“The thing is, I’d need to convince Dr. Ezzie I’m her other option for a buyout,” I say. “I’ll also need to find a new vet doc to partner with. I can’t run the clinic without doctors.”
“Sure.” Brady looks out across the blue-grey water, his eyes sharp. “We’d just need a contract outlining the terms.”
A contract. Yikes.
So official.
But maybe that’s exactly what we need to keep this from getting too stupid.
It’s not that I necessarily think Brady will take advantage of me. Not intentionally. Not deliberately.
But I do think this situation is delicate and requires rules engraved in legalese.
“The contract would state I’ll relinquish my right to continue our arrangement after one year,” he continues.
“A whole year? Holy shitballs.” I stand with my hands on my hips, legs splayed.
Yeah, it’s a power pose. I once read about them helping in social situations, but today it helps keepmefrom feeling like I’m helpless here.
Even while I’m giving up my soul.
From the way Brady looks at me, it’s working. Orsomethingis working for him.
“It has to look authentic,” he says.
“A whole year of my life. Awesome.”
“This has to work for me too,” he says gruffly. “A one-year gig for a million dollars up front—that’s more than fair, Sass.” He stands loosely yet firmly, a statue carved in raw emotion.
I hate that it looks so good on him.
Then again, he’s got the jawline and the soul-stripping eyes that look good with everything.
“One year,” I muse. “I think I can handle that.”
For Pawsome Hearts, I will. Really, what’s one measly year of my life when it could keep the clinic alive?
It might even give us a fighting chance to revive its former glory. Dr. Ezzie had the love but not the energy. If new people come in with passion and heart, there’s no telling how we could turn it around.
“So, let’s hear it. What am I in for?” I ask.
“Your obligations, you mean?” He stops to think. I do my best not to notice the sharp way his gaze flicks across the water, watching ahuge cargo ship pass by. “We’ll need to make some public appearances. Mandatory and tightly controlled, especially early on. We’ll want the shit-stirrers and local media to see us on our own terms.”
Sensible. Unfortunately.
I breathe through stabbing anxiety.
The attention can’t be much worse than the current mess, and this time I’ll know it’s coming.
“You’ll have to meet my parents too,” he says carefully. “I’ll keep them the hell away as much as possible, but to really sell it on my end, you’ll have to play girlfriend.” He pauses, and his eyes lock on mine. “At some point, we’ll probably have to be engaged.”
Engaged.
Deep breath, Lena.
I don’t know how I ignore the sheer panic ripping through me, but somehow I manage not to freak.
This is what high-paid fakery involves. And if I want to save Pawsome Hearts, I need to commit now.
