A Wedding to Remember: Switched at Marriage Part 1 (2 page)

He gave me a deadpan, death-eye stare as rain beaded on his dark hair like he was some kind of duck. "Don't blame me. I'm just the messenger." He slid into the SUV and drove away in a cloud of spray.

I slammed my window shut and grabbed the paperwork again. What in the world? Where was rock bottom? I sat down to read the documents more carefully, looking for important details. Like just who was supposed to be divorcing me.

Kayla Lucas, blah blah blah, legalese, legalese. More lawyerly junk. Ah, here we go—Justin Green.

Justin Green?
No way! Someone
had
to be pranking me.

"Dex!" I said out loud. "I'll get you for this."

My cousin was known for his epic pranks. He'd vowed to get me back for something I
may
have done to him just before I graduated. I'm not admitting to anything, of course.

Dex was a few years younger than me. We'd gone to the same university. Justin was one of his nerdy, brainiac friends. And now, ironically, given his lack of style, the cofounder of one of the most fashionable, and successful, startups in Seattle, Flashionista.com.

My family was pretty close. I would bet my splurge coat that Dex had already heard about my breakup with Eric. Any time I was depressed about Eric, my mom called his mom to worry about me. They were sisters and about as different as they could be, but very close. Dex, being friends with Justin, was well aware of the crush Justin had had on me in college. And how I hadn't reciprocated it. I thought Justin was terminally sweet, but not my kind of guy. Because my kind of guy, apparently, was a douchebag.

Justin and I had the world's tiniest past, if you can even call one class in college a past. He was a skinny, short, gawky, geeky guy who looked too young to be out of junior high, let alone away at college by himself. The guys made fun of him. And picked on him. Bullied him, really. But he was genius smart and managed to get back at them in very clever ways. Which I secretly admired.

Dex, who was a geek boy himself, teased me about Justin being my boyfriend. Dex's words came back to haunt me. "Give it up! If you were smart, you would take advantage of his misplaced affection for you and marry him, Lala. I think he has potential. Maybe he'll even grown an inch or two so you can wear your prized heels around him."

Even though I was only five foot five, in heels, I towered over poor Jus. I remembered rolling my eyes and laughing at Dex. "My height doesn't bother me. I'm confident being taller than the guy."

Dex shook his head like he didn't believe me. "Uh-huh. That explains Eric and all the dumb, tall jocks you go for. Take it from your cousin, who loves you, baby, Justin's going to be rich. Obscenely rich. You spend like there's no tomorrow. You're going to need a husband who's loaded. Better get him now before his money makes him irresistible."

I hadn't believed in Dex's prophetic abilities. Until Justin struck it rich in the online flash sale industry and became a billionaire last month when the company went public. I'd read about it on the news.

The thing was, I would have loved to work at Flashionista. They were cutting-edge trendsetters. Their buyers were ahead of the curve, spotting what would soon be hot and capitalizing on it while prices were still affordable. They sold the absolute hottest, got-to-have boutique, and commercial, fashions in their daily flash sales. For unbelievably low prices. If you weren't on their site at six a.m. when the deals went live, you missed the best stuff.

I had the knack. I could do it, too. They were growing like crazy. I would love to work as buyer for them. Half of my generation of Seattleites wanted to work there, especially those, like me, for whom fashion merchandising was a passion. I may have mentioned it to Dex.

I cocked an eyebrow. "Ha ha, Dex. You think you are
so
funny!"

This was epic, as he would say. He'd gone to a lot of trouble, I gave him that much credit. The legal documents looked genuine. But then, you can get legal documents on any number of websites. And the big paper-serving guy? Dex could afford to pay him to play the part. His dad was loaded.

Justin Green, the most eligible nerd in Seattle, billionaire boy genius, divorcing me was a prank only someone like Dex would think up. Damn him! I was going to get him back.

