It was supposed to be an ordinary day for Miranda Benson. The alarm clock went off at exactly 5:30 in the morning as it always did, five days a week. She knew that if she looked out the window, the sky above would still be shrouded in gray while the horizon beyond, or what little she could see from the ground floor apartment, would be bathing in shades of purple as the sun struggled to erase the remnants of the night sky.

She padded softly in worn bathroom slippers to the room next to hers. She opened the door and grimaced as the door hinge squeaked. It sounded like a screech in the quiet stillness and she was anxious not to rouse the occupant in the tiny bed.

But she needn’t have worried. Sadie, her 4-year old daughter, was in deep slumber. Miranda gazed at her intently. The reddish-brown hair spread like a curtain of ringlets around her pretty face. Her eyes quivered slightly under the pink hue of closed eyelids as a ghost of a smile fleeted across tiny rosy lips.

Miranda never stopped thanking the gods for Sadie. It took five years for her and James to conceive and 48 hours of intense labor pains before Sadie made an entrance into this world. From the moment the nurse placed Sadie in her arms, Miranda worshipped her. It was that love that propelled Miranda through the endless hospital visits when Sadie was diagnosed with asthmatic bronchitis, the same devotion that made her face the challenges of antibiotics, bronchodilators, anti-inflammatory drugs and pulmonary hygiene techniques to ease her daughter’s discomfort.

The doctor suggested that they move away from the city. Miranda was willing, but James was adamant on staying; business was slow and he couldn’t afford the cost of relocating. As James got more entrenched in business, Miranda was left to fend for Sadie alone. The constant business trips put a strain into their relationship. James admitted feeling helpless around their ailing daughter and, while Miranda took sole responsibility in caring for Sadie, she felt a resentment brewing inside for James, the father who was never around.

Resentment developed into coldness until there was a wall between them so thick that Miranda didn’t know where to even begin mending it. A particularly severe bout of asthma sent her rushing with Sadie to her parents’ home far away from the city. They stayed for a couple of weeks and when they returned, things only progressed from bad to worse between her and James.

He started spending nights at the office, reasoning that it was easier for him to manage the midnight deliveries of electronic equipment for the shop. It didn’t take long for Miranda to hear whispers. He was sleeping with his business partner, a young widow who inherited a small fortune when her husband passed away.

James was furious when she asked for a divorce; then he begged for forgiveness and asked for a second chance. Miranda didn’t know exactly when her marriage had started to fall apart but at that very moment when James was begging her to stay, she knew in her heart it was over.

The divorce was ugly. James wanted sole custody of their daughter, claiming Miranda didn’t have the means to care for her. Miranda threatened to divulge his affair in court. The last two years were hard on Miranda; being a single parent always was. But, seeing her daughter sleeping peacefully, looking so serene and well, she knew she was doing something right.

Working as a secretary at Masterson Conglomerate, Miranda was part of a pool of secretaries that helped the company executives with their clerical needs. She expected her two-year temporary tenure to eventually lead to the job of a private secretary at the main office.

The girls in her department referred to themselves as ladies-in-waiting, always wondering where their next assignment would take them. They had a common dream: to work at H.Q. where all the top executives held office.

Miranda sighed as she stroked her daughter’s cheek. She kissed Sadie on the forehead. “I love you, baby girl,” she whispered tenderly, before returning to her bedroom to change for work. Mrs. Tanner, her next door neighbor, would be knocking any time soon. Miranda was thankful for the elderly lady who volunteered to look after Sadie while she was at work. That, and for the fact that Sadie hadn’t suffered any asthma attacks since moving here.

She kissed Sadie and bid Mrs. Tanner goodbye. The city bus had dropped her off two blocks away from work when she felt her cell phone buzz. She groped inside her purse for the phone and read the text message.

“Call me.” It was from James.

“What the fuck? You need something and I am supposed to call you?” She ignored the message with annoyance and plopped the unit back into her purse.

She entered the building and headed to her desk when she noticed a familiar figure. “My day is headed for Shitsville,” Miranda concluded. Bob Norton, a co-worker who had been desperately trying to date her for months, hovered nearby. He refused to take no for an answer and seemed flabbergasted by her unrelenting refusal. It didn’t help that the other girls fawned over him. Bob thought he was God’s gift to women and took every opportunity to make Miranda realize her loss.

Miranda scuttled to her desk; she felt safer with the table between them. Bob had a nasty habit of standing too close for comfort. He thought it was sexy. Miranda thought it was nauseating.

“Have you heard the news?” he whispered conspiratorially into her ear.

Miranda felt her skin crawl, like someone had run a fingernail across a chalkboard.

“What news, Bob?” she asked politely. “Does HQ need our services?”

“You wish,” Bob replied, “there are talks that the memo will come today.”

“What memo?” Miranda asked.

“That I’m dating someone from HQ...” Bob hoped to get a reaction with that joke. Miranda’s expression remained uninterested. He continued, “The Company is cutting back on the number of secretaries and some of us will be losing our jobs.”

Miranda was taken aback. Talks like that have been rife for months but nothing ever happened. “It’s just gossip…” Miranda replied, even as panic filled her chest.

Just then, Mrs. Mason, the supervisor, entered the building. Bob scurried back to his table. Ann Mason ran the pool with an iron hand and discouraged gossip. She was strict with the motley crew. Today she seemed anxious and ignored everyone as she made her way to her cubicle. Miranda wondered why she looked so distracted.

When the bombshell exploded, Miranda understood why.

Mrs. Mason called everyone to a meeting. The supervisor waited for the commotion to die down, cleared her throat, and announced, “As you all know, there have been talks about cutting down the number of secretaries working for the company. A new directive has been given to the executives, for them to write their own letters and memos, cutting down the need for clerical services.”

