When I die, I’ll know I’m leaving a small, living piece of myself behind.
I grab the copy ofLittle Womenoff the shelf. I think I'll buy it and hold onto it, for the day when I find the right little girl to give it to.
My phone buzzes. A text from my father.
Victor Matthews
The contract signing is tomorrow. Don't be late.
Tomorrow. In twenty-four hours, I'll be engaged to a man I've met exactly once.
I hope I'm not making the biggest mistake of my life.
3
JAMES
“Well, let’s get this done,” Victor says, sliding into a chair in my personal conference room. “Where do I sign?”
It’s a familiar sight, the impatient executive ready to finish with the formalities. It adds an air of normalcy to what would otherwise feel like a surreal meeting.
On my side of the conference table, I’m flanked by two men. Rudy, the head of Sequel’s legal team, sits at my left side, ready to consult on any last minute changes about the collaboration between Pages and Sequel. On my right is Jack Archer, my personal lawyer. If you didn’t know better, this would look like any other merger.
Jack clears his throat. “Before we get started, I’d like to walk through the most pertinent details a final time.”
Victor grunts, crossing his arms and looking bored. His obvious displeasure doesn’t phase Jack, who puts on a pair of reading glasses and opens his copy of the contract.
“If you go to page three, you’ll find the timeline for the heir clause,” he says. We all turn to the page, reading along, even though I’ve got it practically memorized by now. “After Miss Matthews and Mr. Keller are wed, they will begin attempts toconceive an heir. If after six months they are not successful, they will seek medical intervention. If an heir is not conceived by a year, then both contracts—the marriage contract and the business contract—will be null and void. Is that still agreed to by both parties?”
Victor and I both nod, and Jack gives us a cool glance.
“I’ll need your verbal consent.”
My “yes” is quickly followed by Victor’s. It doesn’t escape me how eerily similar this feels to wedding vows.
Jack flips forward several pages. “If we move to page eleven, I’d like to point to the new addition to the Nondisclosure Agreement. If the nature of this marriage contract becomes public, whichever party responsible for the leak will be liable to a fine of $100 million.”
For the first time, Victor looks engaged, his eyes narrowing. “$100 million? That’s extortion!”
“After consultation with both of your public relations teams, they agreed that the payment would need to be high enough to cause significant damage, and considering both of your net worths, this is the number they arrived at.”
Victor turns on his lawyer. “Why didn’t you tell me this?”
“I did!” his lawyer squeaks. The man is thin and tall, even taller than me, but he still cowers under Victor’s red-faced fury. “I mentioned it, sir.”
“Surely, you understand the risk if news of this contract leaks,” Jack says coolly. “It would cause irreparable damage to the reputations of both your companies. Even though your daughter is fully onboard with the agreement, even the hint of a forced pregnancy could cost you even more than the fine. This is just a precaution.”
Victor turns back to his slumping lawyer. “And you think this is smart?”
“Yes, sir,” he squeaks. “We all did. The entire legal team.”
Victor settles back into his chair and sighs. “Well, I guess that’s what I pay you for. Fine. Keep the damn clause. We won’t be breaking it on my side.”
“Good,” Jack says. “Miss Matthews has already signed the paperwork for the marriage contract. Mr. Matthews, you’re next.”
He slides the contract over the table, along with a Montblanc pen. Victor grabs it and starts turning through the pages, initialing at his flags. While he’s busy, Jack turns to me.
“Can I speak to you for a moment, in your office?” he murmurs.
