I placed my bags on the threshold and peeked in at the huge, unkempt, warehouse that Jude expected me to call home.

“This? This was your plan?”

I was so unimpressed. I’d been expecting at least a taste of luxury, instead, I was looking at something that resembled a warehouse after a rave. Trash was everywhere. It smelled funny and stains that I couldn’t identify decorated the couch.

I was grossed out and wanted desperately to get a can of Lysol and a jug of bleach. I looked towards what I thought was the kitchen and shivered. I swore I saw something crawling.

I picked up my bags and backed up. “Nope. I can’t live like this. What’s one point one billion dollars worth if you can’t enjoy it because you have tetanus and hepatitis?”

“My place isn’t that bad,” Jude said trying to bring my bags inside. I slapped at his hands.

“Jude, this place is disgusting. How do you live like this?”

“Happily.”

“You need help.”

“Well, I guess I could hire someone—”

“No, I mean mentally. You need help if you thought I would move into this cesspool and be okay with it.”

“My feelings are so hurt.”

“You don’t have feelings.”

“Yes, I do. Normally during football season. And soccer season. But never baseball season. Too boring. Unless feeling bored is a feeling.”

I ignored him and continued to look from the safety of the door. He nudged me, or rather pushed me inside, and secured the lock on the door.

“It’s not so bad once you get used to it.”

“I can’t get used to this, Jude. I refuse to get used to this. It’s… it’s… it’s uninhabitable.”

He looked at me as if I were nuts. He walked away from me, grabbing my bags. “I’ve lived here for two years. This place is great. Don’t be a snob.”

“I’m not a snob because I want to live in a place that doesn’t have creepy crawlies in the kitchen.”

He took a look at the kitchen, grimaced and said, “Yeah. I think I should call someone. I guess we should head to your place then.”

“My place?!” My eyebrows shot up. Per Jude’s plan, I’d live with him. He’d been rather persuasive and his plan had made sense, up until now.

“Just for a few hours until a maid makes sense of my living arrangements.”

I didn’t want to leave my bags in his apartment under its current conditions, so I grabbed them and stood next to the door.

“Okay. A few hours.”

He took my bags from me and we made our way back to his car.

“So where do you live?”

“East downtown.”

“That’s not far, maybe we would have run into each other eventually.”

“I doubt it. We don’t run in the same circles.”

“What makes you think that?”

“I’m a lowly temp worker, you’re a billionaire’s son and former pro-athlete.”

“We have more in common than you think.”

“Name one thing.” I happily waited for him to answer, enjoying our banter. Even though I didn't want to admit it, he was good company. We’d actually spent a little extra time in Vegas after my friends had already flown back, to meet with a lawyer and draw up the contract. Misha and Emmaline had been surprisingly excited about our agreement. I had expected them to be judgmental and tell me I was crazy, but they hadn’t. They’d seemed excited for me. Maybe it was the promise of billions of dollars that had made them open to the idea of their best friend staying married to a man she barely knew.

We’d flown home together and much to my dismay, Oliver had met us on the landing. It had been an awkward car ride. I’d wanted to talk about his health and he’d ignored all my questions and instead focused on what plans Jude and I had for our lives together. It was as if Oliver had forgotten that Jude and I had only recently met.

I didn't know what Oliver’s lawyer had told him or what Jude had told his father, but Oliver was over the moon. I just wanted reassurance that I still had a job, after he assured me that I did, I tried to be receptive to his chipper mood. And for the first time since I saw them together, Oliver and Jude hadn’t fought. They had almost been pleasant towards each other.

Except, as Jude and I walked to the car that waited for us Oliver had yelled to Jude, “You better not screw this up, Jude!”

“Thanks for the vote of confidence, Dad,” Jude had called back.

I smiled to myself. Oliver and Jude were more alike than they realized.

“What are you smiling about?” Jude asked as we turned onto my street.

“Oh, nothing,” I said.

“You know, a healthy marriage is a marriage without secrets.”

“Our marriage is pretty unhealthy already given that it’s based on a lie and all.”

“Touché,” he said as he pulled up in front of my apartment building. We climbed out and made our way upstairs.

I sensed him staring at my butt and turned around and caught him.

I shook my head as I continued up the stairs. “Seriously, Jude... you know the rules.”

“What?” he gave me a sheepish, boyish grin, “I was just looking not touching. You can't blame me for enjoying the view.”

I was too winded to argue with him. “Gosh, I need to get into better shape.”

“Yeah, as your husband, I worry about your cardiovascular health.”

I was too out of breath to be angry and just gave a resigned sigh, fished my key out of my purse and opened my door.

“Nice...” he said softly as he invited himself in. He took his time, looking around. I immediately felt self-conscious thinking of the mansion Oliver lived in, but then I realized how silly I was being. Jude’s loft had been a cesspool, speaking of which...

