-4-
Determined
“I’m sorry, you did what to him?” Atillia gawks at me, mouth hung open; eyes disbelieving.
Sitting across from her on the counter, a carton of triple chocolate death ice cream wedged protectively in my lap, I dip my spoon in a little more forcefully than is needed, saying as I do, “I thought he was an intruder.”
And then she’s laughing, bent over that giant belly of hers, not bothering to hide her amusement at my embarrassing assault. “You almost killed your fiancé.” Another round of giggles at my expense.
“I knew I should have gone to the homeless shelter instead of here. And he is not my fiancé,” I grumble, finding the bottom of the carton, my small amount of comfort gone.
My sister rolls her eyes at me, arms crossed as she settles in for a speech. I can feel it. “That was a little extreme, don’t you think? Why didn’t you go get Mom and Dad first before you went all Jackie Chan on him?”
Having no good excuse, I shrug.
She sighs, coming to stand next to me, her hand landing on my shoulder. “Sis, I know this is unfair. Believe me. But…who knows, maybe this guy is a good one.”
“Are you actually telling me I should go through with this?” If she says yes, I’ll have no one else on my side. It will literally be me against my entire family. And I don’t think I can handle that.
Her head shakes from side to side. “No. I would never tell you what to do with your life. I just don’t want to see you sad, which is what this defiance of Mom and Dad has done to you.”
I rest my head on her shoulder, her arm coming around to hug me.
She’s right. I’m depressed.
Because a hot guy wants to marry me.
Rounding the corner, my sister’s husband walks into the kitchen, stopping mid-stride when he sees us having a moment. Instantly his face turns worried, looking at his wife. “Is something wrong? Are you feeling okay?”
Atillia and I slowly begin to laugh.
He looks more confused than ever.
“Sorry, we were just talking about my screwed-up life. Other than that, nothing is wrong,” I reassure him as he comes around the counter, putting his arms around my sister. She beams up at him, smiling like she only does when he’s around.
“What do you mean?” he asks, his glasses sitting askew on his nose. Atillia fixes them.
“We were talking about her wanna-be fiancé,” she explains.
His mouth forms a perfect O. “Right. Does that mean you’ve decided yet?”
“After tonight, I don’t think the decision is even in my hands anymore.” When he still looks flummoxed, I reluctantly tell him about the worst meeting in the history of first meetings. When I’m finished, I can tell he wants to laugh, but he’s too nice to do so in front of my face.
Biting his lip, he says, “Well, you never know. All might not be lost. Maybe he has more character than you think.”
Shaking my head, I look down at my hands, my eyes always gravitating towards the scars when I think about peoples’ reactions to them. Jagger definitely noticed them, and I could tell he had tried not to show his disgust, but failed in the end. The sting felt more painful than I anticipated.
“Let’s see. I hit him in the ribs, tackled him to the ground, accidently cut his neck with a kitchen knife, and then surprise! On top of all of that, I don’t look like Adriana Lima.” I snort, thinking of all the reasons I’ll never see him again. “Yeah, I don’t see Pretty Boy coming back for seconds.” And I’m fine with that.
“Don’t sell yourself short. Not all guys are shallow, caring only about looks. And plus, finding a chick who can kick our ass is kind of a turn on,” Quincy says, smiling when Till slaps his stomach.
“Are you saying I’m not as attractive because I didn’t body slam you when we first met in Calc 101?”
His arms tighten around her, his blue eyes earnest when he looks down into hers. “Of course not, baby. But maybe had you given me a bloody nose, I would have asked you out sooner.”
I start laughing, marveling at the two of them and the weird pair they make. My sister is all beauty with a rare combination of brains, short as can be. And Quincy is the tall, lovable dork you knew in high school. The one with glasses and a calculator sticking out of his back pocket, smile crooked and hair all a mess. But my sister loved that about him, and the fact that he had substance over style; a heart as big as the moon. The guy would do anything for you, and so would my sister. That’s why they work. Both are unselfish. Unlike myself.
