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Page 6


  “I don’t think so. I left a few windows open, so it should be okay by the time we get back.”

  Marianne guided her daughter toward the counter, where they ordered two large slices of cheese pizza and two sodas, then took a seat in a booth. The red plastic seats groaned beneath them as they scooted in. Zoe dangled the massive slice between her two little hands and bit off the end.

  “Mmm, I love pizza,” she said, her voice muffled.

  “Chew and swallow, then talk,” Marianne reminded her.

  Zoe did as she was told, took a sip of her soda, and then cast a serious gaze on her mother.

  “Why are you being so weird?” she asked.

  “I’m not. People have accidents all the time,” Marianne said, dodging.

  Zoe was having none of it. She was terribly perceptive for a six-year-old. In this instance, Marianne had no desire to face her inquisition.

  “You never burn dinner. You’ve had a weird look on your face since you got home, like you’re not even really here. I like to daydream about being in, like, a fairytale forest or a princess castle, sometimes. Is that what you’re doing?”

  Marianne considered very carefully what she would say next. Without a decision made, there was nothing she could say, and she didn’t want to worry Zoe with problems of the adult variety.

  “There’s a man at work that hasn’t been very nice,” Marianne hedged.

  How to explain her thoughts in terms a child would understand…now that was the tricky part.

  “Did he stick his tongue out at you? Isiah did that to me the other day. I just stuck mine out at him, but then the teacher said we both had to apologize.”

  Marianne suppressed a grin. She loved Zoe’s mind, her heart, and her courage. She was a force to be reckoned with, but at her core, she wanted to be good and help others.

  She was so proud of her daughter.

  “No, he didn’t do that. It’s a little complicated,” Marianne said.

  “Well, if it’s bothering you, you should talk about it. Isn’t that what you tell me?”

  “Yes, it is,” Marianne said.

  She considered her words again before speaking, using her pizza as an excuse to stop talking. She took a bite, and the melted cheese and fresh tomato sauce combo soothed her hungry belly.

  “I have a choice to make, and if I make the wrong one, I don’t know what will happen,” Marianne said.

  Zoe considered that as she finished her pizza.

  “I think you should do it.”

  Marianne did grin this time.

  “You don’t even know what it is!”

  “Well, Grandma always tells me that the worst thing in life is to have regrets. I think you only have them when you don’t do stuff, so you have to do all the stuff and then you won’t regret it.”

  Hard to argue with that logic.

  Marianne nodded at her daughter’s sage advice.

  “Perhaps you’re right. Either way, I’ll try and not burn the next meal I cook.”

  “That would be great, but if we have to have pizza again, I don’t mind,” Zoe said.

  Marianne took the last bite of her own slice, and together they slurped on their sodas as they walked back home, the streetlights flashing on as the sky darkened above them.

  When they stepped back inside the apartment, the smell of burning was faint.

  “Go brush your teeth and get ready for bed. I’ll be there in a minute.”

  Zoe yawned, and, to Marianne’s surprise, did as asked without a single protest. As the bathroom faucet turned on, Marianne plucked the pan from the stovetop and scraped the burnt remains of dinner into the trash. She set the pan to soak and washed a few other dishes before heading down the hall to Zoe’s room.

  Zoe sat in the corner, on her beanbag, playing with a few of her stuffed animals.

  “Mom, Monkey and Kitty want to have a sleepover.”

  “Great. Why don’t you bring them over to your bed,” Marianne said.

  Zoe nodded and carefully wrapped each toy in a blanket before bringing them over to her bed. She nestled beneath her blanket, taking care to provide enough coverage for her little friends as well.

  “Okay, we’re ready for a story,” she said.

  Marianne pulled out one of Zoe’s favorite books and read the story, making sure that she showed Monkey and Kitty all the pictures as well. By the time she reached the end, Zoe had slid deeper into her blankets, her eyelids hooded.

  “Good night, little love,” Marianne said.

  “Good night, Mama,” Zoe said.

  Marianne kissed her head and turned out the light, shutting the door behind her. Her hand rested on the knob as she considered what to do next.

  There were always chores. Something needed to be cleaned at all times in her house. Perhaps that could serve as a distraction, tire her out enough to finally rest her weary mind. Marianne pulled a hair tie off her wrist and swept her hair up into a messy bun, then set to work cleaning the kitchen. She lit a scented candle to help with the smell, and put on some gentle music to distract her mind.

  It was no use. Every few minutes, Jay’s face would pop into her mind’s eye, his question dancing along her thoughts.

  Marriage.

  It was something Marianne had thought about, of course. When Zoe’s dad was still with her, they’d had so much fun together. She’d always imagined that marriage would be like that—full of laughter and love. Meaningful conversations. Someone to rely on.

  Oh, to have someone to rely on!

  Marianne’s shoulders slumped as she considered just how long it had been since she’d had that. She kept so much information to herself, so many burdens that she quietly carried alone. She protected her mother and Zoe with a quiet fortitude that sometimes made her want to scream.

  And here was a man willing to help, but at a price. As a business deal. That wasn’t the kind of marriage Marianne wanted. That wasn’t a life she wanted for her child.