Ann Mason couldn’t look the girls in the eye, “This,” holding up a memo, “contains the names that will be cut. Everyone on the list is entitled to goodwill money worth three months salary.”

She tacked the paper to the bulletin board, grabbed her purse, and made a beeline for the exit. Eerie silence followed her departure, as though the memo contained a death sentence. No one dared see the reality written on the piece of paper.

“Fuck it!” One of the girls exclaimed, grabbing the memo from the board. A ruckus of voices egged her to read out the names.

It sounded like a roll call of death. Each name was met with a groan, nervous laughter, an expletive, or incredulity. Bob winced as his name was read. Miranda cocked an ear as the roll call continued, “The last one to get the honor of being sacked…Miranda Benson.”

Wooden legs carried Miranda back to her desk. She felt cold inside. The harsh reality of her situation hit like a ton of bricks. She couldn’t afford to get fired. What were her chances of landing another job that had potential? She’d probably end up serving coffee or waiting tables.

The persistent ringing of her cell penetrated her numbed brain. “Hello,” she answered, cautiously avoiding the caller ID.

“Miranda, this is James.”

“Swell!” Not exactly the person she wanted to talk to right now.

She summoned a degree of civility, “Yes James?”

“I was texting you all morning, but I guess you were busy.”

“Not busy. Just didn’t want to have anything to do with you,” said a wayward thought.

“Well…” James continued, “I just wanted to let you know. I’m getting married again.”

“Who’s the lucky lady?” Miranda mused, unable to keep the sarcasm away. Then it struck her, “Oh, you mean to the merry widow, your business partner. Congratulations. You two deserve each other.”

“Mimi, please don’t be that way.”

Miranda cringed at the sound of him saying her pet name, as though they didn’t go through a nasty divorce.

“I’m sorry,” Miranda answered, striving for peaceful ground, “But I do mean it. I hope you’ll be happy together.”

There was silence at the other end. “The-the reason I really called was to let you know I will be contesting the terms of the custody. I want my daughter back.”

A bolt of lightning skewered Miranda’s brain. “You what?” she screeched, as the chance for a peace treaty jumped out the window.

“I spoke to a judge friend of mine. He said that after I remarried and showed evidence that my home is more stable than the one you can provide for Sadie, the court can decide to overrule in my favor.”

“You fucking son of a bitch. You think you can take my daughter because you plan to play house with your new wife? She’s not a toy you can play with till you get bored.”

“But you’ve had her for the past two years.” The whine sent bile up her throat.

“You had her from the day she was born until we divorced. You never showed enough interest for her welfare.” Miranda replied with derision. “Besides, why can’t you just start your own family without taking my daughter away from me?”

Awkward silence.

Then James confessed, “I’ve just been to see a doctor. My, err-swimmers, are not so good. I may not have children again.”

The confession was startling, but Miranda hardly felt any sympathy. “Just because you’re impotent is no reason for me to give up my daughter.”

“I’m not impotent. I just can’t have children.” James snarled back.

“Same difference,” Miranda mocked, “You still can’t have her.”

“I can always try.” James sneered. The threat was obvious.

“You can try all you want, you piece of shit, but I’ll see you in hell first.” Miranda screamed before terminating the call.

She was fuming with rage and knew a breakdown was headed her way. Two double whammies in one day was more than anyone could take. She headed down the hallway looking for a dark hole to crawl into and cry. She spotted a utility closet and entered; it was dark and concealed – what she needed for a good bawl.

Miranda had no idea how long she wept in the dark; the office was empty when she emerged. She went to retrieve her purse. She reached to turn off her computer when an idea struck her.

It was a long shot, but if she could make her supervisor Ann Mason understand her situation, then maybe… just maybe, Ann would sympathize and ask the main office to remove her name from the list. The thought gave her hope, and she needed something to cling on to.

Driven with desire to keep her job, and knowing she needed it to keep her daughter, Miranda poured her heart out in an email. She detailed the conversation with John and the threat he made about getting Sadie. She begged Ann Mason to plead her case at HQ and help save her job.

Miranda glanced at her watch and realized it was late. Mrs. Tanner would be wondering where she was. She ended her email with another plea before scrolling through the company contact list until she found Mrs. Mason’s email address.

She uttered a small prayer, then pressed the “send” button.

***

Ace Masterson glared at his grandfather with furious blue eyes. He knew the old man was being an arrogant, stubborn, asshole.

“Are you even aware of what will happen if you die before you can sign control of the company to me?”

“Yes, I do.” The old man replied, serenely. “The trustees will take over. Sell everything and donate it to my favorite charity.”

“How can you even think of that option when you know how much I’ve put into Masterson conglomerate?” Ace asked, infuriated.

The old man straightened his back against the wheelchair. Rheumy eyes failed to conceal the authority he welded. His voice was firm when he answered: “I am aware. You enjoy the fruits of your hard work. Consider your homes all over the world, numerous cars in the garage, a private jet and a yacht in the marina. You have all that because you work hard.”

Ace ran a hand through his hair. The old man was right. He had everything except the deed showing he owned the company.

The old man continued, “I can sign everything over to you… but you know what I want.”

Ace sighed in defeat. “I’m not ready to settle down and start a family. Besides, it’s your fault. You disapprove of everyone I introduce to you.”

“Bah! Socialites, starlets, models, actresses?” The old man enumerated with disdain. “A pretty face and a wet pussy are not all that a woman is made of. You should know by now, the dumber they are, the more expensive their taste. Those hussies will go through your pocket and leave you with just the shirt on your back.”

“Oh, grandpa, you’re full of shit,” Ace chuckled, then added, “Exactly what is it that we are looking for in a girl?” He added emphasis on the ‘we’.