When I'd been in class with Justin, I'd been lost in the middle of my two thousand days with Eric. So totally, stupidly, preoccupied with Eric that I barely noticed any other guy. But, to be honest, even if there had been no Eric, I wouldn't have noticed Justin. As I said, he wasn't the kind of guy girls drooled over, as superficial as that sounded.

I tried to suppress a grin, and lost. Then I broke out into a full-blown smile. My shoulders shook. I covered my mouth with my hands as a giggle escaped. I mean, how could I laugh at a time like this? My world was completely in the toilet.

My sides started shaking. I wrapped my arms around myself, but I still couldn't hold it in. A laugh escaped. And another. I laughed. And laughed. And laughed until my sides hurt and my eyes watered. Until tears ran down my cheeks and I felt better than I had in months.

I wiped my cheeks and eyes with the back of my hand and fell over on the couch, with the divorce papers shaking in my hand.

I was tempted to get on Twitter and hashtag JustinGreen, hashtag divorce. Hashtag ha ha very funny.

I wiped my eyes with the back of my hand again. "Focus, Kay."

I forced myself to read more and see how far this prank went. Because Dex never did anything by half. This should be rich. I was being summoned to the law offices of pompous lawyer and so and so tomorrow morning at ten. To talk about a settlement before they filed the divorce petition officially with the court. Never even having been married, I had no idea how divorces worked. This could be complete BS.

But it was politely worded.
Please text your response if I can make it. Or call the office at your earliest convenience to reschedule.

I was also under orders to keep this whole divorce under wraps or risk losing any potential settlement. Of course Dex would want it kept quiet.

If Dex was going to these elaborate lengths, I was game for playing along. Even if it meant I showed up at some random law office Dex had picked off the Internet and got blank stares. An adventure would be a pleasant diversion. And give the family a good laugh at Christmas. If anyone in that law office had a sense of humor, they'd laugh with me, too.

I whipped out my phone and texted my reply—
I'll be there
. I almost added,
and I'll be expecting male strippers. At the very least a surprise party.
Though it wasn't anywhere near my birthday.

With my hours being cut to nearly nothing, I had the day off anyway. I may as well go downtown and do some window-shopping or stop by the market and get some flowers or a cheesecake bite on a stick. Dipped in chocolate. Hmmm…good news! My appetite was coming back.

I was even in the mood to watch the guys at the market throw fish. Dex knew how to get to me. And pick up my spirits. Always had. And I never bailed on a challenge as delicious as the one he'd just issued.

J
ustin

It was past seven in the evening, but I was still in the office, staring at the screen of my desktop. I should have been working, but I was too deep into self-punishment and loathing.

Shit
. I was up to my knees in it and damage control. Riggins, my business partner, was going to kill me if this marriage mistake screwed with the company.

I frowned, trying to remember pesky details, like what Kayla had looked like at our impromptu Reno wedding. But it was a blank. A total void. Like a scene from
The Hangover
.

A knock on my office door startled me from my self-flagellation.

Harry Lawrence, my legal counsel and friend, stuck his head in. "Got a minute? I have news."

"Yeah. Come in." My heart raced. I hoped the news was good. But what the hell constituted good in this situation? I was at a loss.

Harry slid into the office and closed the door. "We found her. She's been served and agreed to our meeting tomorrow morning."

I studied Harry, looking for clues in his expression. "That was fast. Where was she?"

"Her apartment in West Seattle."

I nodded. West Seattle felt like a place the Kayla I remembered would live. "What did she say?"

I was pissed and hurt and embarrassed. I had to know why the hell she'd run out on me.

Harry shrugged. "That's it. Everything I know. She said she'd be here." Harry hesitated. "Marrying her without a prenup was a real fuckup."

I nodded. "Do you have the paperwork drawn up?"

Harry had been the first person I'd called after I realized my mistake. The only person. If Harry couldn't fix this, no one could.

"Justin, as your lawyer, I have to caution you—this is dangerous. It could backfire in your face is so many ways. And it's going to cost you millions. Is this what you really want?"

