh, planting my hands on his chest and giving
him a firm shove, “Then I guess we’re at an impasse, aren’t we?”

My breath catches as Jamison grabs hold of my wrists.

“Just think about it, Brody,” he says, “If not for my sake,
then for my dad’s. There’s a reason he wanted us to be together. Maybe he knew
us better than we know ourselves.”

“Maybe you’re right,” I allow, letting Jamison keep his hold
on me, “But Loudon isn’t the one I’d be marrying. If you want me to consider
this,
you
need to convince me.”

“Fine,” Jay says, letting go of my wrists as he takes my
face in his firm hands, “Challenge accepted.”

Before I can say a word, he seals our deal with a swift,
searing kiss that sends my world spinning madly on its axis. Just two weeks
ago, my life was more or less set on its course. But I should have known the
second Jay showed up at the restaurant that my nice, predictable life would
never be the same. Jamison King is chaos itself. Do I really have the courage,
the strength, to take that chaos head-on? To even consider embracing the
madness, letting it fully into my life? The idea of being Jay’s partner is daunting,
to say the least. But does that mean that it’s necessarily wrong?

There’s only one way to find out. I have to live in this
question. Really consider it. Alison was right—I’ve never had any starry-eyed
notions about finding my One True Love. Marriage has never been that important
to me, so why I am so opposed to having a strategic one? Maybe I’m reacting so
strongly against the idea because it’s secretly so appealing to me.

The world settles around us once more as Jay takes a step
back from me, the taste of him lingering on my lips. Gazing up at him in the
early summer light, I dare to imagine the life we could have as partners. A
life of great sex, financial stability, and comfort—that’s what Jamison King
could give me. Not exactly love, perhaps, but I’ve made it this far without
having that in my life anyway…

“So what happens now?” I ask him.

“Now,” he replies, “You let me take my best shot at
convincing you to marry me.”

“Oh god,” I scoff, as we continue along the trail to the
beach, “What does that even mean, your best shot? Flowers and chocolates and
shit?”

“Please,” Jamison laughs, glancing down at me as the salty
sea breeze tosses my auburn hair, “Give me a little credit.”

“Well, what then?” I press, as the bay rises up before us,
“How do you plan to convince me, Jay?”

“By showing you exactly what being married to me would be
like,” he replies, “Starting with all of this.”

He sweeps his arm across the expansive King estate, from the
stately mansion to the rolling grounds.

“I don’t understand…” I say slowly.

“Then let me spell it out for you,” he replies, his eyes
gleaming with pride, “If you were my wife, Leah, I could provide for you like
no one ever has. Not only would you be getting a share in my parents’ estate,
you’d be sharing mine. I’m not sure if you know this, Leah, but I’ve done
pretty damn well for myself these past few years.”

“Yeah, I figured…” I tell him, recalling his countless
endorsements and ad campaigns, his great professional success as a hockey
player. It didn’t even occur to me until this minute that marrying Jamison
would mean benefiting from that success.

“I’m sure my dad was paying you well,” Jay goes on, “But I
could give you a level a comfort that you’ve never even dreamed of.”

“Are you seriously encouraging me to marry you for your
money?” I ask him incredulously.

“Sure. Among other things,” he smiles, “I’m not an idiot,
Leah. I’m not asking you to fall head over heels in love with me or anything.
I’m just saying, you should think about your future. Your father’s future, too.