“A girl who can think for herself, and not those airheads you’ve introduced me to. Someone who will love you for who you are and not the number of zeroes in your bank account.”

The veracity in the old man’s words stung. His former girlfriends had expensive tastes. Vacations in the Maldives, jewelry, couture clothes, and cars - he always picked up the tab.

With the tension between them gone, old man Masterson beckoned his grandson near. “Ace, listen to me. I love you. You are my only heir. With your parents gone, I saw you grow up to become who you are today. A family will only make you stronger. I started Masterson’s conglomerate from nothing. It’s my legacy to you. Protect that legacy and pass it on to your children.”

Ace drew an audible sigh and replied, “I know, grandpa. I love you, too. I have a meeting at the office,” he added, before giving the old man a peck on the forehead.

Ace prepared to leave when the old man called out, “Better hurry with the search for the perfect wife. I may die tomorrow.”

“Sure! You’ll probably outlive us all, you wily bastard.” Ace replied, as the old man cackled with laughter.

The rest of Ace Masterson’s day was full. He managed a meeting with his top executives, a lunch with a prince from Saudi Arabia interested in buying his aviation company in Jeddah, another meeting with a senator, and closed a deal for a tract of land in India.

He returned to the main office ready to call it a day. A couple of checks needed his signature and Sienna’s note explained it was for the laid off personnel in a downtown office. He grabbed a decanter from a nearby console and poured himself a shot of brandy before signing the checks. All were payable to unfamiliar names. He recalled a memo about cutting the secretarial pool.

“This must be it,” he contemplated.

“I wonder if it’s too late for a booty call.” Ava, a girl he had met in a bar said that he could call anytime he felt lonely.

“Shit, I’m not even in the mood.”

He powered on his Mac, deciding to check his emails. He had over 20 unread messages in his inbox. He scrolled through the names deciding there was nothing urgent that he couldn’t deal with tomorrow. He scrolled to the last email and saw it was from a Miranda Benson.

He didn’t know her, but the name sounded familiar. He clicked the inbox and was surprised to read the first line: Dear Mrs. Ann Mason.

“What the fuck…”

The email wasn’t for him; the sender had typed the wrong address. He wanted to ignore it but curiosity got the upper hand. She sounded distraught, probably the reason for the mix-up of names. Something clicked inside his head as he reached over and rifled through the checks he signed. There was one payable to Miranda Benson.

Ace leaned back on his swivel chair. The glow from the computer illuminated his good-looking face. He felt bad about the woman’s predicament. She sounded like a devoted mom, and spirited enough to coax her supervisor to plead her case. Her email was concise and clear.

“An intelligent woman my grandfather would approve of.” Then, “What if…”

He clicked on the Mac, in search of Mastersons’ personnel database. He entered Miranda Benson’s name and drummed his fingers on the desk impatiently. The Mac blinked, then pulled the woman’s image from its vast memory.

Miranda had a long face and wide jaw line, a broad and beautiful smile that enhanced the attractive face. The distance between her hazel eyes was wide, making them a prominent feature. Her reddish brown hair was tied back, with loose bangs framing her face.

“I wonder how she would look naked, with that hair hanging freely over her shoulder.”

Ace shrugged the notion away but an idea hurtled through his brain. If it worked, Grandfather Masterson would hand over control of the company and Miranda Benson would be in a better position to keep her daughter.

***

Miranda reported for work the next day and headed straight for Ann Mason’s office. She tossed and turned all night debating if the email had been a bad call. Yesterday she was both panicked and desperate. Today she was just worried about Ann’s reaction. She prayed Ann understood her predicament as she headed directly to the woman’s cubicle.

“Ann, about the email...” Miranda began.

“Miranda,” Ann spoke simultaneously, “I was about to call for you.”

Miranda was relieved. Ann had read the email and seemed okay.

“About the email, I wanted to explain…”

“What email?” Ann asked. “I haven’t gone through my inbox yet. But that’s not why you’re here. I got a call from HQ. You are needed at the penthouse. Look for Sienna, she’ll take care of you.”

“What? Why?” Miranda asked, taken aback. Ann looked at her like she was an idiot. Anyone else would swoon at the chance, but Miranda looked ready to flee.

“I don’t know why. I just follow orders like you do.” Ann retorted.

In less than an hour, Miranda found herself in front of Mastersons’ Conglomerate. The gold, glass and chrome façade, customized with suspended planters, was its own version of subdued affluence. It wasn’t hard to imagine the wealth that poured into its various organizations.

Sienna met her at the lobby and led her to a room that was bigger than her entire office. She sat, feeling like an intruder and regretting turning down the offer of a drink. Her tongue was stuck to the roof of her mouth.

Miranda fidgeted, running a sweaty palm through her hair; her throat burned as she ran a tongue across dry lips. She kept an eye on the door, wallowing in the tension. She could still make a run for it, but then she’d never know why she was summoned in the first place.

The door opened and Miranda gawked. The billionaire CEO and ruler of this empire approached, clutching a manila envelope, his free hand outstretched for a handshake. “Miss Benson, I’m…”

“…Ace Masterson,” Miranda squeaked, taking the outstretched hand. “I know who you are. Technically, you’re my boss.”

“Can I offer you anything before we begin?”

“The girl, err-your secretary, offered me a drink earlier. I’m sorry I declined because I’m nervous being here and feel like peeing. I don’t know why I got summoned. I don’t think I’ve done anything wrong and I’m being cut from the secretarial pool which really sucks. A glass of water would be great.” Miranda blathered.

Ace smiled. She was a bundle of nerves; an effect he had on most women. Who could blame her?