Truthfully, even if I did go through with marrying Jagger Wells, a part of me would always feel guilty. I wouldn’t be with him because of love, it would be because I needed to use him for my own selfish gain. And yes, I’m sure he has his own self-centered reasons for marrying a complete stranger, but for me, I couldn’t live with that. There’s a reason marriage is sacred, and it’s not because of half-assed deals made on your father’s behalf.
When my sister starts making out with her husband, that’s when I call it a night, sneaking out of the kitchen with Grim, who Atillia was kind enough to let stay in her house, and then up the stairs, walking past the open door to the nursery Quincy has been working on for months. Painted a creamy yellow with soft white clouds scattered on the sky-blue ceiling, they’ve been adding furniture, toys, clothes, and every stuffed animal there is, trying to make it special for when my niece or nephew arrives.
Stalling in the doorway, my eyes land on the crib in the corner, the blankets sitting on its edge, a fluffy little bear waiting to be played with. This is how a life with someone should look like. First you meet, fall in love, get married, have babies, and grow old together. Not meet someone, nearly kill them, and then send them packing.
With a pain starting in my lower back, I get a flashback of Jagger’s face when he was on the ground, looking up at me in stark fear. Even then he was beautiful, his skin flawless and the color of fresh honey. I definitely felt a six pack under that jacket, and his eyes looked like liquid smoke. He’s the complete package on the outside, but inside, I wonder if he would look just as perfect. I guess I’ll never know.
***
Waking up the next morning, I instantly feel the consequences of pushing myself too hard yesterday without having stretched first. It’s been a long time since I practiced my martial arts, especially on a man of Jagger’s size. Add on top of that the muscle damage I suffered as a child, which never fully healed, and it leaves me weaker than most. As much as I have tried to keep in shape over the years, I could never fully recover from the wounds I had collected. And with wanting to be an ER doctor, who’s always running here and there, it’s definitely something that is going to prove a challenge for me. But one I will gladly accept.
Taking a quick shower and regretfully having to put my dirty clothes back on, I decide to skip breakfast, instead giving my sister and brother-in law a quick hug and a thanks for letting me spend the night, and for letting Grim chill here while I’m at work, promising to pick her up afterwards. Atillia reminds me that I’m welcome to come over any time, and I’m grateful for the open invitation. Opening the front door, I find Kendall waiting for me with the car idling at the curb, having texted him to meet me here before I took my shower.
Hopping in, Ken asks me over his shoulder, “So, where to today, Miss?”
“Theodore Street, please.”
“You got it.”
Twenty minutes later we’re pulling up to a large white, concrete building, the sound of a variety of animals making a choir as they greet the car. It instantly puts a smile on my face.
“Thank you, Kendall,” I tell him as I open the door, stepping out. Turning back to look at him through the open driver’s side window, I say, “I’ll see you around four o’clock?”
“Sounds like a date.” He gives me a wink and a smile, pulling away and back onto the road.
Turning around to face the front of the building, I smile as I’m greeted with happy barks and meows.
Jagger
I don’t know anything about her, I realize as I step off the elevator onto my floor. I don’t know what she likes to eat, her favorite place to hang out, the kind of movies she watches. Literally nothing that would help me woo her. And then I wonder, is that how you get a girl? Honestly, I’ve never had an issue with attracting the opposite sex. Not to sound smug, but they usually came to me; all I had to do was give them a suggestive smile from across the room. Of course, that point in my life was years ago, and now, my skills are pretty rusty. But even if I still had my charm, this thing with the youngest Montae is completely new territory, one I have no idea how to navigate yet. And I just bet my father’s career on it.
I’m the definition of an idiot.
My frustration building as I think about what I’ve just gotten myself into, I don’t even notice Cindy as she steps out of her apartment, right into my path. Just when I’m about to run into her, I come to a stop, back up, and look down. Her contact blue eyes smile at me, lips perfectly glossed. It reminds me of how Cyvil wasn’t wearing a stitch of makeup, leaving her scars visible for all to see. That surprised me. Not only because I can’t remember the last time I saw a girl without her face made up, but because you would think of all people, she would be the most self-conscious about it. Apparently not.
