A Deal With the Devil (13 page)

She could still back out. Maybe. She bit her lip and tried to remember if their contract included an out clause. As her eyes drifted to his face, she swallowed hard and searched for the right words to say to him.

“Open it,” he said, back to his normal cool, relaxed demeanor. He seemed completely unaware of her inner turmoil.

She looked down at the box, in part to conceal her anguish as she said, “Jake, I . . . do we have to—” She glanced up at him and held it out, willing him to take it as her eyes pleaded with him to understand.

“If we want this to look real, we do.” His expression made it clear he’d broach no arguments. “Open it. Go on.”

She drew in a long breath and opened the box to reveal the largest, most ostentatious diamond ring she’d ever seen. “Jake! This is too . . . too over the top for this thing we’re doing.”

“It’s necessary,” Jake said. “My grandfather will expect a ring of this magnitude. Put it on.”

She lifted the cushion-cut diamond ring from its velvet perch and slipped it on her finger. Then, she turned her hand and inspected the setting from different angles. Delicate pave stones embedded in platinum surrounded the oversized center diamond which appeared to be at least four carats. She based this estimate on Kate’s ring, which equaled two and a half carats and wasn’t nearly as large as this. The ring looked so completely outrageous; it actually seemed the perfect symbol of their engagement sham.

“It’s a little much, don’t you think?” She didn’t know whether to grin at his audacity or cry at such an over-the-top mockery of her former hopes and dreams. “Besides, I thought you didn’t have any money.”

He shrugged.

She cleared her throat and tried to pretend it didn’t bother her in the least. “I hope Tiffany’s has a good return policy,” she declared with a toss of her hair.

“It’s on loan. In instances like this, being a Lowell comes in handy. Are you ready?”

She nodded, but she didn’t feel ready. The unmistakable weight of heavy platinum encircled her finger like a noose, making her feel like she was being led to the gallows. Her jitters morphed into a mild case of nausea. She pressed a palm to her queasy stomach and briefly considered a dash to the bathroom. She might need to throw up.

“Are you okay?” Jake regarded her with concern. “You’re white as a sheet.”

She wasn’t. But she nodded, because she didn’t have any other choice but to be okay. She’d signed a contract and now, to use one of Kate’s favorite phrases, it was time to put on her big girl stilettos.

This deal might be hard to contend with, but it would be worth the emotional price she might pay. Worth it because their agreement had delivered a financial freedom she feared might never come—at least not for a very long time. Now she wouldn’t need to repay her debts over the next ten or twenty years. As of this morning, most of her debt was—as Kate would say—gone, pfft, finito. She just needed to fulfill her end of the bargain and deliver a world class performance tonight. And for her own sanity, she needed to keep her distance and not be seduced into thinking of Jake as anything more than her fake fiancé. They weren’t the couple in love they’d once been, no matter what they portrayed to others. They weren’t anything but business partners and she’d do well to remember that.

As they walked outside, Jake hailed a cab and a nearly-silent fifteen minutes later; the car pulled up in front of Max’s Gold Coast condominium. They strolled across the lobby and into the elevator where Jake punched a code into the keypad. It whisked them to the sixtieth floor, where the bell sounded and the doors opened and they stepped into the travertine-tiled foyer of Maxwell Chesterfield Lowell’s penthouse.

A butler took their coats and ushered them into the living room where a fire blazed and the soothing strains of classical music surrounded them. Beige silk draperies framed floor to ceiling windows that showcased the twinkling skyline of downtown Chicago.

“Nice digs, huh?” Jake spoke in an exaggerated whisper.

She elbowed him in the ribs. “
Behave
yourself.”

Jake gestured broadly. “Believe it or not, I’d much rather be in a barracks in Iraq.”

She expelled a long sigh. “Let’s not start—”

“Amanda my dear, it’s wonderful to see you.” Maxwell Lowell’s scotch and cigar-honed rasp preceded him into the room.