“Don’t you have a housekeeper that you need to call?”

He shook his head. “Obviously I don’t. Can you look one up for me?”

I wanted to tell him no, but realized I’d probably be a lot more efficient. I pulled out my phone and started searching for a service and was too busy focusing on the task to notice he was going through my things.

I saw him pull out my scrapbook and yelled, “Hey! Put that down!”

Of course, he ignored me. “Who’s this? He looks like he’s in pain.”

I snatched the picture from his hand, knowing exactly what he was talking about. It was a picture of my ex-boyfriend Evan, and he did look like he was in pain. He was surrounded by a group of dogs that were ready for adoption. The picture had been taken last Christmas. I’d dragged him to a fundraiser for a local animal rescue group. He hadn’t wanted to go, but I’d insisted. He’d been miserable the whole time. I swear when I wasn’t looking he’d probably even kicked a puppy.

Jude sat down next to me, snatched the picture back and studied it while scratching his chin. “He looks like a real charmer. So who is he? Ex-boyfriend?”

“Yes,” I grumbled.

“Hmm... he looks like the type who would kick a puppy.”

I couldn’t help the giggle that escaped my mouth. “I wouldn’t have put it past him. He was a jerk most days.”

“So why’d you date him?”

I shrugged and quickly dialed a housekeeping service, not wanting to continue the conversation about my horrible taste in men. What was I supposed to tell Jude? That I purposefully dated losers to feel better about myself?

After I was done with my phone call Jude ambushed me with more questions.

“So what happened between you and Angry Man?”

“Evan. His name is Evan.”

“Evan. That name sucks, no wonder he was so angry,” he said this as he leaned his long legs out and placed his arm over the back of my chair. He took up most of the loveseat he was that big.

I tried not to think about how well-endowed he was in general as I tried to decide how much to tell him and how much not to tell him.

“Nothing really happened between us.”

“He dumped you?”

I hit him with a throw pillow.

Jude grunted. “His loss.”

I wasn’t expecting that response and I was relieved when he seemed to be distracted by the picture frames on my faux mantle.

“Who’s this?”

I got up and walked behind him. I peeked around and smiled as I took the picture from his hand.

“That’s my aunt and my cousin, Leslie.”

“You guys must be close.”

I nodded. “She raised me.”

“Oh. What happened to your parents?”

“I never knew them really.”

“I’m so sorry.”

My phone rang then and I happily answered. It was the housekeeping service calling me to confirm some information. I spoke to them briefly, glad for the reprieve. I didn’t want to talk about my parents.

“We have to get going, the housekeeper will be there in ten minutes. Someone needs to let them in.

Two hours later Jude’s loft was shiny and clean.

The guestroom was on the opposite side of the kitchen and I sat my bags in there. When I turned around I found Jude leaning up against the door with a frown on his face.

“What’s wrong?”

“Come with me.”

I followed him not knowing what was wrong. I frowned at him when he stopped in front of his bedroom door.

“Is this some pitiful form of seduction?”

“No, not at all.”

“My room’s bigger than the guest room and since you’re doing me a huge favor it only seems fair that I let you have this one.”

I loved it immediately. It was front-facing with floor to ceiling windows. But I couldn’t put him out of his own room.

“I love it,” I confessed. “But the guest room is comfortable enough.”

“Come on, take it. I want you to have it. The view is beautiful. If you’re forced to live with a slob, you might as well have the best views outside of my pigsty.”

“You have a point.”

We both turned at the same time and bumped into each other.

I wanted to reach up and touch his chest, but I didn’t. He caught my hand and looked down at it.

“You’re not wearing your ring.”

“I figured I’d just wear it in public.”

“You should wear it now... otherwise you might forget and that would make us look very suspicious. I don’t want that. Too much money is at stake.”

And then to my surprise, he reached into his pocket. The ring he pulled out was stunning.

“What?”

“Surprise.”

I felt stupid as my hands shook as I took the ring. It was small, yet elegant, tasteful and he slid it slowly on my finger.

I couldn’t say a word. I stared at it and he reached up and tucked a loose strand of my hair behind my ear.

“Much better,” he said softly.

I nodded, finding myself choked up.

“Thank you,” I said. “You shouldn’t have bothered.”

“It’s no problem, we need to make this marriage look as legitimate as possible, right? And legitimacy starts with a ring.”

He had a point, but despite our deception, I couldn't help but feel warmed by his gesture. Even if it was to mislead people, the ring was sweet and thoughtful.

I looked at his wedding band and felt bad. “You’re stuck with a crappy wedding band. I’ll get you something else.”

“I like this crappy wedding band. I’m kind of fond of it. A special lady gave it to me.”

I felt myself blushing and then he bent down and kissed my cheek, I waited with baited breath for him to kiss me, but he pulled away and said, “I’ll get your bags.”

I shook my head... maybe this farce wasn’t such a good idea after all.