“Hey, Jagger,” she says with a sly grin. “Coming from anywhere interesting?”
I shrug, wishing she would just walk past me instead of trying to flirt her way into a date every time we see each other. She’s been batting her eyes at me for months, flirting like it’s going out of style. And though it’s flattering, she’s not my type. Fake hair, fake smile, fake everything. Not for me. At least not anymore.
“Oh, just got attacked by my fiancée, nothing much.” I give her a coy smile to make it seem like I’m joking without having to tell a lie. It works.
She gives me an odd look before giggling enthusiastically, like it’s the funniest thing in the world. With a light swat at my shoulder, she says, “You’re always so sarcastic. I wonder how any girl can stand you.”
“And somehow they do. Goodnight, Cindy.” Walking past her, I don’t miss the disappointed look in her eyes, the slump of her shoulders at losing my attention. I’m sure this will only improve her resolve for next time.
Heaven help me.
Stepping into my apartment, I head straight for the bathroom, rifling through the cupboard above the sink, looking for Band-Aids. Though the cut Cyvil made wasn’t deep by any means, I still don’t want people to see it, to ask questions. Finding the box, I take one out, put it on, and wonder again why I’m doing this. This girl actually slit my throat, and I’m trying to get her to marry me. To attach her life to mine, and mine to hers. For the first time in my life I’m going to have to try to win someone over, and with a girl who hates my guts, no less. It feels like a monumental task.
Walking back out into the kitchen, I spot the file about my fiancée sitting on the counter, as unthreatening as anything could be. But the contents contain an entirely different story. And tonight, it’s going to be my homework.
When I first looked through it after my father gave it to me, I only gave it a cursory glance, picking up lines here and there. At the time, I wasn’t thinking I needed to know her life story. I thought she would already be onboard with the plan and I wouldn’t have to work too hard to get her to like me. But that was then, and this is now.
Looking down the first page, I read every line, absorb every detail this time, leaving nothing untouched. My eyes latch onto the fact that she graduated from the Mason School for Science with honors and a 4.0 grade average. She’s fluent in three languages, aside from English. She has a black belt in karate, which doesn’t surprise me, considering I got firsthand experience of it tonight. And she has one other sibling, an elder sister who is married to Quincy Devoux, owner of Devoux Techware. Now that bit of information makes me look twice. It’s the quickest growing stock in America at the moment.
The more I read, the more impressed I become. She’s quite the accomplished individual on paper. Doesn’t have a stain on her record, she volunteers at the animal shelter in her free time, and works as a medical assistant at St. Josephs. Impressive. The only thing is I don’t see anything other than her school, extracurriculars, and work records. Nothing on her hobbies, plans for the future, friends – basically anything that’s personal to her. I can’t use any of this to my advantage. Which means I’m pretty much back to square one again.
…Or am I?
Going back to the part where it mentioned her volunteering at the animal shelter, an idea slowly starts to form.
Cyvil
Walking inside, I’m greeted with the smell of animals – a tangle of cat urine and dog breath. And though it’s nauseating for some, it has slowly become my favorite smell. Because it means that the best part of my day is about to begin.
And what could possibly ruin that?
Maybe having Jagger Wells sitting on the bench next to the front desk, looking completely out of place with a kitten on his lap. That’s what. Getting over the shock of seeing him here, I then marvel at how he has his hands slightly in the air, like he’s afraid to touch the harmless kitty. It stares up at him with big blue eyes, purring as it sits there, observing him.
At hearing the bell above the door chime, his head whips in my direction, hitting me with those gray eyes.
There are a lot of things I could ask right now: Did my father send you? Can you not get a clue? Why are you holding a cat in your lap? But the one that decides to pop out of my mouth?
“Are you stalking me?”
So, not the most eloquent thing to say, or polite, but it was my foremost question. And a pretty legitimate one if you ask me, given our brief but terrible history.
The kitten jumps off his lap, sashaying its way over to me. Bending down, I pick up the fur ball, cradling her in my hands. She snuggles against my chest like it’s home.