Here we go. Amanda smiled stiffly, hating to have to lie to him. “Hello Max.”

Max reached for her hands and squeezed. “It’s been far too long.” He kissed each cheek and then stood back and beamed. “You look lovely.” He cast a glance at Jake and then turned back to Amanda, his blue eyes twinkling. “I’m absolutely delighted my grandson finally came to his senses. I knew it would only be a matter of time. Lowell men never let the right woman slip from their grasp.”

She laughed. But even to her own ears, it sounded forced. She hoped he didn’t notice or if he did, chalked it up to nerves.

“Please make yourselves comfortable; dinner isn‘t quite ready.” He tapped the sofa next to him. “Amanda, please sit near me.”

She obliged.

A member of Max’s staff took their drink order.

Max reached for her ring finger. “It’s exquisite.” His smile didn’t quite reach his eyes as he turned to Jake. “I hoped . . .
thought . . .
you’d choose one of your grandmother’s pieces.”

Jake shook his head. “This ring is more Amanda’s style.”

It wasn’t, but she kept the sentiment to herself. She would have chosen a classic, vintage style instead of the contemporary ring he’d selected and she would have absolutely adored wearing a piece from his grandmother’s collection had their engagement been the real thing.

“Have you set a date?” Max’s bright blue eyes danced.

Amanda glanced at Jake and then back at Max. “We haven’t decided yet.”

Max squeezed her hand. “Well don’t let the decision linger, dear. In my experience, long engagements don’t tend to work out very well.”

The butler returned with their drinks.

“Actually, we do plan to have a long engagement,” Jake said as he unbuttoned his jacket and settled into the chair across from them. “I need to get my business off the ground first.”

Max shifted his gaze to Jake. “Since you’re out of the Navy, I hoped you’d consider joining Lowell Media. I plan to retire soon and I’d like to pass leadership to you.”

Amanda sipped her wine and noticed Jake tense. She tensed as well and hoped he wouldn’t start an argument.

“I’m sure Uncle Leonard will handle the responsibility just fine.” He tipped back his glass and swallowed a third of his scotch and soda.

“Your grandmother’s brother isn’t CEO material. Your father could have been if he’d put his mind to it. Unfortunately there were too many other distractions. You’re different. I’d like to leave the company in your hands, Jacob.”

Jake’s jaw tightened. “We’ve discussed this more times than I can count.”

Max sniffed. “You enjoyed your post as Naval Commander. This level of corporate leadership is really no different.”

Jake swished his drink and the ice tinkled as it knocked against the leaded crystal. “I guess. Except it’s not the Navy and it wouldn’t be doing anything that matters.”

Max lifted his chin. “Technology matters. It changes people’s lives.”

“Cable television does not change lives.”

“We do more than cable TV. There’s the Internet division, phone and we purchased a wireless company a few months ago. Communications is the future. If you took control, there’s no telling where you could take the business. Our longer-term plans involve a satellite division and if you chose, you could even develop some military contracts.”

Jake scoffed. “Lowell Media is about entertainment. My business is going to transform lives, families. It’s going to make a difference. That’s far more important; to me anyway.”

Silence stretched between them as Max leaned back in his chair, steepled his fingers and tapped them as he regarded Jake. “Please, share your business plans.”

“My business will help veterans rebuild their lives. VA benefits only go so far and actually, after the wars in Iraq and Afghanistan, they come up woefully short as it relates to mental health concerns. My business plan will reach well beyond veteran’s programs so they can move forward.”

Max inclined his head as considered Jake’s words.

Amanda looked from one to the other. She wished she could kick off her shoes, curl her legs up and watch the two men work through their differences. So alike, they had the same erect posture and proud manner. And, on the downside, the same stubborn attitudes. Jake imagined himself nothing like his grandfather, when in reality he seemed cut from exactly the same cloth.

