Willa and I weren’t blood-related. In fact, most of our family wasn’t. But we’d all been raised as one giant extended family. And especially for the past few years, we’d been watching our cousins fall in love and settle down. Even the most anti-love among us.
“I know. The thing is… theyrememberit. I don’t. And now Harrison won’t sign the annulment papers I had drafted up.”
“I was going to ask if you wanted my lawyer’s number. I guess you have it covered. So, his name is Harrison.”
“Yeah. Harrison Valentine.”
Willa sputtered, mocha latte spreading across her pristine white marble waterfall island.
“What?” she asked, automatically reaching for the surface cleaner and a paper towel. “Did you just say Harrison Valentine?”
“Yeah. You know of him?”
“I know him. I mean, not know-know him. But I’ve done business with him.”
Willa was the daughter of an incredibly successful businesswoman. But being who she was, Willa refused to let her mother’s success define her. She’d been busting her ass to make her own name since she graduated college.
Her gorgeous house was evidence of that success. Sprawling, modern, eye-wateringly expensive.
She rubbed shoulders with all the other upper echelon. Of course she knew Harrison.
“He might be one of the most gorgeous men I’ve ever seen up close,” Willa said as she reached down to undo the clasps on her shoes, then kicked them off.
“Yeah,” I agreed. I know I’d sworn off alcohol, but this was the kind of conversation that could use a drink.
“Wait. Do you have any idea how wealthy he is?”
“Well, if this is real,” I said, shoving my hand out at her, “then I think I have some idea.”
Willa took my hand, turning it around so the ring caught the light.
“I’m sure it’s real. And whatever you are assuming it is worth, double it. That’s a flawless diamond. And, trust me, Harrison Valentine wouldn’t even raise a brow at the cost.”
“He upgraded me from a middle economy to a first-class seat too.”
“I feel like, by your tone, I’m supposed to be saying ‘that bastard,’ but I can’t for the life of me figure out why that is a bad thing.”
“It was actually kind of nice. Especially because I was stuck between two unhappy babies, with a hangover. I’m just mad at him about the whole not signing the paperwork thing.”
“Did he say why?”
“Not really, no. Just that he didn’t want to.”
“Is he worried about his money?”
“That’s what the lawyer figured too. But I made him draft up the paperwork saying I wanted nothing from him. I told him that. He still wouldn’t sign it.”
“Maybe he’s just, you know, embarrassed. A guy like him, he’s probably used to always being in control: of his work, of his personal life. And I can see how it’s embarrassing to realize you accidentally got married in Vegas. He could just need a day or two to process things.”
“I wish it was that simple. But he didn’t seem the least bit embarrassed. If anything, he was just very calm and composed and, I don’t know, certain. Like he fully accepted this marriage.”
“Hmm. Well, did he say anything on the flight?”
“Not really. Just telling me that he ordered me food and a car when we got there. I slept, though.”
Or pretended to sleep.
“Maybe you should just give it a couple of days, then go back to see him when you’re calm and he’s had time to really think about the situation. And maybe get reamed out by his lawyers.”
