The helplessness and worry I read in her gaze is the polar opposite of the fierce determination I’ve seen shining from her translucent green eyes.
“I admit, the timeline is short,” I say.
“Ridiculously short.” Her gaze is filled with anguish.
I nod.
“Is that even enough time?” She worries her lower lip. “Doesn’t it take a year to organize a wedding? Six months at least?”
“So many of our hotels offer wedding services. It’s a matter of pulling together a few key individuals to make it happen in a flash. As for the venue, we’ll get married at Dad’s mansion.”
Wide eyes stare at me in disbelief.
“My life changes in four days.” There’s no way to miss the resignation underlying her words.
I stand up, round the coffee table, take a seat next to her on the sofa, and place a hand over her trembling ones.
“I know I’m pushing hard,” I say. “I thought I had everyone convinced of ourlove story, but after this morning’s early meeting with the board, I have to press on the accelerator. One board member in particular isn’t buying it. Truth be told, the guy hates me. He’s cracking the whip for the board to find a replacement for my father. If the board isn’t slowing down their mission, neither can I.”
“I understand.” She nods. “This is what I agreed to.”
Over a copious breakfast we shared the basics—family history, where we went to school, favorite color, hobbies, likes, dislikes, allergies—none for either of us—and the list goes on. Since we shared so many important details when we were on the yacht, we have enough to cover our tracks. With time, we’ll fill in the blanks.
Now, we move onto the more contentious points. I reach inside my jacket for an envelope and hand it to her.
“What’s this?”
“The contract.”
“I see.” She unfolds it.
Her eyes bounce from one line to another as she takes in all the clauses. “Do you have a pen?”
I reach inside my jacket and produce my Montblanc pen.
“Thanks.” She grabs it. “I’m not changing myname.” She crosses out the clause. “Earlier, you hung up before I could contest.”
This woman…
She scans past her monthly cash allowance––fifty thousand dollars. She skips over the clause giving her a chauffeur on demandandthe car of her choice. She bypasses the clause that allows her to keep her diamond ring. And it’s like she glosses over the terms of our divorce that guarantees the Villiers Grand Hotel will be hers free and clear three hundred sixty-five days from our wedding day. Michaela Knight Villiers goes straight for the clause about the last name.
My obstinate queen.
“You’re the only woman in the world who would have an issue changing her name to Mrs.König.”
“Why bother going through the hassle of changing my name for one year?” She lifts a stubborn chin. “Not to mention, I don’t want to lose that connection with my mom.” Emotions coat those last words.
“In terms of the hassle, I have people to take care of that,” I say. “You won’t have to chase after documents. That’s their job. Yours will be to sign a few documents. Once we get divorced, I’ll get my team to take care of the paperwork to revert your name.”
Her shoulders slump.
I sigh. “I understand and respect your desire to keep your mother’s last name. What if we compromise on Mrs.Michaela Kennedy König Knight Villiers? It’s a bit regal, but you can pull it off. It ensures you won’t lose your name on any official paper and Mrs.König won’t sound foreign to your ear.”
She studies me for a long beat.
I arch a brow.
“I can live with that.”