He stands up, my memory forgetting how tall he is. I was distracted last night, too focused on yelling at my father to properly take him in. But in the light of day, his details are even more attractive, if that were possible. He wears a dark gray shirt under his motorcycle jacket, a pair of Levi’s fitting perfectly to his legs. His hair is a mess on his head, raven strands curling around his ears and forehead. I’m used to teenage boys, the ones that are kind of scrawny in that weird in-between stage of a child and a man. But Jagger…Jagger is all man.
I swallow. Hard.
“No. Not stalking,” he says, trying to sound lighthearted, but the look in his eyes says otherwise. He’s unsure about being here, I can tell.
“Then how did you find me?” And more importantly, why?
“I did a little digging. Is there anything wrong with that?” His hands are in his pockets, looking like the picture of ease when Sue walks in, my boss and also the sweetest granny you’ll ever meet. Always dressed in some kind of ugly crocheted vest and a turtleneck, she’s the most unassuming person you’ll ever meet. But under it all she’s a complete flirt, the worst I’ve ever seen. When she spots me near the door with the specimen that is Jagger, she gives me a naughty wink and a thumbs up behind his back.
I should have known the cougar would betray me for a guy with a nice ass.
“Depends on what you found,” I say in response, just as Sue walks around the counter, an unnaturally large smile coming to her lips.
“So, you found her,” she says to Jagger, her voice too chipper for the scowl I’m aiming at her.
“Yes, I did.” He’s back to staring at me, the effort he’s putting into not looking at my scars almost amusing. Almost.
“Sue, why is he here?” I ask her, my voice sounding tight. No one knows about the ultimatum outside my family. Meaning I can’t really be mad at her for not knowing who he is, or how awkward a situation I’m in right now, but still. Some guy comes in here asking for me, and because he has a pretty face she doesn’t ask questions?
“Jagger here came in this morning asking when you’d be in. I said he was free to wait until you got here.” Her face is totally innocent, but her blue eyes sparkle. She’s loving this right now. Probably because she’s been telling me for years it would be a good thing if I found a man. And then Jagger walks in, asking for me, and she must have thought her prayers were answered.
Yeah, they were answered alright.
By Satan.
“And so you handed him a kitten to pass the time?” I nod down at the orange long hair who is now asleep in my hands.
She shrugs. “Who doesn’t like to hold kittens?”
By the look on Jagger’s face, I’d say him.
Shaking my head, I hand Ginger the kitten to Sue, saying, “Mind giving us a minute? I’ll go feed the dogs when we’re done.”
Giving me a disappointed pout of her lips, she says grudgingly, “Alright. But I want every detail, girly.” She waggles those gray brows at me, causing Jagger to snicker since he was close enough to hear her ridiculously loud whispering.
Ugh.
Sue leaves the room, the sound of barks and meows filling the air as Jagger and I stare at each other, silent. I start to say, “Did my dad put you up to this?” the moment he says, “I wanted to explain myself after last night.”
Silence again.
I take a deep breath, feeling a headache coming on. “Look, Jagger, I’m sorry about what happened.” My eyes go to the small band-aid on his neck, making me feel another wave of guilt. “But I’m not changing my mind. And whatever it is my father promised you –”
“Whoa, slow down,” he says as he takes another step towards me, hands raised in surrender. “Your father didn’t send me, and this isn’t another marriage proposal. I just wanted to come by and apologize for scaring you last night. I picked your parents up at the airport, came to your house, and was told to wait in the guest house until you got home. It wasn’t my intention to come off as creepy. That’s all I wanted to tell you.”
“And you had to do it in person?” My mother must have told him where I was, I realize. That’s the only way he could have known. And I bet she was the one who suggested he come here himself instead of using a perfectly good phone.
“I don’t like texting or phone calls. Not for something like this.” Another step closer.
I nod. “Apology accepted. Is that all?” Please say it is, please go away, please don’t make me look at your gorgeous face for two more seconds, please…
He doesn’t answer. Instead his eyes do a sweep of the small waiting room, asking, “How long have you worked here?”
“I’m just a volunteer.”
This makes him smirk. “Okay then, how long have you volunteered here?”
