A Deal With the Devil (17 page)

“George.” The man locked eyes with Jake as he slapped an aspirin bottle on the counter. “You?”

“Her fiancé,” Jake said, deciding the guy didn’t need to know anything more.

“Fiancé. Really?” George raised a brow and shot a pointed glance at Amanda. “I didn’t know you had one of those.”

Amanda cleared her throat and said, “George this is my uh, my um”—she flung her hand awkwardly in Jake’s direction— “my fiancé, Jake Lowell.”

“Really,” George said as his gaze moved back to Jake.

Amanda chewed a fingernail and her brows knit together as her gaze shifted between the two men.

“Sorry to disappoint you,” Jake said. If he thought he could make a move on Amanda while Jake just stood around and watched;
he’d
be the one sorry.

“George and I are friends from work. He wanted to make sure I got home okay.” Amanda regarded him warily—as if trying to decipher what he’d do next.

Jake decided to let her stew awhile. It served her right since she’d brought another guy home, which wasn’t exactly part of their deal. To be fair, he hadn’t outlined that clause in their contract. Still, the level to which it bothered him went way beyond their business deal and he wasn’t sure what grated on him more; that she’d brought the guy home or his own reaction to it.

“I’m sure he did.” Jake didn’t bother to mask the hint of menace in his tone.

George swept a dismissive gaze over Jake. “So the ex-boyfriend is now the fiancé. Nice. And to think it only took you a year to figure it out.”

Jake’s jaw tightened as he bit back a retort.

George leaned over and kissed Amanda’s cheek. “Take two aspirin before you go to bed so you don’t get a headache.”

Jake’s jaw clenched harder and he mustered every ounce of self-restraint to avoid grabbing the guy by the collar and shoving him out the door.

“Thanks for seeing me home.” Amanda’s smile lit her face.

Jake flinched at the sudden stab of jealousy. He couldn’t remember the last time she’d smiled at him that way.

“Anytime,” George said. He smirked at Jake as he ambled by, clearly not in a hurry.
“
I’ll let myself out.”

The door closed and a long, uncomfortable silence stretched between them. Jake rubbed his jaw, sore from all the clenching, and told himself to get a grip. A few moments later, a little more in control, he jerked a thumb toward the door and said, “Who is he?”

“I told you. He’s a friend from work.” Her voice held a hint of amusement.

“Define
friend
.”

“I think you know the definition.” Amanda tilted her head to the side. “But I’d love to know why you think my relationship with George is any of your business.” Her blue eyes issued a challenge as they peered at him over the top of her wine glass.

“We’re engaged.” In his view, her non-answer sealed the deal. Now he knew something was up. “Are you two involved?”

Her laughter seemed to mock him as she said, “Careful. You sound like a jealous fiancé and we’re not really engaged, remember?”

“Given our contract, this engagement is about as real as it gets, baby.” He looked down at her left hand and frowned. “Where’s your ring?”

She tossed her hair over her shoulder. “I decided not to wear it.”

“You decided . . .” He kept his tone calm, but inside, steam rose.

She jutted out her chin. “I wanted to pretend I still had a normal life; just for one more night.” She gazed broodingly into her glass as she swished the wine around.

“Normal as in, you brought cabana boy home for a last little fling.”

Her brows knit together. “For God’s sake, George isn’t my boyfriend or my cabana boy. He’s a friend. And I don’t like the implication I’m in the habit of bringing guys home for a romp in the sack.”

“That’s not what I implied.”

She placed a hand on her hip and said, “That’s
exactly
what you implied.”

Jake’s gaze slid over her. “You’re dressed for a date.” She looked smoking hot, too. “And it’s clear the guy has a thing for you.”

She tottered into the living room, unsteady on her feet. “That’s ridiculous. I don’t date co-workers. And I’m dressed for happy hour, not a date,” she said. “If you must know, I had a bad day and when I went to the office to arrange my leave of absence, I decided to organize a happy hour.” She flopped onto the sofa. “You’ve made my day even worse, by the way, and I didn’t think that was possible.”

Jake settled on the opposite end of the couch. “You’ve had enough to drink tonight. You can’t even walk straight.”

Amanda tucked her legs under her, causing her skirt to ride up. “A few minutes ago, I might’ve agreed with you, but you’ve killed my buzz and now I plan to finish every drop.”

He reached for her glass. “You’ll get sick if you don’t slow down.”

She snatched her hand away which caused a few droplets to slosh onto the couch. She brushed them off and glared at him. “Much as I love this Chardonnay, I won’t hesitate to toss the whole glass in your face if you don’t let me drink in peace.”

He gave up trying to reason with her and leaned back. She’d pay the consequences tomorrow. “What happened to upset you?”

Amanda’s eyes bugged out. “You mean beyond the insanity of the past week.”

Jake inclined his head. “Fair enough; but from what you said, it sounded like something in particular happened today.”

She heaved a dramatic sigh. “Well, let’s see.” She held up her index finger. “First, I took a leave of absence from work, which will probably ruin my career.” She raised a second and third finger as she continued. “Then I realized I had to marry my ex for money
and
I’ve already legally agreed it will end in divorce.” She held up a fourth finger. “Oh, and last but not least
,
I’ll turn thirty in twenty-three days.” She eyed her glass pointedly. “This would be the reason for the large quantities of wine.” She tipped her glass and a good amount slid down her throat.

“It won’t hurt to take a few months off. Your career will be fine.” He shook his head, long familiar with her drama queen routine. “As I recall, your branding job is demanding. I doubt you could deal with the realities of our agreement and
still
cope with your crazy job—especially since we have a real wedding to plan. I think the time off will do you good.

Amanda pursed her lips. “You assume I care what you think, why?”