Ace was Hollywood drop-dead gorgeous. His pictures didn’t do him justice. His hair was short in a perfect French crop, complementing the five o’clock shadow on a perfectly squared jaw. He didn’t forget to shave. This was designer stubble at its sexiest. Animal magnetism sluiced from every pore.

“Would you like to use the bathroom before we begin?” he asked kindly.

Miranda jumped at the opportunity and, once alone, chastised her reflection in the mirror. “You’re acting like an idiot.”

Summoning a level of poise that she hardly possessed, Miranda emerged and immediately gulped down a glass of water too quickly, drowning herself in the process. She coughed wildly as Ace handed her a box of tissues.

“I’m sorry…” she apologized, turning crimson.

“Miss Benson… may I call you Miranda? I called you here to offer you a job.” He announced.

“B-b-but I thought I was getting fired,” she stuttered, then “Really?” in voice two octaves higher. How on earth did that happen?

“Yes, really,” he answered lightly, “But I need to know some things about you.”

Miranda nodded effusively as she controlled the urge to whoop. Had she known, she would have prepared a CV. “Please feel free to ask,” she replied, eagerly.

“You’re a single mom caring for your daughter, right?” Miranda nodded, wondering how he knew.

“You are not getting spousal support and your only means of income is your job as secretary?”

“Yes,” she replied, embarrassed.

“Do you have a boyfriend, or anyone special in your life right now?” Miranda shook her head slowly, wondering where this was going.

Doesn’t he want to know how fast I can type?

“Are you having sex with anyone on a regular basis?”

“No!” she sputtered, “I mean… I hardly have time for my daughter. A man would just be a distraction.” Miranda wondered if this was the interview or he was just plain nosy.

“Would you like to get married again someday?”

“When the right man comes along,” She answered honestly.

“Could you describe your ideal husband?”

Miranda was baffled by all these unorthodox questions, but decided to humor him. Bottom-line, he was the CEO and intended to give her a job.

“He should learn to love my daughter, and should respect me as a partner. He must be capable of working hard to secure a stable future for us as family. He would never cheat on me because I never will.”

Miranda saw approval in his eyes, although she wondered if telling him she could type 75 words per minute would sway the odds in her favor.

“One last question. Would you agree to marry someone that you’ve just met for the first time?”

“NO! That would be idiotic.” Miranda felt she had extended him enough courtesy to warrant an explanation. “Mr. Masterson, what’s all this about?”

Ace leaned back and deliberated. “What I’m about to offer you may sound crazy, but please hear me out and let me explain,” he said.

Miranda’s superficial composure turned to embarrassment when Ace described reading the email meant for Ann Mason. “I’m really sorry…” she started to apologize.

He flashed his palm, gesturing her to stop. She listened on and hardly believed her ears when he detailed the rest of his story. Miranda gaped at him, shocked beyond belief.

“You want me to marry you?” she asked, horrified.

“Call it a marriage of convenience. It’s a business deal. I’ll pay generously for your time. When my grandfather hands me the deed to the company, we’ll get a quickie divorce and you’ll have enough money to keep your daughter.”

“Don’t you have a girlfriend to do that with?” It was indiscreet, and Miranda regretted asking.

“Not at the moment,” Ace replied, seemingly unperturbed. “You’re different from any of my girlfriends he’s met. Grandpa was never predictable and that’s why I think he might believe that I’ve fallen for you. We can say it was a whirlwind romance. We met and fell in love.”

Ace’s enthusiasm for the plot was infectious. “Please say yes,” he begged, “You’ll help me and I’ll help you with your dilemma. I think this is a win-win for both of us.”

“THIS is such an ideal situation. Being married to Ace would mean that James can’t threaten me about Sadie anymore… and marriage with a sexy man like Ace is the wildest thing that could ever happen to me. It will be over soon and it will all be okay for everyone. I’m crazy if I say no.” she reminded herself.

“Okay! I say yes.” Miranda agreed, feeling secure for the first time.

***

Miranda knew deceiving the head of a conglomerate wouldn’t be child’s play. The old man may be senile, but he was not a fool. Ace suggested spending time together - a lot of time together - “business meetings”, he called them, to become familiar with one another. The only rules were honesty, no holds barred, and no judgment.

Miranda volunteered information about her past, nothing was spared, even her first kiss and the first man she ever made out with. She even answered Ace’s probing questions about bra size and her favorite sexual positions. Questions about married life and divorce were difficult; Ace seemed to notice, dropped the prying and moved on. Miranda came to know about his shenanigans with past girlfriends, the lavish gifts, his wealth and travels, and his consuming passion for the company.

Ace was introduced to Sadie, and was smitten.

As days passed, familiarity blossomed between them, anchored on a common need. They had to convince the old man they were in love.

“I think we’re ready to meet my grandpa,” Ace announced inside the car, before dropping her off at her apartment.

“NO! I don’t think I am,” Miranda replied with horror.

“You are. The sooner we get that done, the sooner we can plan for the wedding.” He replied.

“What if he thinks I’m a fraud? Is there something more I should do?” Miranda asked.

“There is. You once said you’ll never fall in love again. Your experience with James has soured you to love. You have to forget that now and act like you’re in love with me. We are comfortable with one another, but you need to be at ease when I hold your hand or put my arms around your shoulder or kiss you. That’s what lovers do, isn’t it?”

Miranda was flustered about the kissing part because she couldn’t deny she had often wondered about that. Ace moved closer and slid an arm across the back of her seat. Miranda felt her cheeks burn. “What are you thinking right now, Miranda?”

“What it would feel like to be kissed by you,” she answered honestly, lowering her head.

He pushed the weight of her hair away from her shoulder, feeling the warmth at the nape of her neck. “I’ve always wanted to do that,” he said. His thumb stroked her cheek as he leaned in, closing the distance between them and brushing her lips with his.