I flipped my hand casually, like I didn't give a damn about a couple million. Compared to what was at stake, it was peanuts. "It's only a matter of time before someone uncovers the record of the marriage. A divorce is going to be a matter of public record, as well.

"Reporters, my competitors, they're always trying to dig shit up on me. Divorcing days after getting married will look flaky and irresponsible to the analysts, investors, and market. I can't risk driving stock prices down so soon after the IPO. I just need to flush her out and talk to her. Give her my proposal."

Harry looked damnably sympathetic for a guy who got any girl he wanted. "This could backfire in your face. She ran out on you after less than twelve hours of marriage. What makes you think she's reliable?"

"Cold feet are common enough." I set my jaw.

"But not usually on the wedding night." He sounded like he was arguing the case against her, or me, in court.

"Most people don't get married after a few hours, either." I wouldn't be deterred.

"What makes you think she'll stay and play the part? Keep her mouth shut now?"

"She's on the rebound from that douche Eric. She'll want to show him."

Harry frowned. "She sounds petty."

I stared Harry down, irrationally angry and defensive for her. "She sounds human."

Harry's eyes narrowed like he was trying to pin me down and win this case. "You're asking her to give up a hell of a lot. Freedom is no small thing."

"Give me liberty or give me death?" I laughed, but it was bitter. "Only for a year. Maybe less. Everything has a price. The Kayla I knew wasn't a swindler. But she likes nice things. She's shrewd. She knows the value of a good deal. I only want one thing. I need you to ask her why she left." I paused in thought.

"Will that make a difference?" Harry sounded puzzled.

He didn't understand and I didn't expect him to. But he had a point—would it?

"Maybe." I sighed. "We've done our due diligence on her. It's an acceptable risk."

Harry hadn't stopped frowning. "You're the client. Just make damn sure you don't combine any assets or you're screwed. This is a community property state."

"If you've done your job, the contract is airtight. It won't be a problem. We offered her an enticement, a bonus at the end if she keeps her mouth shut and doesn't cause trouble for us?" I always double-checked.

Harry nodded. "We'll tell her that if she ends this now, she gets nothing. The courts won't take her abandonment lightly. We have a strong case against her. I've written in the allowance you specified."

I nodded again. "We'll keep her under tabs. Everything will be fine, Harry. Trust me."

Now if I could just convince myself.

K
ayla

I wasn't sure how to dress to get divorced. Or pranked. My fashion choice was complicated by the shopping I planned to do afterward. Having been recently dumped, I decided that any respectable girl on the edge of divorce, prank or otherwise, would dress to show her ex
exactly
what he was missing. I dressed like I was showing
Eric
what
he
was missing. He was the douchebag I really wanted revenge on.

I took special care with my hair and makeup. I did everything I could think of to make myself feel good. And powerful. And sexy. Including using my new mascara product that put lash fibers on my eyelashes to make them look smoking. Because lashes that jump off the page really get the guys, apparently. At least according to beauty product commercials. I wanted to watch his Adam's apple bob when I batted my eyes and refused to pucker my lips for him. Or maybe that was actually Eric I was thinking of.

I dressed in my new outfit—flouncy skirt, a white lace cami, and navy suit jacket with brass buttons and a ruffled edge as a nod to the "seriousness" of the occasion. I added the new platform pumps I'd gotten for a steal off the Flashionista website. He was a guy. Would he notice? It was probably a wasted effort.

He would notice, however, when I towered over him. I laughed at myself. Poor Jus. Eric had really done me wrong.

I was ready for a day of any, or all, of the following: divorcing, outing pranks, and shopping. On the bright side, maybe I'd get lucky and get some alimony from this adventure—ha ha! I was hoping for at least lunch on Dex.

It was June and the sun was shining, which only minimally picked my spirits up. As furious as I was at Eric, I was still mourning him. I grabbed my flowered tote, stuffed the bogus legal papers in it, and took the bus to downtown Seattle.