  And yet…

  “Ugh,” Marianne said to herself.

  She tossed a rag onto the kitchen table, glancing around. The house was spotless, the scent of burning completely eradicated thanks to cleaning spray and the candle. When she glanced at the clock, she realized that it was already late enough to go to bed, and decided to do so.

  Maybe a good night’s sleep was the answer.

  He did tell her she could take her time, but something in his tone belied that. If the government really was after him and considering deportation, she imagined he didn’t have as much time as he let on.

  Marianne flicked on the bathroom light and stared at her reflection in the mirror. There were no answers in her confused and conflicted gaze, so she washed her face, brushed her teeth, and made quick work of changing into pajamas before she slid beneath her own blankets and stared up into the darkness.

  Jay Parish was the reason for all of her woes. That couldn’t be argued. Also, what on earth would her mother say if she told her the man had proposed, but it was entirely impersonal and really just a means to an end? And what right did he have to buy his way out of his current bind? She certainly couldn’t afford to do the same.

  Perhaps what Jay needed was a good, old fashioned kick in the pants. He could go back to wherever he was from and think about what he’d done to all those poor elderly people.

  But he was thinking about it, wasn’t he?

  Was she cutting off her nose to spite her face, having such thoughts about the man? Sure, he was the bane of their existence, and she despised him on every level, but he was offering her a chance to change their lives for the better, forever.

  To never have to worry about money, ever again…

  She considered all the wonderful things she could do for Zoe. They could go on vacations! Zoe had never even left the state of Texas. She was such a curious child who loved to learn; she would adore seeing and experiencing new places and cultures.

  Jay Parish was offering her the world, and the potential price was her soul. Bu
t for Zoe, Marianne would give her soul twice over.

  She sat up and reached for her purse on the floor, tugging Jay’s card from her wallet. She reached for her phone and dialed the cell number, uncaring of how late it was. If she didn’t do this now, she may never find the courage.

  Her belly tightened with nerves as the phone rang twice, and then Jay answered.

  “I was hoping it would be you,” he said without preamble.

  “How do you know who it is?” Marianne asked.

  “I had your number saved in my phone, just in case.”

  An odd little feeling passed through Marianne at that statement, and, to her horror, it wasn’t entirely unpleasant.

  “Oh,” she said.

  Her courage wavered as a silence stretched between them.

  “I would talk, but I believe at this juncture, the ball is entirely in your court,” he said.

  “Yes, right,” she said. She cleared her throat. “I just wanted to call to say that I am willing to accept your offer, Mr. Parish. I will do it on one condition.”

  “And that is?” he asked.

  “I have a daughter. She’s six years old and she means the world to me. I don’t want her getting caught up in this. I want this to happen without involving her in any way.”

  “That’s easy enough. Consider it done,” he said.

  The relief in his voice was palpable.

  “Good,” she said. Her voice wavered, revealing her nerves.

  “Of course, I want to emphasize that this relationship is only an act, Marianne. There’s no need to overcomplicate it in any way. If you would like, consider it as an acting role, and I’ll simply be funding you for your work in a production of sorts.”

  “That is one way to think of a marriage,” she said.

  “Life is a stage, and we are all but players, right?”

  He knew his Shakespeare. She grinned.

  “Careful. I know Romeo and Juliet by heart.”

  He chuckled.

  “Well, then. I will try and provide an opportunity for a balcony scene before this is all over.”

  All over.

  “Are we really doing this?” she breathed.

  “I certainly hope so,” he said. “My stability and that of the entire company depends upon it. You should know that by helping me, you are also helping every employee of Brunscorp. It would be quite the shakeup to have the CEO tossed out of the country, and I think you and I can both agree that we’ve had enough shakeups already.”

  “Yes, we can agree on that,” Marianne said, thinking of her mother.

  “All right. Would you be available this weekend for our first ‘date?’”

  “I would,” she agreed.

  The sooner they got this over with, the sooner the Lawson women would be financially free to do whatever they pleased.

  “Great. I’ll get something set up and will be in touch with the details,” he said.

  “Sounds good,” Marianne said.

  Another pause.

  “Well, if there’s nothing else…” Jay said, trailing off.

  “Are you going to sleep soon?” she asked.

  She had no idea what had possessed her to say that. What Jay Parish did in his personal time was his own business, but she couldn’t help but be curious.

  He sighed.

  “Not likely. I do what I can to find distractions, but generally, I find myself sleepless most of the time. You?”

  “I’m quite tired, actually,” she said.

  It was true. Now that the decision was made, her body had released the tension it was holding and her mind grew foggy as her eyelids got heavier.

  “You get some sleep, Marianne. I’ll talk to you soon.”

  “Okay,” she yawned.

  “And Marianne?” he asked.

  She waited.

  “Thank you.”

  She hesitated, then said, “You’re welcome. Goodbye…Jay.”

  She ended the call, set her phone on the table, and rolled over. Her last waking thought was a curious one.

  What would it be like to be the wife of Jay Parish?

  Chapter 8

  Marianne

  Marianne gently pressed on the skin below her eyes with her fingertips as she perused her reflection in the bathroom mirror.