Miranda felt the tension between them as she reached out a hand to caress the shadowy stubble across his jaw. She smelled the brandy in his breath and felt intoxicated. She saw desire spring into his hooded eyes and felt his arm slide down the small of her back. She closed her eyes as he kissed her gently and then with ever increasing pressure. Miranda wrapped her arms around his neck, ignoring the warning in her ear.

“Remember this is just make-believe.”

Miranda felt his heart racing against hers. She moaned softly in his mouth as his fingers caressed the small indentation in her collarbone. She was eager for more and gave a small cry when he suddenly drew away.

“See, I knew you were ready.” Ace smiled.

“You asshole, you were playing me?” Miranda was aghast.

“I’ve always wanted to kiss you. You’re a desirable woman and I doubt, as you fear, that my grandfather will have misgivings about you and me.”

“…I’ve always wanted to kiss you.” The words sounded so good, they made her giddy. And for a make-believe relationship that was dangerous territory.

***

Miranda dreaded the meeting with old man Masterson more than anything in the world.

“Are you sure he knows we’re coming?”

“Yes, along with a huddle of lawyers who will give you the third-degree.”

“What?” She replied in horror, not realizing he was teasing. “You idiot,” she remarked, catching on.

“Mommy, it’s not nice to call people names,” a tiny voice called from the backseat. Ace had proposed the wild idea of bringing Sadie along.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart.” She apologized.

“Mommy is just nervous about meeting grandpa.” Ace informed Sadie.

“Mommy said he might not like her. But that’s okay coz you like mommy, don’t you?”

“Yes, Sadie, I like mommy very much,” Ace replied, glancing at Miranda meaningfully. He squeezed her hand lightly. “You’ll be okay,” he assured her.

Ace was right. The old man looked imposing, even seated on a wheelchair with a blanket covering his emaciated legs. Miranda realized his irascible veneer stemmed from ennui being confined to a chair. He must have been physically powerful when he was younger; but what the years couldn’t diminish was the astuteness as he studied her and Sadie.

“Grandpa, this is Miranda.” Ace introduced her.

Miranda approached cautiously. “It’s an honor to meet you, Mr. Masterson.”

He said nothing, and scrutinized her face. Miranda wanted to look away in embarrassment. Then his frown turned into a huge beam. Miranda smiled in relief.

“And who is this angel? She is a vision and I’m already dead.” Grandpa Masterson said, looking at Sadie who smiled and tolerated him taking her on his knee. The old man was captivated. The rest of the visit was a breeze as Miranda and Ace faked affection with soft caresses and meaningful glances.

“We should hold the wedding here, and it should be as grand as your mom and dad’s wedding.” Masterson announced.

“We were thinking of a simple wedding…” Miranda asserted, the words trickling off as the old man glowered. “We haven’t discussed a date yet,” Ace added.

“Make it soon” grandfather commanded, “and I want you all to move back here with me. This house is too big for me and the fresh air will do the child good.”

“Shouldn’t we be asking my future wife what she thinks?” Ace asked.

The old man glared at Miranda. How could she argue? Every fiber in her body was commanding her to say yes.

“Of course,” she squeaked helplessly

***

Miranda had a glimpse of the affluence and power behind the Masterson name during the wedding preparations. Ace assigned an entourage catering to her needs as the bride-to-be. From the flowers flown from Amsterdam, the menu and wine accompanying each course, to the wedding dress that was specially made by a designer in Paris, and the rock on her finger, Ace never missed a beat.

She was upset over the exorbitant sum spent on a deception.

“Do you really think my grandfather won’t speculate if I started saving pennies? I used to give away expensive cars to former girlfriends. Never underestimate him. He’s got his eyes on us,” Ace replied.

Miranda decided that if this were to be the only fairytale wedding she’d ever experience in her life, then she would savor every moment.

However, she was unprepared for the flood of emotions when the day arrived. A coterie of manicurist, hairstylists and two make-up artists fawned and fussed over her. “Does it really take so many people to make me look pretty for my wedding day?” she wondered.

The designer of the dress held the gown over her head as she slipped into it. He took her hand and led her to a full-length mirror as a string of ‘ohhs’ and ‘ahhs’ followed her. Miranda knew she had to look good. These people assisting her were experts in their field. She saw her reflection for the first time and gasped.

Who was that girl wearing the ivory-colored gown with the fitted bodice that accentuated every curve? Swarovski crystals decorated the sweetheart neckline and illusion lace at the back. The gown flowed to the floor in a mermaid style that highlighted her hips. Diamond-drop earrings dangled from her ears and a slim diamond encrusted bracelet hugged her wrist. Both pieces of jewelry were gifts from Ace.

“Oh, my God!” She whispered in delight. She knew Ace would approve.

“Mommy, it’s time!” Sadie announced, entering the room with a flourish. She held Miranda’s bouquet in her hand.

Miranda accepted it and asked her, “Doesn’t mommy look like a princess, sweetheart?”

Sadie nodded, gave a toothy grin, and declared, “But you’re not really a princess. You’re just my mommy.”

Miranda’s heart was beating wildly as they headed to the courtyard. Every inch of space was decorated with exotic flowers. She trembled lightly as the music from the string quartet signaled the start of the ceremony. With Sadie by her side, she walked slowly down the aisle toward her groom who was equally dapper in a three-piece suit. He looked perfect. Everything was perfect.

Tears welled in her eyes. She knew she was in love with Ace. She had known that for quite some time. Unfortunately, that wasn’t part of the legal agreement that she signed for this sham marriage.

***

“Exhausted, Mrs. Masterson?” Ace teased, noting the worn out expression on her face.