“Listen, I didn’t make any of those decisions, you did. Yesterday, I merely suggested a leave of absence might be a good idea. Clearly you agreed, because you went through with it. And as far as marriage goes, I didn’t force the idea on you. We both heard the news from Max at the same time last night. I gave you an out. You thought everything through and decided to do it.” He jabbed a finger at her. “You decided that, not me.”

She tipped her head down and plucked a piece of lint from her skirt and then brushed it away. “I need the money. I don’t have a choice.”

“Regardless of your reasons, you have to accept responsibility for your decision. I won’t be the guy who forced you into something you didn’t want to do.”

She pushed her lower lip out and her pout reminded him of a sullen teenager.

He took a deep breath and steered the conversation in a more positive direction. “Look, I know this situation isn’t ideal, but there’s an upside for both of us. And since the stakes are higher, you should get paid more. How much will it take?”

She twirled a wayward curl. “I haven’t thought it through yet.”

“You said you’re doing it for the money, so you must have an amount in mind. Let’s hear it.”

Amanda tapped a fingernail on her glass. After a brief pause, she locked eyes with Jake. “Half a million in cash—”

He rubbed his chin as he considered the amount. Half a million dollars was a large sum, but given the magnitude of his trust, he could swing it. He supposed it’s what she should get since her life would be on hold for potentially a very long while. After all, he stood to gain the most from their deal. He’d get his new business—his future—off the ground. All she’d get is whatever cash he paid her. “That sounds fair.”

“I wasn’t finished.” She eyed him sternly. “That amount is on top of my original terms.”

Jake frowned as he did the math in his head. Seven hundred grand? “Hey wait a—”

“And I
keep
the Paris apartment.” Amanda tossed back the last of her wine and set the empty glass on the table as a look of supreme satisfaction spread across her features.

Jake jumped up. “You want seven hundred grand
and
a two-million-dollar Paris apartment my family has owned for generations?” Granted, the cash would come from his trust, but since he’d vowed to pay it all back, he didn’t intend to give her a penny more than he needed to. He wanted to be fair but his generosity had limits.

She shrugged and he detected more than a hint of cockiness in her tone as she said, “You asked what it would take and I told you. My terms are—”

“Extortion!” He glared at her.

“Fair.” She sounded infuriatingly calm. “You’re just mad because I’m a good negotiator.”

“I’m
mad
because you’re trying to take advantage” —he jabbed a thumb at his chest— “of me!”

“Stop shouting,” she sniffed. “If I have to enter a marriage that I’ve already agreed will end in divorce, then I deserve to get paid.” She lifted her chin. “You have to admit this deal isn’t how either of us should spend the next year. Our agreement is duplicitous, immoral and just plain stupid.”

He couldn’t argue with that. But trapped and desperate people tended to do stupid things. “It’s too much. I never pegged you as a gold-digger.” He didn’t really believe it; he just wanted to jolt her a little.

She sat up ramrod straight and squared her shoulders. “If you don’t like the price, then don’t buy the product. It shouldn’t be too hard to find another girl. I’m sure
Bethany
would do it for free.” Her eyes issued a challenge. “Of course, it could prove difficult to get a divorce given the way she’s always stalked you. My guess is her rich daddy would tie you up in divorce court for years.”

Jake tamped down his frustration and looked away. Amanda Wilson may be the poster child for stubborn, but she wasn’t a gold-digger. He’d known his fair share and she wasn’t among them. Bethany on the other hand, his former next door neighbor who he’d had to misfortune to date once or twice before he discovered she was loony tunes, still inspired Fatal Attraction type nightmares.

By contrast, everything about Amanda screamed independence. In fact, her complete inability to ask for or accept help from anyone irritated him beyond measure. She’d let herself die of starvation rather than tell anyone she was hungry. Hell, when she grew old and gray, she’d be far likelier to whack some poor Good Samaritan on the head with her purse than to allow him to help her across the street.

Her out-of-character behavior this evening revealed more than she’d ever confess. She felt trapped into the deal; into needing Jake’s money and so she’d over indulged. He knew from long experience; Amanda didn’t like to
need
anyone and as a result, she refused to be open to the possibility she couldn’t do everything herself. On the other hand, her behavior could have a much simpler motivation; it could be an attempt to piss him off. If so, her strategy had worked.

Amanda brushed the black pump off the pillow and it fell to the carpet. Then she shifted her body so she could lie down. “My head hurts.” She stretched out her legs and her toes just grazed Jake’s thigh. She closed her eyes and sighed. As her skirt rode up, she tugged it back down and then folded her hands on her tummy.

Jake tried not to stare at her legs. “Amanda, we’re not done talking. We haven’t agreed to terms yet.”

She opened an eye and peered at him. “We’re done for tonight. You asked for my demands; now you have them.” She closed her eye again. “You decide whether to accept them or not.”

A lock of hair fell across her cheek and Jake fought the urge to brush it away.

How one woman could inspire such a wide spectrum of emotion in such a short timeframe was beyond him. She could incite a red hot anger as easily as she could inspire searing, soul-baring passion. His emotions tended to the extreme with her, there wasn’t much in between and that emotional rollercoaster had been a big reason he’d ended their relationship. Everything between them felt too intense; too infused with emotion and Jake preferred things clean and rational. He’d chalked it up to their differences. But he knew the real reasons ran deeper. He didn’t think straight when he was around her.

Amanda emitted a delicate wheeze and her head fell to the side.

Jake shook her legs. “Wake up. We’re not done talking. I have some demands of my own and we need to get things between us settled tonight.”

She opened her eyes and sighed, her voice pure steel as she said, “We’re
definitely
done for tonight.”