“God, he was a dick,” she mutters, making me chuckle.
Mr. Cohen smiles. “He was one of my more eccentric clients, that’s for sure.”
“That’s one way to describe him,” I say.
Rain turns to me. “Be real with me. Is the bike worth it? Marrying me, I mean.”
I shake my head. “It’s not about the bike for me. It’s about honoring your dad and making sure you get what’s rightfully yours. If you don’t want to go through with this, that’s fine. No skin off my back.”
“You seriously don’t care about the bike?” she asks, bewilderment in her voice.
“I mean, the bike is awesome, and I would love to have it, but I don’t want it so bad I would force you into doing something you are clearly uncomfortable with.”
Rain studies me for a few moments, judging my sincerity.
“You would go through with this just to make sure I get everything? Marrying me, I mean. Three years is a long time. We aren’t exactly friends.”
“Yes,” I tell her plainly.
It’s not like it would be a hardship. Not for me, at least.
She mulls it over. “Can we go somewhere and talk about this?”
“Of course.”
“Remember, you only have three weeks to decide now,” the lawyer adds.
“Yeah, I got that part,” Rain sasses at him before leaving the office.
“I’ll let you know when she’s made a decision,” I tell him, following her out of the office.
This is my one shot. I need to convince her.
Otherwise, I will have failed Mustang altogether.
CHAPTER
SIX
Rain
Walking awayfrom the lawyer’s office, I cross the road to the park. I know Ridge is behind me. He would never let me walk away on my own, always keeping an eye on me like my father always wanted.
Maybe that’s where some of my resentment comes from toward him. Sure, he turned me down when I hit on him in my teens, but had he disappeared or I never had to see him, I could have gotten over that.
Instead, my father kept bringing him around. He was always there with his arrogant attitude. He always acted like he knew better than me because he is older. I know my dad asked him to look out for me, which caused me a lot of headaches when I would sneak out to parties. He would embarrass me by coming to find me and dragging me back home.
What turned into mild annoyance grew into hate.
Now I have to marry this man or lose everything.
Taking a deep breath, I settle on a bench. When Ridge doesn’t sit, I pat the seat.
“I won’t bite you,” I promise him.
He glares at me. “The scar on my forearm says differently.”
I snort. When I was seventeen, he grabbed me to pull me out of a party. I was angry and sank my teeth into him. What’s impressive is that I drew blood, and he didn’t once waver. He still managed to get me back to his borrowed car before strapping me in.
