“Name your price, then.”
“You can’t afford the cost of peace, and even if I was interested—and I’m totally not—why can’t we fake the photos and craft memories by visiting your family?”
“My family and I are not on the best of terms at this moment,” he said. “You know that.”
“Well, that sounds like a personal problem.” I held back a sigh. “Whatever issues you have with your family?—”
“Issues. Plural.”
“Yes, well, whatever those are, I can guarantee they’re not as bad as you think. Plus, I literally just sent mine an email about how awful you are.”
“That can easily be explained away,” he said. “We don’t have to stay long. We can meet them all at cafés if you like.”
Spoken like someone who totally doesn’t have a family.“What part of ‘no’ aren’t you understanding?”
“The part where I’m asking you very nicely.”
“Well, well, well!” A man in an Easter-blue suit walked into the office. “I was just looking for you, Mr. Saint!”
“Who the hell are you?”
“A man who was told you have impeccable manners, so I’ll let this slight bit of rudeness slide.” He smiled. “I’m Jeremiah Reaves from the firm handling your inheritance payout.”
“My apologies.” Nicholas extended his hand. “We were just having a private conversation.”
“Understandable.” He smiled. “I’ve heard I have a tendency to pop up when I’m least expected, so no harm, no foul. Who is this beautiful woman exactly?”
“My soon-to-be wife,” Nicholas said before I could speak. “Jenna—Almost-Saint.”
“Ahhh. Mr. Marshall mentioned you were more gorgeous in person, and that is true. Nice to meet you, Mrs. Almost-Saint.” He extended his hand, and I hoped he couldn’t feel how hot it was from my boiling blood.
Marshall just assumed I would be okay with this?
“Well, there’s been a scheduling issue,” he said. “So I’m here early to do my due diligence on your marriage.”
“No, no, no.” Nicholas shook his head. “I was told the agent would be someone else—someone blind with a cane.”
“You mean Mr. Harrison.”
“Yes, him. I’d rather work with him.”
“Well, he’s no longer available. He’s going sightseeing in Paris.”
“Without eyes?”
“However you want to put it, you’re stuck with me now.” He patted Nicholas’s shoulder.
“Your contract says I’m entitled to take at least four trips with you. I figure one big holiday trip can compensate for all four.”
Nicholas and I exchanged glances.
“You are going somewhere for the holidays, correct?” Mr. Reaves asked.
“Given the fact that Mr. Marshall told me you’re getting married before the end of the year, I’m assuming family will be involved?”
“No, we’re just staying here in New York.”
“Yeah, we’ll just be here.”
