“Where’s your head today?” my business partner Jack said to me from his seat on the opposite side of my desk. “I need you to focus on this contract, which has to go out within hours.”

“Sorry,” I said. “Too many thoughts buzzing around in my head to focus.”

“Talk to me,” Jack said. “Tell me what’s on your mind.”

I stood up from my desk, walked to the glass wall of my spacious corner office, and gazed over the rooftops of Manhattan. While I owned the majority of Kingsley Technologies, Jack was a significant shareholder as well. We’d been best buddies since rowing crew together in college, and from the day that he’d joined me at Kingsley Tech, two years after I started it, we’d run the company together. Over the years since, he’d become my closest friend. Like me, he was a confirmed bachelor with good looks, a full head of hair, and the kind of build that got women’s attention. We often began evenings barhopping together, splitting off when either of us spotted a woman we wanted to pursue.

“Remember my sister Cara’s wacky idea?” I said.

“How could I forget?” Jack said with a chuckle. “Your sister adores you, and she’d cut off her right arm for you—but Ronan Kingsley married? I’ve got a pretty good imagination, but it doesn’t go that far.”

I turned to face him. “Last night Cara dragged me to Blacktail to meet the wife she’s picked out for me—her best friend from college, Ava Walker.”

“That sounds awkward.”

“It was—for the first few minutes. But then Cara left us, and I told Ava I wasn’t seriously considering the marriage idea; she said that she felt the same way, and we ended up chatting about movies over steak and fries. She was good company, and I enjoyed having dinner with her.”

“Sounds like you dodged a bullet,” Jack said.

“That’s what I thought too,” I said as I sat back down at my desk. “But afterward, on the taxi ride home, I started wondering if Cara’s idea could actually work.”

Jack gave me a knowing look. “This Ava chick must be seriously hot.”

“It’s not that,” I said. “I mean, she’s a beautiful woman, in a young Demi Moore kind of way. Tall, dark, slender, and the same age as my sister. But Ava’s looks weren’t what struck me about her.”

“Understood,” Jack said. His green eyes twinkled with amusement. “You like your women blond—and stacked. But if it wasn’t her looks that grabbed you, what was it?”

“I don’t know how to explain it,” I said. “She was just so normal. Talking to her was easy—she’s smart, and she has a good sense of humor. And she’s a class act—articulate, knows how to dress, and a Harvard graduate.”

Jack laughed. “Ava sounds like the kind of girl your father and stepmother would pick out for you.”

“They’d prefer an heiress, but in every other respect, Ava fits the bill. And a spoiled society princess is out of the question. Way too high maintenance.”

“But you think Ava could pass Veronica’s inspection?”

“That’s the genius of it,” I said. “I think she could. If we agreed to live separate lives and file for divorce when I turn thirty-five, getting married could actually work.”

“Time out,” Jack said. “If you’re serious about this, we need to talk pros and cons. There’s one huge pro—fifty million bucks—and a hell of a lot of cons. You and Ava would have to fool Veronica, which means that the marriage would have to look real. Ava would need to move in with you. You’d have to live with her for two years.”

“My condo’s big enough to give us both plenty of privacy,” I said. “And I don’t think Ava would be a difficult roommate.”

“That’s a plus,” Jack said. “What about your sex life?”

“I always use hotel rooms, anyway.”

“What about her sex life?”

“That’s a good point,” I said. “We’d both have to agree not to bring anyone home.”

“I assume she’s not seeing anyone serious at the moment,” Jack said. “But we’re talking two years. What if she meets someone?”

“According to Cara, Ava’s not looking for a relationship. She broke off an engagement with some douche named Brian two years ago, and since then, she’s been focused on her work.”

“What would be her motivation to marry you?”

“A check big enough to save her floral-design business from going under,” I said. “The business is based in Dumbo, and it’s just her. She didn’t strike me as the greedy type, either. I doubt she’d ask for more than a hundred grand or so, but I’d offer her a million.”

“That’s generous,” Jack said.

“I’d be asking for two years of her life. If she carries off a fake marriage for that long, she’s earned it.”

Jack’s expression turned serious. “I don’t want to push you into anything—but I hate the thought of laying off half our workforce. We’ve spent years recruiting the best people, and losing them can’t help but set us back.”

“So you think I should do it?”

“It’s your decision—and I’ll support whatever decision you make. But if you marry Ava and tap your trust fund within the next sixty days, that would give us the cash to get the company through this rough patch—and the business would be able to pay you back when the Asian contracts start paying off next year.”

“I need to think about it more,” I said. “But if I decide to go forward with marrying Ava, I’ll need your help with drafting an agreement for us both to sign.”

“You’ll also need to talk Ava into it,” Jack said. “Didn’t you say that she thought it was a crazy idea, too?”

“She did,” I said. “It’s more than likely that she’ll turn me down, at least initially. But I can’t see any other way of putting my hands on the amount of money we need. And Ava’s reliable—Cara’s known her for ten years. If I convince Ava to marry me, and we sign an agreement, she’ll uphold her end of the bargain.”

Jack rose from his chair. “When you come to a decision, let me know.” He pointed at the contract sprawled across my desk. “And get that back to me no later than two o’clock with whatever changes you want. OK?”

“No problem,” I said as Jack headed toward the door of my office. “I’ll get it done.”

After he left, I resumed my work on the contract, but as I marked the pages with edits and corrections, a single thought kept circling through my mind.

How could I convince Ava to marry me?