“Lowell Media has a foundation,” Max said. “Perhaps we could fund—”

“No!” Jake jumped up, his fists clenched. He stormed halfway to the wall of windows before he calmed down. A few moments later, he returned to the sofa, once again in control, but his set jaw indicated he’d barely reigned in his emotions. “Thanks, but I plan to use outside investors. I have a meeting with the Rand Connelly’s investment group on Monday. You know Rand. Sam’s brother.”

“Of course,” Max said. And after a brief pause, he added, “You weren’t planning to ask me.” Regret and disappointment looked etched into his features.

Amanda glared at Jake. If he’d been closer, she would have whacked him in the shin so hard he wouldn’t have walked for a week. Instead, her eyes locked on him like lasers, trying to wordlessly shame him into a more pleasant demeanor.

Jake glanced at her, his expression hard and unreadable. He looked about to speak when the butler came in and announced dinner.

They all stood and made their way to the dining room. Jake caught up with Amanda and offered his arm. She looped her arm through his, but her pleasant demeanor hid a seething anger. “Behave yourself,” she hissed. To emphasize the extent of her displeasure, she pinched his forearm as hard as she could.

“Ouch.”

“Next time, I’ll kick you,” she whispered. “Or stomp your foot with my stiletto.”

“Thanks for the warning,” Jake whispered into her ear as he pulled out her chair. His arm brushed against her, sending a shiver down her spine. She surreptitiously rubbed her arm to stop the tingling and refused to look at him for the rest of the meal.

The trio ate in near silence. At first, Amanda tried to make small talk, but neither man seemed keen to participate so after a few awkward attempts, she gave up. After dinner, they moved back to the living room where Max lit a cigar and took a seat near the fire. Amanda and Jake settled in across from him.

After a long, uncomfortable silence, Jake said, “There is something you can do to help.”

Max flicked his ashes into a crystal tray. “I’d be delighted. What can I do?”

“Since Amanda and I are engaged, you could help cut through the legal red tape on the trust. If we leave it to the lawyers, it might take a while.”

Max frowned. “What does your engagement have to do with your trust fund?”

“Well, your lawyer called last Thursday and told me the terms of the trust had been changed; that I have to get engaged before I get access.” Jake cast a nervous smile at Amanda as he rested a hand on her knee. But it wasn’t resting. It now gripped her thigh so hard she feared it would leave a bruise.

Amanda pasted on an overly bright smile and placed her hand over his in what she hoped would appear a show of solidarity, but she was really trying to pry his fingers loose.

“Jacob, there’s been a misunderstanding. You get access to the trust when you marry, not when you get engaged.”

Amanda drew in a sharp breath and nearly dropped her wine glass as her head snapped around to Jake.

“Married?” Jake’s eyes bugged out and it sounded like he was being strangled.

Married? Holy crap! Amanda chugged down half her wine.

To Jake’s credit, he rallied fast. “But it . . . it’s going to be awhile before we marry, given the new business and all. Can’t you do something to release the funds now? I planned to use some of my trust to start the business.”

Max appeared to consider Jake’s request as he slowly expelled a stream of fragrant smoke. “I designed the stipulation to be irreversible,” he said, inspecting his cigar. “If you need the money now, I suggest you rethink the long engagement.”

Jake’s eyes grew dark. “So you won’t help me.”

Max’s gaze shifted briefly from Amanda to Jake and she thought she detected a gleam in Max’s eye as he said, “You don’t need my help, Jacob. All you have to do is say I do.”

* * *

She folded her arms across her chest and spoke in as stern a tone as she could muster. “For the third and last time, I’m not marrying you.”

Jake stopped pacing and spread his arms wide, a wild look in his eye as he shouted, “Hey, I don’t want to get married either!”

“Good. It’s settled.” For the last hour, she feared he might seriously consider the idea. “And by the way, you don’t need to yell. I’m sitting right here.”

He started pacing again. “Nothing is settled and we’re in this thing together, so I suggest
you”—
he pointed at her for emphasis— “start helping me figure a way out of this mess.”