There is no reason for him to be asking me questions. There’s no reason for him to be here in the first place. After last night, I figured I had sufficiently ended this deal with him. But somehow, he’s back, making me tell him about my life.
He must really need that check.
“A while,” I answer vaguely.
He tilts his head at me. “Not much of a sharer, are you?”
Good, he’s catching on. “No, I’m not.”
I swear I hear him utter something along the lines of This is going to be harder than I thought, under his breath, making me ask, eyes narrowed, “What did you say?”
“Where do you keep the dogs?”
Yeah, that is so not what he said.
“In kennels. Why aren’t you leaving?” He’s making me uncomfortable now. The loitering and dodging questions about his presence doesn’t settle well with me.
“Because I was promised a tour.” He rolls back on his heels, a smile plastered on his face as he says this. It still looks forced.
“I never did such a thing.”
“But Sue did.”
“Then she can do it. I have work to do.”
Officially done with this conversation, I turn my back on him and open the door Sue escaped through earlier, walking into the area where we keep the kennels along with the cat room. Moving to the left, I open the storage closet, shaking my head in disbelief as I pick up the food bowl tower on the floor, placing it on the counter. Next to the cabinets is the dog food, stored in a large metal garbage can, a giant scoop hidden inside. I begin giving each bowl its correct portion, continuing to be baffled over Jagger Wells’ presence in my safe haven. Now every time I come in for my shift, I’m going to be on pins and needles, wondering if he’s going to be lurking inside. I can only hope this was a bizarre, one-time thing.
“What are you doing?” His smooth voice comes from behind me, making me jump, spilling kibble all over the counter.
“What are you still doing here?” I grumble, beginning to pick up handfuls of spilled food. “You can’t be back here. It’s employees only.”
“But you said you’re a volunteer?”
You know what? I take it back. I should have killed him in my living room when I had the chance.
Spinning around to face him, I’m not prepared for how close he is. Close enough that my nose almost gets smashed against his chest. I stumble back into the counter, the room feeling too small, claustrophobic.
“Need help?” he asks, unaffected by it all.
“No.”
“You sure? That’s a lot of bowls.”
“Jagger.”
“Yes?”
“Please leave.”
He tilts his head to the side again, dark eyes narrowed in confusion. He actually seems mystified that someone of the opposite sex is annoyed by his presence. Maybe if he stood there and didn’t talk I wouldn’t mind, but… No. I’d still be annoyed.
“What?” he says, looking a little less confident now.
“You heard me. This is my happy time, and no offense, but I don’t need reminded of my screwed-up life by having you hang around me all day.” I grab as many bowls as I can carry and push past him out into the hall lining the kennels. One by one I shove the bowls through the slots, saying hello to each of my charges, giving them a scratch on the ear through the feeding doors. It gives me a small amount of peace.
But then I feel his presence behind me again, and it disappears just like that.
“Your happy time consists of hanging around drooling dogs, and cats that would rather bite you than be pet?” His tone lets me know he thinks I’m a lunatic.
Whatever.
Done feeding the dogs, I open another door at the end of the hall and walk into the cat room, not looking to see if he follows. Just like the name suggests, it’s a large room filled with cats. There are climbing trees and scratch posts, toy mice and laser pointers for playing. For the dogs we have a giant fenced in area out back with similar, fun activities to drain some of their pent-up energy. Most days I spend hours just playing with them, giving them the kind of love and attention they all deserve. That’s why it’s the best part of my day. Because I’m surrounded by creatures who love me for me. They don’t look at my scars, laugh at them, cringe at them, or say rude things about them. Animals don’t notice when you’re different. They just love you because you show them love back. They’re simple, uncomplicated. Two of my favorite things.
As soon as I walk in, I see Hanna sitting on one of the chairs, playing with a kitten named Carlos. Her head pops up at hearing me enter, greeting me with a smile before her eyes catch onto my new parasite that is probably right behind me.
Hanna is a nice girl, a few years older than myself and a fellow volunteer. She’s studying to become a vet, and her schooling comes in handy here quite often. She’s one of the few people I can call a friend. Other than Traitor Sue, that is.