They were in the penthouse suite of a 5-star hotel Ace had booked to escape the revelry still going on back in the house. The band was a popular group and the party would last till the wee hours of the morning.

“No, not tired. Just confounded as to how I’ll get out of this dress considering it took a team to get me into it,” Miranda replied.

Ace eyed the sheer number of buttons that lined her back. “Let me give it a try… and if I haven’t said it yet, you look ravishing.”

Miranda secretly smiled, swept her hair aside, and stood with her back to him. Ace fumbled with the tiny buttons and swore under his breath a couple of times. Miranda wondered if it was the sight of her nape that was making him awkward. Back when they first kissed, he had said he always wanted to touch the back of her neck.

He managed to free her after what seemed an eternity and immediately poured a large glass of brandy. She headed for the bathroom door, casually stepping out of the expensive gown before going in. She knew he had a glimpse of her wearing just the strapless bra and lace panties.

“Here’s to us,” he toasted, handing her a glass of wine when she emerged wrapped in a dressing gown. He had shed off his tuxedo, loosened his shirt, and was walking around barefoot. Miranda had never seen him in this state of dishabille. A strange sensation stirred between her legs.

Casual conversation was needed to ease the tension she felt. “Do you think grandpa is happy about the wedding?”

Ace replied, “I think so. I’ve never seen him having so much fun dancing in his wheelchair with Sadie. That little girl sure knows how to weave her magic.”

“Can you blame her?” Miranda asked. “She thinks he’s everything, especially after he got her that pony. I hope he doesn’t spoil her too much.”

“He will,” Ace countered.

“I don’t know how I’ll ever face him again if he finds out about us. He’s been so kind and accepting of Sadie and me. That makes me feel so guilty. It weighs heavily on my mind, you know.”

Ace drew close and held her tightly. “If that happens I’ll tell him it was all my idea, that you had nothing to do with it.”

Miranda was stunned. “You can’t do that. You’ll lose everything,” she countered.

“I won’t be poor if that’s what you’re worried about. It won’t be Ace Masterson the billionaire playboy, just Ace the regular guy,” he grinned.

Miranda shoved an elbow to his ribs, “Don’t be silly. I don’t think you’ll ever be filed under the “regular” category.”

Ace chuckled, still holding her. Miranda liked being held in his arms. She reached out a hand in a gesture of gratitude and stroked his face. “Thank you for everything - for a fairytale wedding, for being the kind person that you are, and for giving me a chance to keep my daughter.”

Ace caught her hand, turned it palms up and kissed it. “I promise that no one will ever take Sadie away from you.”

It was inevitable that she would kiss him. Her gratitude was overflowing. It was supposed to be a kiss of appreciation, but Ace responded by holding the side of her face and deepening the kiss. It wasn’t like their first kiss inside the car when he teased her about being ready to meet his grandfather. This was something different, more erotic; arousing dormant sexual desires she didn’t know she still had. She submitted to its call and snaked her arms around his neck.

Miranda knew she was treading in dangerous waters. But this was her wedding night… and she wanted Ace.

Ace’s lips traveled along the side of her neck and made their way slowly down her throat. She moaned in delight as his stubble chafed her soft skin, tickling her. Her hands acquired a life of their own as she feverishly caressed the muscle on his chest, daring even to journey down, lower to his belly and feeling the hardness outlined inside his pants. She caressed it gently, hearing him groan against her neck as his manhood increased.

“Miranda…” he whispered huskily.

Miranda took his hand and cupped it against her breast, her meaning clear. She wanted him.

Ace moved with surprising swiftness. He lifted her into his arms and strode purposely towards the bedroom. Placing her gently on her feet, he stripped off the robe she was wearing. She stood there half-naked until her brassiere and panties joined the heap on the floor. Her hands moved furiously with his until he too was fully undressed.

Ace pushed her down to the mattress and gazed at her nakedness. The hooded eyes with the pupils dilated, nostrils flaring with every breath, heat emanating from every pore, betraying him of his own lust for her. His fingers caressed her rib cage, each stroke igniting the embers that had been fermenting. When his fingers touched the softness between her legs, Miranda flooded with desire that made her weak.

He straddled her and bent low running kisses down her neck, her collarbone, and between the valleys of her breasts. His lips found her aroused nipples, and his tongue swirled and played with the oversensitive tips. He sucked her hard. Miranda gasped in pleasure then grabbed his cock beneath him and stroked him firmly.

“Stop,” he commanded, slapping her hand away, “I don’t want to finish before you’re ready.” He shimmied down as Miranda’s body blazed with expectation. She knew where he was headed. “You have beautiful legs,” he said, caressing her skin, before he opened them wide and knelt between her outstretched thighs.

His tongue on her was like dousing dry tinder with gasoline and setting it on fire. A sudden conflagration like cold heat tore through her. A low grumbling in her belly turned into a maniacal moan as his tongue played with her clit. Her fingers clawed on the sheets as longing spiked and threatened to overwhelm her. He seemed to stay there forever until Miranda decided to take control.

“My turn,” she announced, slithering out from under him, and pushing him down against the bed. Ace submitted willingly and watched intently as she took his cock and caressed it with her palms. He heaved with each stroke, the tendons of his neck like corded twine, eyes closed and head thrown back.

Miranda took him into her mouth, her tongue sliding back and forth on the underside of his cock. He bucked, slowly filling her mouth completely till she felt him hit the back of her throat. He reached for her head, controlling her movement. He pulled out of her slowly then drove in deeper again. Miranda instinctively caught the rhythm of the soundless dance of his cock in her mouth. She took every inch of him, relishing his taste, driving him higher and higher into the apex until his panting sounded like a roaring wave in her ear.

