I had a plan.
Kind of.
“We pretended we were engaged.”
And that was when the topic of conversation changed to sport.
* * *
The mojito that the bartender had carefully made wasn’t even touched when a not so gentle hand landed on my shoulder. It was almost midnight. The witching hour. My powers were in full throttle and I was up for taking no prisoners.
“We should talk.”
The words were ominous no matter who said them.
“We should, but not necessarily now.” I held up my drink. “We’re not having a serious conversation during or after alcohol.”
I actually got a smile from him for that.
“Ten minutes.”
I shrugged. I was past the point of caring. “Five. Less would be preferable.”
He sat down next to me.
“I spoke to the agent again this evening.”
“Did you manage to abate his confusion?” I stirred the ice cubes around in my drink.
“Probably not. He now thinks we have a role play thing going on where we pretend not to know each other.”
“I’d much prefer that to be what actually happens rather than just role play, but go on.”
He shook his head. “Ms Egalldottir will definitely only sell to a married couple. She’s already turned down an offer that was bigger than I was going to make because the buyer wasn’t married.”
I sighed, rather dramatically it had to be said. “I’m pretty sure my ex-husband will agree to a re-marriage.” I gave him a sweet smile. There was actually no chance at all that Graham would ever be allowed in the same room as me if his wife-to-be had a say in the matter. Which she did.
The look on Liam’s face was priceless.
“I was about to suggest a deal.”
“I don’t deal with incarnations of Satan.”
He exhaled sharply and looked away. “Just for a moment will you listen instead of trying to tear me a new arsehole?”
“Go ahead. You can have valuable seconds of my time.”
“The property is perfect for a recording studio. But what I need it for won’t use all of the space, especially as I’ll probably build a bespoke place in the grounds. We could buy the place and grounds as tenants in common. You know…”
“I know what tenants in common means. I’ve worked in business for twenty years.” I closed my mouth. I knew full well I wouldn’t be able to outbid him. I also knew that the chances of finding someone sensible to marry before him were slim. This idea he was about to propose – I could give a pretty good guess what it was going to be – was one way of getting what I wanted, and wanted all the more because I was going to have to fight for it.
“What do you think?”
I blinked. Slowly. “You seriously think we can pull off the pretending to a couple part? And planning a wedding? Without killing each other. I think it’s a ridiculous idea.”
“But you get whatever you want to use the building for. Maybe with shared accommodation for my artists and your clients.” He said the words as if there was no question about it and this wasn’t a stupid idea.
“We’ll kill each other.”