“So, who’s the new recruit?” she asks with a too happy grin, still looking at him while a chorus of meows fills the air, making me smile as each of the fifteen cats we have pool at my feet, looking up at me with big eyes and eager tails. They know who feeds them.
Walking over to the feed bin, my parade of cats following me, I open up the cabinet and take out their food. With a huff, I say, “He’s not a new volunteer.” Just like with the dogs, I fill bowls, dispose of them in the feeding corner, and go about cleaning and refilling water bowls while the cats have their breakfast. Hanna is in charge of cleaning the litter boxes and putting away the toys. We all have a schedule we follow, making it even.
Standing up from my last water refill, I find Jagger in the doorway, refusing to step over the threshold; a green look on his face as he studies the cats. I don’t think I’ve ever seen someone who disliked animals so much.
Just another thing we don’t have in common.
Hanna asks him, ignoring his odd behavior, “Okay then. What’s your name, non-volunteer?”
He closes his eyes, slowly opening them again, like he’s nauseous or something. “What?”
Hanna and I look at each other.
“Are you going to be sick?” I ask, kind of worried he’s about to puke all over the cats. I do not want to clean that up.
“Not sure.” He coughs into his jacket sleeve. “How do you do this?” he asks us both.
“Do what?”
“Be around these things all day.” He gives the cats a wincing look.
I shake my head at him, Hanna chuckling as she continues petting cats.
Realizing I haven’t introduced her yet, I say, “Jagger, this is Hanna, another of our volunteers. Hanna, this is Jagger Wells.”
He nods at her. Barely.
She smiles, amused. “Well if you’re not an aspiring volunteer, then what is it that you do, Jagger?”
Good question. It was the one thing on his file that I couldn’t find, and arguably the one I wanted to know about the most.
He sneezes.
Feeling a tail swish at my legs, I look down to see who wants my attention while we wait for Jagger to get over his fur ball attack. Staring up at me is Twinkle, a beautiful gray short hair and one of our long time residents. Her owners brought her in when they had to move across the country and couldn’t take her with them. With age, she’s lost an eye to cancer, her movements slowed from arthritis, but she still loves a cuddle, which I never refuse her.
Picking her up, I hold her with one hand while I scratch her ear with the other. Her eye closes in contentment, purring happily.
“What, do you have some kind of weird animal mojo these things pick up on or something?” Just as Jagger says this, his eyes watching Twinkle and I uncomfortably, Keke, one of our feistier kitties, walks up to him, sniffing his shoes curiously. The cat hisses at him when they make eye contact.
I do a good job of holding in my laughter.
“It’s true,” Hanna says, nodding at me. “This girl here can make just about any animal fall in love with her. Even an ornery, pot-belly pig once.”
“Hey, Walter was just misunderstood,” I defend, making Hanna snort.
Looking back at Jagger, I don’t think he heard us. He was too busy flicking his hand at Keke, saying “Shoo.” It only succeeds at making the cat raise its hackles at him.
Yeah. I should get him out of here.
Taking Twinkle with me, I tell Hanna I’ll be back in a little while, leaving the cats to their meal as I walk back out the door, knowing Jagger will happily follow.
Finding our way to the front desk again, I turn around to face him. At least some of the color has returned to his bronze skin with no longer being around the felines. “Jagger, I –”
“So, how did the tour go?” Sue asks as she magically reappears, her smile too suggestive.
“I don’t know,” he says, itching at his eyes, which are slightly red now. “Is there more to it than just cats and dogs?” I swear he shivers at saying their names.
“Why of course there’s more!” she says enthusiastically, totally missing his sarcasm. “Cyvil, why don’t you show him the running area for the dogs out back? There’s some beautiful trees to sit under, too.” No joke, she actually wiggles her white eyebrows at me. While he’s looking.
Kill me now.
“Better idea. Why don’t you show him, and I’ll go die in a hole somewhere?” I suggest, my smile full of plastic.
He chuckles.
I ignore it.
Sue gives me that disappointed, heartbroken look again, the one that always makes me crumble. But I’m not letting it get to me this time. I’m not.