  She was going to need a little work.

  Not that it mattered. The past few days had been busy and hectic as ever, which had helped occupy Marianne’s mind during the day, but at night…

  Well. There was nothing for it.

  She’d barely slept since her last phone call to Jay. So many times, she had picked up her phone and typed out the message. The one where she told him she couldn’t do it. The one where she had to back out of this crazy arrangement.

  Then she deleted it every time.

  Marianne squared her shoulders and met her gaze in the mirror. Somewhere in there, a woman with guts and determination would help her get through this whole wild situation. She had to focus on the end game here—financial stability for her family. End game.

  Definitely not about how, for the past few nights, she’d had feverish dreams of being in Jay’s strong embrace.

  Clearly, her subconscious wanted to equate their marriage with something romantic, and she fought back with everything she had. She was an actor in a play, and this was nothing but a part.

  The part of a lifetime.

  “Marianne, how’s it going in there? Zoe and I want to see!” Elaine called from the living room.

  Marianne unzipped her makeup bag and got to work on her face, choosing a modest neutral palate that she was most comfortable applying.

  “I’ll come out when I’m good and ready to come out!” she called back.

  “Oooh, there’s that sass I remember,” Elaine said with a laugh.

  The sound of Elaine and Zoe chatting over the television was a comfort as Marianne fought with the growing bundle of nerves in her belly. She applied some lipstick and then set to curling her hair in an upswept style.

  Jay had texted her a few days ago that he would pick her up at five on Saturday. Somehow, Saturday had seemed to arrive lightning-fast, no matter how much Marianne had willed it not to. Though she’d also found herself feeling excited, too.

  Marianne glowered at herself in the mirror. Her life had been simple before. Uncomplicated. She had two goals in life—to care for her daughter, and to find joy in the everyday. She’d been doing a decent enough job at both of those things until Jay Parish had turned her life upside down.

  Then, he’d flipped it again by asking her to marry him!

  She wished in that moment that she could confide in her mother. She wanted to ask someone if she was making the right decision, or if she was being an absolute fool. She imagined exactly what her mother would say, and bit her lip to keep her secret to herself.

  Her mother would have to find out eventually. She was getting married, after all. Just not yet.

  Not yet.

  Marianne carefully slid out of her shirt and sweatpants and stepped into a sleek black dress. As she pulled the straps over her shoulders, she suddenly felt very exposed.

  When was the last time she’d worn it?

  There was a very strong possibility that the tag was still on, to be honest. Marianne had taken on the role of single mother seven years ago, and from that point on, her uniform had mostly involved jeans and sweatpants, usually with some kind of stain on them.

  Romance in her life had died the day Zoe’s father had left her behind.

  Marianne then stepped into a strappy pair of kitten heels, hoping she’d met the right middle point of comfortable and classy. Her phone beeped, and she checked the screen.

  It was Jay. Her heart fluttered.

  About two minutes away—see you soon.

  She opened the message and tapped out a quick response that she would keep an eye out for him, then she took a breath and exited the bathroom, turning off the light.

  Zoe and Elaine turned and stared at her with
wide eyes. Elaine covered her mouth as her eyes glistened, and Zoe beamed from ear to ear.

  “Mama! You look so beautiful!”

  Marianne’s throat constricted at her daughter’s comment, and she cleared it as she glanced down, her own eyes a tad wetter than before. When she looked back up, she smiled.

  “Thanks. I can clean up all right sometimes,” she said with a glint in her eye.

  Zoe rolled her eyes.

  “You never dress up or put makeup on. Can I put makeup on, too?”

  Elaine patted Zoe’s shoulder.

  “Not tonight, dear. I don’t feel like cleaning up that mess.”

  Zoe grunted in disappointment, and Marianne walked over and wrapped her arms around her daughter.

  “We can have a makeup party tomorrow, okay? Maybe a whole spa day, bath bombs and everything.”

  That did the trick. Zoe turned and wrapped her little arms around Marianne’s neck, and she held her daughter tight, closing her eyes to savor the sensation of pure love.

  Yes. Her motivation was pure, and the deal was above board. This was the right thing to do; she was sure.

  Right?

  Their embrace was interrupted by the sound of a car pulling up to the curb. Zoe ran to the window, and Elaine stood, following close behind. A sleek black car purred as the driver stepped out. He glanced up, saw the three Lawson women, and waved.

  All three of them waved back.

  “Well, this guy spared no expense, did he? Who are you going out with, Marianne?” Elaine asked.

  “Oh, just a guy from work,” Marianne hedged.

  Elaine approached her daughter and placed her hands on her arms, taking her in.

  “You haven’t gone on a date since before Zoe was born, have you?” she asked, her voice quiet.

  Marianne shook her head.

  “No one ever asked.”

  “You never left the house,” Elaine countered.

  Marianne leaned in and hugged her mother, pulling away as she strung her purse around her shoulder.

  “Never had a good reason to. Who could leave such a face?” she said, blowing at kiss at Zoe.

  Zoe feigned catching it and pressed her hand to her heart.

  “Have fun tonight, Mama,” she said. “I’ll miss you.”

 

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