Maybe Yes (9 page)

“You both know why you’re here, so let’s get started on some of the details.”
 

I nod and see Killian nodding stoically next to me.
So, he does know he’s here to marry me?
 

“My son and I thought you two would make a perfect match. Kinsley is about to graduate from Yale. She’s an experienced model. She’s beautiful.”
 

Killian nods, but he doesn’t say anything as Granddad tries to sell me to him.
 

Granddad turns to face me now. “Killian has been working for the company for five years. He graduated from Harvard. He is our current VP of Casino Operations. He’s intelligent, ambitious, confident, focused, decisive, and professional.”
 

I nod at my grandfather, disappointed that he’s listed several positive personality traits of Killian’s, while I got beautiful. That’s all I am to these men.
 

I watch as he digs in the desk drawer before pulling out a stack of papers. He hands one stack to me and one to Killian.
 

“These are the terms of Robert’s will. It includes everything that the two of you need to do in order to inherit his shares of the company. There is also a copy of my will and what you will need to do to get my shares as well. It also includes what we expect before we’ll make you CEO, Killian,” he says, staring at Killian now.
 

He nods.
 

“Both of you need to read it over in the next couple of days, so you understand everything.” He focuses his attention on Killian, like he is the only one who gets a say in any of this. “You have one month to decide. That’s all I can give you. I’ll need an answer then.”
 

“Of course,” Killian says. He glances down at his watch. “I’m sorry to cut this meeting short, but I have another meeting I need to get to.”
 

Granddad stands, smiling. “Don’t worry, Killian. I’m having Tony cover the meeting today. Instead, I have a reservation for you two at the new restaurant downstairs.”

“Sir, I’m not sure Tony is the best man for the job. He’s not up-to-date yet on the new systems.”
 

“I agree, but this”—Granddad points to me and then back to Killian—“is a more pressing issue at the moment.”
 

Killian glares at my grandfather but doesn’t argue again.
 

He turns to me. “Would you like to have lunch with me?”
 

“Yes.” My answer isn’t forced. I want to have lunch with Killian.
 

I have a lot of questions for him.
Why the hell did he agree to marry a complete stranger? And did he know who I was when he stared at me from across the blackjack table? Did he know exactly what he was doing when he seduced me?
Because the longer I know Killian, the more I have a strange feeling that he did.

I stare down at the menu. I haven’t said a word since we left my father’s office. Killian hasn’t either. I think he’s giving me time to process everything. I try to look at the menu to at least make up my mind on what I’m going to eat. Then, I can focus on what just happened.
 

“What can I get you to drink?” the bubbly waitress asks.
 

“Um…” I say. I take a deep breath, trying to decide what wine I want. I want wine—no, I
need
wine to get through this, but I have no idea about wines. I eye a delicious-looking cheeseburger as a waitress passes by with it before placing it on the table next to us.
 

“We will both have a glass of Chateau Margaux Bordeaux ’61, if you have it. If not, then ’82. We will have the vegetables and hummus appetizer. And we will both have the salmon with asparagus.”
 

I glare at Killian as the waitress takes our menus away.
 

“What was that?”
 

“What?” he asks innocently.
 

“Why did you order for me? And why did you order the salmon? I’m not a health nut like you. I wanted the burger.”
 

“Health nut, huh?” He casually leans back in his chair. “I just didn’t want to give you too much to think about right now. I knew you liked the wine, and after the breakfast you had, you need some vegetables and healthy protein to keep you going today.”
 

I shake my head. “You have no idea what I need.”
 

The waitress quickly brings the wine, and I’m at least thankful he ordered my favorite wine. I need to write that down, so I know what to order in the future.
 

I sip as I try to process what just happened, so I’ll know where to start with my questioning. My brain immediately goes to the moment in my father’s office. I literally choked. God, that was so embarrassing. What is surprising though was
his
reaction. When he saw me, he didn’t seem the least bit surprised. Not even the best actor in the world would have been able to hide some sort of reaction of surprise when he saw me. I’ve studied enough actors’ reactions to know a truthful one from a fake one. His was truthful.
 

I deepen my glare. “You already knew who I was. Last night, when you sat down at that blackjack table, you already knew who I was.”
 

“Yes,” he says.

“Why would you do that? Why would you lead me on like that when you already knew? You lied to me! You made me believe I could find someone on my own. Instead, you were prearranged. Did my grandfather put you up to it? Did he want you to seduce me before we met? Did you two think I would be happy then, if I already liked you when I found out it was you?”
 

My face flushes bright red again, but this time, it’s mostly out of anger and only a little bit from embarrassment. Everyone knew, except for me.
 

“I didn’t initially go to the casino, seeking you out, last night. I went there for the same reason as you, I’m guessing. I was mourning a man I deeply cared about, and I thought gambling like I used to with him would be the best way to honor that man.”

“Wait, my father went gambling with you?”
 

“Yes. I worked very closely with your father over the last five years. He was a great mentor to me. When we flew to different cities for meetings, we would gamble at other people’s casinos. It was the best way to learn from the competition. Robert was a great man. I miss him.”

“Don’t,” I say, my voice trembling. “Don’t. You don’t get to miss him. You don’t get to mourn him like I do. He’s not your father.”
 

The guilt immediately comes back. This man spent time with my father when I didn’t. I should have been there for him when he died. I should have gone to college closer to home, so I could have spent more time with him. Instead, I was happy to get as far away as possible when my family suggested Yale.
 

“Oh, princess, I could never miss him like you do, but I still miss him.”
 

I freeze when he says the nickname he has adapted for me…except he didn’t come up with my name. My father did.
 

“You got it from him.”
 

His eyes narrow in response, but he has no clue what I’m talking about.
 