He took back command as he threw her to the bed and straddled her once again. He entered her vagina slowly, then with ever increasing intensity. Miranda arched her back and met his every thrust. He drove his shaft even deeper, their eyes locked together, and bodies moving in perfect harmony.

The fire inside her pussy begged for release. His panting matured into guttural sounds that emanated deep within his chest.

“I’m coming,” he announced.

“Yes! Yes! Yes!” she cried as the first wave of a shattering orgasm rocked her. This was soon followed by a similar wave that rode the crest of Ace’s own orgasm. His body trembled violently. Miranda felt the shiver that traveled down his spine as he thrust into her one last time and emptied his cum inside her.

Minutes passed before the ringing in Miranda’s ears subsided. Ace’s labored breathing had normalized when he positioned her in the crook of his elbow.

“I knew it was there somewhere,” he teased her.

“Knew what?” Miranda asked.

“A wanton waiting for me to come and find her,” he replied.

A naughty grin formed in her lips. He didn’t realize what he was saying. He didn’t just find something somewhere; he had unleashed a dam that had been threatening to overflow since the day they met.

“I think there’s more of her wanting to be found,” she teased back as her hand travelled down in search of his cock.

***

Miranda wallowed in wedded bliss and prayed it would never end. She settled down into her role as Mrs. Ace Masterson, treating his grandfather as her own, and watching the bond that developed between Sadie and the old man. She was happy, even if guilt attacked every now and then. She couldn’t believe her luck and where it had taken her.

She had no idea that fate would throw a major curve ball when she went to answer the door one late afternoon.

“James!” She expressed surprise at the sight of her ex-husband.

“Hello, Miranda… or should I say Mrs. Masterson?” James replied sarcastically.

Miranda controlled her anger. James had no right to come unannounced, but that was typical. He always found a way to catch her off-guard and make her feel vulnerable.

“What do you want?” She asked.

“You sound upset. Can’t I visit my daughter without annoying you somehow?”

Miranda hated his condescension and replied, “What do you want, James? Did you come all the way here to make me feel miserable? It’s so unlike you to travel a long way because you suddenly miss your daughter,” Miranda sneered.

“You’re right. I came to tell her that she is going to live with me soon. I assume you haven’t told her yet?” James snickered.

“And I told you… over my dead body!” Miranda yelled.

“Miranda, you don’t have to be so angry. I assure you, you will hand Sadie back to me.”

“And how do you intend to do that?” Miranda asked coldly. “I’m married now and can provide her a stable life. Something that you threw at me when you first announced that you were getting married again,” Miranda replied with satisfaction.

“Oh, you mean you’ve moved on and left your old life behind?”

James’ laughter made her skin crawl with sudden fear.

James saw her reaction and added, “One bad thing about leaving the past behind, you leave your dirty secrets behind, too.”

“What do you mean?” Miranda asked, uncertain where this was leading.

“I went to our old apartment. Imagine my surprise when I was told that you no longer lived there? That alone is in direct violation of our custody arrangement.”

“I meant to tell you. I forgot because I was so busy with the wedding arrangements,” Miranda apologized.

“Sure!” James agreed with sarcasm, “It’s all good, because I found your dirty secret.”

“What dirty secret?” Miranda asked, baffled.

He didn’t answer the question directly. “Let’s just say I spent the last hour on Google learning all about Masterson’s Conglomerate. That’s where you used to work, right?”

“Yes, that’s where I worked,” she replied then added, “I don’t really know where you’re taking this conversation and my husband is home.”

James went for the kill. “Let me make it clear to you. I found the contract between you and your husband,” he spat the word. “Initially it confused me until I went online and read all about Masterson Conglomerate. The old man still has control over all that wealth. I had a field day reading the tabloids hinting the old man was demanding for his grandson to get married. Lo and behold, suddenly you become his grandson’s wife. Everything fell into place. Both of you are in cahoots for the old man’s wealth.”

“Miranda,” Ace’s voice called from inside, “I think our guest will be more comfortable in the study.”

Ace calmly eyed James, who was taken aback by his sudden appearance. But James knew he had the upper hand and swaggered in. Miranda was distressed and wondered why Ace acted so unworried.

“He knows,” she whispered between stiff lips as they headed inside.

Ace stroked her back reassuringly, but didn’t reply.

“This is cozy,” James observed as they sat down and faced one another. “I still want to see my daughter,” he threatened Miranda.

“Sadie is at the riding school with my grandfather for company. It’s just you, Miranda and me now. Feel free to state what’s on your mind.” Ace replied.

Miranda marveled at his composure. He was about to lose everything, yet his demeanor suggested otherwise.

“It’s quite simple really. I want my daughter. Miranda insists on having her. I know your dirty little secret. It’s only a matter of choice. Give her to me or I go to the old man and tell him all about it. He’ll probably offer me a reward for all my trouble.” James snapped.

“You’re talking blackmail, then?” Ace asked smoothly.

“Call it anything you want,” James snarled, “I’ll come out of this a richer man and still get my daughter back.”

“You’ll get your daughter back…” Ace pronounced.

“No!” Miranda cried in horror.

“…after you’ve paid a fine of 2 million dollars and served a jail sentence of 20 years,” Ace finished.

“What?” James spattered. “What the fuck are you talking about?” he asked belligerently.

Ace sneered. Miranda had inkling that this was the face behind the success of Masterson Conglomerate.

“Let me tell you a story before the cops get here. You run a nondescript electronics company back home. Perfectly legit, except beneath all that you also run an elaborate scheme to illegally transport components from America to other countries in violation of export control laws. You’ve covertly acquired license-controlled electronic components from American manufacturers and shipping them outside the country. I believe that’s called criminal profiteering and conspiracy to commit fraud against the government. Two days ago you lost contact with the driver of the truck that hauled your goods. I wouldn’t be surprised if you haven’t heard from him, since he sung like a canary and confessed to the FBI everything he knew. But here’s the best part. Your income goes undetected by the IRS because you siphoned it to your fiancée’s bank account. She has a small fortune inherited from her deceased husband. No one will ever notice, except now, she has become your accomplice.”