Her eyes turn sad, pleading. Grandmotherly.
Dammit.
“Fine.” I hold Twinkle a little bit closer, and reading my anger, she rubs her nose against my hand, trying to make me feel better.
Walking past my traitorous fairy godmother, whom is going to get an earful from me later, I lead Jagger out into the backyard, hearing him tell Sue it was a pleasure to meet her as we go. She returns the sentiment in a syrupy voice, saying the pleasure was all hers. Jeez, why doesn’t she just marry him for me?
Stepping out onto the grass, I breathe a lungful of clean air, helping to calm me. It’s a beautiful day, the sun shining down through the canopies of the large oak trees, the wind warm and soothing. I close my eyes to it all as I sit down on the closest bench, a perfect overlook of the dog park. I get so caught up in the comfort of it that I nearly forget I have company.
“You really love this place, don’t you?” he says quietly, almost to himself.
I turn to look at him, placing Twinkle down between us. She eventually curls herself into a ball and quickly falls asleep with me stroking her head.
“I do,” I admit.
“Is that what you want to do then? Help animals?”
I think about it, then nod. “For the time being, yes.”
“And what does your future want?” He looks sincere, like he actually wants to know. And that’s when my wall goes back up. I almost forgot who he is, why he’s here, and that this entire situation is on someone else’s behalf.
“Not a wedding,” I answer honestly, gently. Truth be told, I’m not a bitch. Okay, sometimes I’m a bitch. But Jagger doesn’t deserve a harsh let down. There’s no need to be rude about it, like I was earlier. I just want it to get through to him that this isn’t what I want, what I had planned for myself. It’s not him I’m turning away, but the future he represents. The one my father has set for me.
He nods slowly, looking out over the park. I can’t read his expression.
“I get it,” he says after a minute. “You have a lot of living to do yet.”
This makes my brows narrow. “And you don’t?”
He says nothing.
That’s when I decide to ask the big question. The one that’s been on my mind since my parents told me about my impending marriage.
“Why are you doing this?”
He finally looks at me, and I almost wish he hadn’t. Because he looks…lost. Sad. But then he schools his expression and it’s gone, replaced by a false mask of innocence. “Doing what?”
“What has my father promised you to marry me?”
He knew what I was asking from the beginning, but he still pretends to be surprised by the question. “What makes you think he promised me anything?”
I give him an insulted look, because I am. I’m not stupid. I know there’s no way a guy like him would marry a complete stranger without some kind of bounty in return. “It’s basic logic, eye for an eye,” I say instead of, because no one would willfully marry a monster.
He pauses for too long, stares at the ground too hard. He knows that I know the truth, and there’s no point in lying anymore. We might as well be open and honest about it all.
“My father’s company is going under,” he says eventually, still looking at the ground, jaw tight. Maybe even slightly ashamed. “Your dad offered to bail him out if I married you.”
I should be surprised, hurt. Disappointed. But the fact that my father used me as a commodity isn’t as shocking as what he just implied. “So you’re willing to marry me just to save your dad’s business?” I have to say, I didn’t see that coming. I figured my father had found him randomly and offered him a buyout. Not his father. He’s literally getting nothing out of this deal for himself.
“I love my family,” is all he says in answer, looking out at the park again, and I nod. Because I get it. I really do.
“Jagger,” I say, feeling my throat go dry. I hate to do this, especially after hearing about his real reason for going through with my father’s plan, but I have to. “I respect your selflessness, your loyalty to your family. And I’m sorry about your father’s business. If I had any money myself I would happily give it to you to replace my father’s deal, but…I can’t marry you.”
What I never expected from that depressing little speech was to get a smile out of him. Well, not so much a smile, but more of a grin. He aims it at me. “You’re a capable girl. I respect that. I also respect your decision. It’s completely your choice, no matter what your father says or mine.” He pauses, hands knotting themselves together in front of him. “I guess what I’m saying is…we don’t have to do this right now. We’re not getting married tomorrow. You can have as much time as you want. All I’m asking is that you give it a chance. Get to know me, let me get to know you. And maybe – maybe we can be friends.”