“You got the princess thing from my father. That’s all he ever called me. I’m sure if you hung out so much together, you heard him talk about me in that manner. Don’t call me princess—ever again.”
 

He looks sad when I say that, but I can’t deal with this. I can’t deal with the fact that he got to spend so much time with my father in his final years while I was away at school and got so little time. My life is not fair.
 

I feel the tears welling in my eyes, but I don’t let them out. Killian doesn’t deserve any of my tears. He doesn’t deserve to see me mourn a man who was mine, not his.
 

The waitress places our appetizer in front of us. It looks disgusting. A mush of stuff sits in the middle with raw carrots, cucumbers, and celeries lining the outside. I don’t touch it. Instead, I lift the wine glass back to my lips.
 

I have so many questions. I don’t even know where to start. So, I just sit and watch as Killian fills a plate with hummus and vegetables. Then, to my surprise, he places the plate in front of me before filling another one.
 

“Eat,” he says.
 

My stomach grumbles, so I do, but it’s not because he tells me to. I try the carrot in the mush. It’s not half bad, I realize, as I crunch on the vegetable, but I’m not going to let him know that.
 

“Ask me,” he says before taking a bite of his food.
 

“What?”
 

“Ask me everything.”
 

“When did you find out?” I ask hesitantly.
 

“When did I find out that your father wanted me to marry you before he would make me CEO?”
 

I nod, unable to say any words.
 

“Three years ago. It was when he promoted me to VP.”

My eyes are wide. He’s known for three years that he is going to marry me. He could have come up to me at any point in those three years and told me. He could have at least introduced himself to me. He could have done anything, but he didn’t.
 

“Why didn’t you tell me?”
 

He runs his hand through his hair, slightly messing it up, but somehow, it looks even better. “I wanted to. I learned a lot about you from your father. I stalked you on social media. I quickly realized that your father was right. You weren’t ready to meet me. You were too young and naive to meet whom you were supposed to marry. You’re still too young.”
 

“I am not!” I protest.
 

He smiles a smug smile. “Yes, you are.”

“Then, why did you agree to marry me if I’m so young and naive?”
 

“I haven’t yet.”
 

My eyes grow wide at his response.
 

“What do you mean, you haven’t yet? I thought…”

“I told your father I would think about it, but I’ve never really had any intention of marrying anybody—ever. I’m perfectly content as I am.”

“Then, why are you here? If you are not going to marry me, why are you here?”
 

He looks smugly past me as he contemplates his answer. “Because I want to be CEO. I’ve earned it. And I’ll marry you, if I have to, to get it, but I think there is another way, a better way.”
 

His words sting. It stings a lot to hear him say that he doesn’t want to marry me even though I don’t really want to marry him either. It still hurts though to hear a man who I thought at least found me attractive wouldn’t even consider marrying me.
 

“What was last night then? Why did you almost sleep with me if you didn’t want to marry me?”

He cocks his head and smirks at me. “I can fuck women without marrying them. And, if I recall, we never got around to the fucking.”

I wince every time he says the word
fuck
. I’m not used to men using language like that around me. Although it usually sounds sexy when falling from his lips, right now, it feels like a punch to the gut.
 

“Why were you at the casino last night?” I barely whisper.
 

“Like I said earlier, I didn’t go into that casino, seeking you out. Then, I saw you at that table, and I thought it would be fun to mess with you. After watching you for a while, I found that you were almost a complete contradiction from everything that I had known about you. You seemed confident at that table, sure of yourself. You didn’t seem like the naive young girl I’d thought you were.”
 

“And now?”
 

He sighs. “I still think you are a naive young princess.”
 

I glare at him when he says the last word. “You’re wrong.”
 

The waitress interrupts us, bringing us plates of salmon with asparagus. I lift my fork and dig in, just needing my hands to do something. Otherwise, I might just do something stupid, like climb over the table and ring Killian’s neck.
 

“I know that you went to Yale to study theater. Who does that? You don’t go to Yale to study theater. You go to Yale to study business or economics or finance—something useful. It just goes to show that your father paid your way in, and you could only make it as a theater major.”
 

He pauses to take a bite while I continue shoving my own food in my mouth, trying my best to remain calm and poised, like I’ve been taught to do.
 

“I know that you modeled for
Seventeen
magazine along with a slew of other teenage magazines. You’re beautiful, but you don’t have the look to do anything for more mature clientele.”
 

I take another bite. I feel the tears welling again, but I hold them back.
Do not cry.
 

“I know that you haven’t been on a date in three years. That’s why you needed a release last night. I know that you have never made one goddamn decision by yourself. You want to know how I know that? You texted your father every five fucking minutes, asking him for advice.”
 

A tear falls, just one single tear.
 

“I know because you are the reason that this has gotten this far. If you had stood up to your father before he died, you wouldn’t be getting forced into a marriage you didn’t want. And don’t tell me that you do want this. I know what you were running from last night. It’s this. You were running away from being forced into an arranged marriage!”

I wipe the tear from my eye. “Stop!” I say a little too loudly. I notice the stares from the table closest to us, and I try to adjust my voice to not bring any more attention to us. “Well, you were running, too! I don’t have to have studied everything about you for three years to know everything I need to know about you. You’re an arrogant, bossy ass. Everything in your life revolves around work. You don’t date because you don’t have any time to. You just find any woman you can at strange bars to pick up and take home for one night. And, worst of all, you must not be that good at your job if the only way you can get the CEO position you are so desperate for is to marry the previous CEO’s daughter. And the only reason they chose you and not someone more qualified is because you are the only man in an executive position who’s anywhere near my age,” I say, having no idea where those words came from. I’ve never been this outspoken in my entire life.