“Th-that’s a lie...” James sputtered, looking ashen and scared.

Ace picked a remote from a nearby TV set and flicked the device. The screen came to life and displayed a surveillance tape. “This is a copy the FBI gave me. It’s very entertaining.”

James watched in horror as the tape showed him with the missing truck driver before he pulled out from the store. The tape segued to the driver as he stopped by the side of the road before a group of plainclothes men entered the cargo hold. The contents of the crates were opened, and the contrabands hidden within displayed for evidence.

James was petrified. The tables had turned against him. The only question that remained was if he could still get himself out of this mess.

“Miranda, I’m sorry. Please. I’ll never bother you again. Just help me make this all go away,” he pleaded.

Miranda didn’t know what to feel except for the huge burden that had been lifted off her chest. She looked at James with pity and said, “It’s ironic you were the reason I was desperate enough to ask my supervisor to help me keep my job. I wrote her an email that I accidentally sent to Ace. I actually have you to thank for that. Now I don’t ever have to see you again and Sadie doesn’t have to know what an asshole her father really was.”

She left the study and noted the distinct sound of a police siren in the distance. She ran up to the bedroom, flung herself on the bed and cried.

***

Miranda had lost track of time. She cried tears of joy knowing she was finally free from James and everything negative he represented in her life. At the same time, she felt compassion for him because he was, after all, the father of her daughter. Sadie was his greatest gift to her. It was unfortunate that he only needed her to make his own life complete. She felt no bitterness towards his fiancée even if she was the reason her marriage with James ended.

She rose from the bed and headed for the bathroom to splash cold water on her face. Her eyes were red-rimmed from crying. She heard a soft knock at the door as Ace entered.

“Are you alright,” he asked.

She noted the concern in his voice and nodded. “Is he gone?” She asked.

“Yes and I promise you’ll never see him again,” he replied.

“I know,” she answered softly back.

He seemed hesitant to come near. Miranda sat stiffly on the bed. Ace approached and sat next to her. “You must have a lot of questions in your mind right now,” he said.

“How did you know about everything you said back there?” Her curiosity was appropriate, since she lived with James for 7 years and never knew. “You had him followed?” she added.

Ace nodded and confessed, “I have a man on my payroll. He used to work for the FBI. His talent lies in looking so ordinary you’d never think him a danger to anyone. He walked into the store and pretended interest in a particularly expensive piece of hardware. It was James who attended to him. James bragged that the item he was interested in was unlicensed but since he had connections, he could get it in a matter of days. And that’s how it all started.”

“But why?” Miranda persisted.

Ace took a deep breath and answered, “It’s all part of who I am. When I enter a business deal, as I did with you, I make sure the future holds no surprises. When I offered you the arrangement to marry me and help me get control of the company, James represented a complication, an obstacle I didn’t want.”

“So… all this,” Miranda waved her hand in the air, “is just an arrangement for you?” Miranda accused. Disappointment welled in her chest. Then she added, “Well…of course it is. I knew that from the start… but I was hoping… I’m so stupid to even think that…” She couldn’t finish the rest of the sentence. Her disillusionment was complete.

Ace held her hand and said, “There’s more.” He reached into his breast pocket, drew out a thick envelope from within, and handed it to her.

“What’s this?” Miranda asked curiously.

“Open it and see,” Ace replied as Miranda noted his excitement.

It was a document several pages thick transferring all rights, control, and ownership of Masterson’s Conglomerate, signed by the old man, sealed and delivered to Ace.

Her hands trembled as she folded the document, slid it back inside the envelope, and handed it over to him. She couldn’t blame him for feeling ecstatic and triumphant. But to Miranda it simply spelled that it was over. Her fairy tale life had come to an end.

“It’s over, then,” she whispered sadly.

“Yes, it’s over.” Ace assented.

Miranda wanted desperately to save some vestige of pride as she clung desperately to self-control; but it wasn’t enough, because tears started to roll down her cheeks.

“I’m happy for you, Ace,” she said in a tremulous voice, as she wiped away her tears.

Ace gazed at her intently. He was uncertain if her tears were still the result of the ugly scene with James, or because she was really happy they had finally won.

“Why the tears then?” He asked gently.

“Because we no longer have to pretend,” Miranda answered simply. She vowed silently that no matter how much it hurt and how terribly she would miss him, she would manage somehow with Sadie.

Then Ace did a totally unexpected thing. He stood up and faced her, then went down on one knee. He held her hands tightly in his, gazed intently into her eyes and said, “Miranda, I know that our marriage started as a farce. But our friendship is real. We have no secrets between us. I never proposed to you or asked you to be my wife. You became one because you signed a contract saying you will. You honored all the terms of our agreement. When I hold you, or kiss you, or make love to you, let it not be because of a piece of paper that you signed. I am asking you now. Please be my wife in every sense of the word because I have fallen totally in love you, Miranda Masterson.”

Miranda gulped, like she had difficulty swallowing. She looked comical with her eyes opened wide in amazement and her mouth agape.

“You love me?” she asked foolishly.

“You love me,” she repeated the words, lost in disbelief.

“You love me!” It was a shriek of jubilation as she hurled herself at him and threw her arms tightly across his neck. Ace toppled backwards, with her on top of him. They rolled on the floor as their laughter filled the room.

They weren’t sure when the seeds of love first sprouted between them, but they were absolutely certain their love would be true till the end of time.

*****

THE END