She’ll obey.
There is one troublesome comment regarding her mother and how she’s expected to be accepted to stay with her daughter, because they’re so close. But she’s the best of the three and I’m good at dealing with problems.
And yes, this mother is a problem.
“Looks like you’re in luck, pops.”
“The spicy redhead named Ivy?” he asks.
Glaring at him, I say, “Did you narrow down the list before it came to me?”
He shrugs. “One can’t be too careful with who they share their genes with.”
I hit the connect button, and a box pops up, asking if I’d like to send a message to Ivy.
Yes.
I type out a brutally honest message and hit send.
A list of times pop up, allowing me to set up a video chat with my selected bride-to-be. I click tonight, 5 p.m., then gather as much information about Ivy as I can and forward it to Lance O’Connor, a guy I use for PI purposes, following it up with an email:
Find out everything you can about this woman ASAP.
THREE
Ivy
Just a little tighter.
“This is absolutely disgusting!” I snarl. “I’m not going to land a husband by showing camel toe!”
“Jesus, Ivy—have I taught you nothing? Men are visual creatures, and the older they get, the more it takes to entice them.”
“I’m getting out of this fucking leotard.”
“Stop acting like a petulant child!”
“We’ve been at this for two hours. If I haven’t taken an acceptable picture yet, it’s not going to happen.” I grab a towel and wipe the sweat from my forehead.
She rolls her eyes and mumbles, “Why the hell hasn’t Miss May gotten back to us?”
We were told up front that this process could take months, but of course, my mother sees the passage of time as an indication that I’m somehow flawed.
“Maybe we need to take a trip and have you photographed surrounded by elegance…” Her words trail off as she thinks over the details.
“The men looking at my profile will know I’m not rich, and they’ll find it suspicious if I’m surrounded by luxury. They could even question my…purity, as you so disgustingly call it.”
She nods. “Right, right. It’s a good thing you’re so smart. You could rise high within the ranks, achieving a status I couldn’t.”
I’ve told her time and time again that this is a one and done, but she refuses to believe me. But the truth is, it could be out of my control.
Hopefully, the man I marry will leave me enough for me and our child to get by after the Sisters take their cut, which will be half. But if there are any surprises with the estate, freedom might be beyond my reach, and I could end up like my mom.
Another dark thought crosses my mind. One that seems all but unfathomable.
“Momma, what if the guy that picks me is actually…a good guy?” I ask nervously.
She chuckles darkly. “A man in the age bracket we picked who desires to marry a nineteen-year-old virgin is not a good man. Quite the opposite.”