This was crazy, really stupidly crazy. But at least the divorce had taken my focus off Eric.

Oh, Dex,
I thought with a smile on my face.

I got off the bus a block away and made it to the law offices with five minutes to spare. Their offices were on the fourteenth floor. Expensive real estate. The décor was modern, tasteful, elegant. And intimidating. I suspected intentionally.

I bet myself this was a real law office with no idea what was going on. Dex was good. The lawyer's name, Harry Lawrence, was even on the door.

I took a deep breath. Inside, I introduced myself to the efficient-looking woman at the reception desk, expecting a blank look. "Kayla Lucas. I have an appointment with Harry Lawrence?" I winked at her.

She stared back at me with professional lack of humor. "Mr. Lawrence and Mr. Green are waiting for you in the conference room. They left instructions to show you right in." She stood. "This way."

I stared at her. Okay, Dex was taking this farther than I thought he would. The law office, or at least the receptionist, was in on it.

"He's
really
expecting
me
?" I pointed to myself. "Kayla Lucas?" I tagged after her as she strode confidently ahead.

"Of course." She pushed a door open ahead of me and poked her head in. "Ms. Lucas to see you." She stepped back out of the way and held the door to let me in.

I braced myself for a surprise. Male strippers. Clowns. I hated clowns. They scared me. And Dex knew it. Which is exactly why I wouldn't put it past him. Friends jumping up to yell, "Surprise!"

Maybe hidden cameras to catch the whole thing for a YouTube video.
Girl divorced by man she never married.
Could be a YouTube sensation. If it went viral I could bask in my fifteen minutes of fame.

I took a deep breath and plunged into the room. The receptionist shut the door quietly behind me. I was supremely disappointed—no friends, no clowns.

Unless you counted the two men who sat quietly at a conference table. I didn't recognize either of them. One wore a baggy, unfashionable sports coat that was too big for his slender frame, jeans, and tennis shoes. His back was to me as he looked out the window. I couldn't see his face, just the back of his head. He was tall. His dark hair was unruly and needed a cut.

The other was dressed in a tailored suit that fit him as neatly as second skin. He was clean-shaven, well built, dark, and, even at a slight distance, smelled good, like expensive cologne and scented soap, as he stood and came toward me. If one of these two was going to be a stripper, I hoped it was the guy in the suit.

The suit extended his hand. "Harry Lawrence." His voice was cool and professional, but tight, like he was holding back his anger. Or maybe his laughter. He looked past me as if he was looking for someone or something.

I looked around him, expecting Dex to pop up and my friends to jump out of nowhere. But the conference room was sparsely furnished. There was no place for them to be hiding. I was on my own here.

I felt the sudden prickling of anxiety. This scene felt serious and official. Not at all like a prank. Either these guys were ready for a major acting award, or they'd made a mistake. Maybe Dex had paid them extra to give me a supremely good scare? If that was the case, it was working. I was losing my confidence in the idea this was one of his pranks.

"Kayla." I tried not to sound as uncertain as I felt as I offered my name, shook the suit's hand, and joined him in looking around. "Am I missing something?" I put just a hint of flirt in my tone. He was good looking. So what that I was off men? I wasn't dead.

"Where's your lawyer?" Harry's gaze held mine a second too long before he looked behind me again.

I smiled at him and gave him a conspiratorial look. "Okay, Mr. Lawrence—"

"Call me Harry."

"Happily. Harry"—I winked at him and pulled the divorce papers from my bag—"the game is over. Did Dex put you up to this stunt?" I shook the papers and slapped them on the table with a flourish, wondering if now he'd at least take off his suit jacket.

"I hate to contradict you, but the game is just beginning." His eyes snapped like he was eagerly anticipating a good battle. "Who's Dex?"

"Give it up," I said, ignoring his question. "This is a joke."

"You call scamming my client a joke? What do you want, Kayla? You married Justin without a prenup. I'm sure that was by design—get a guy drunk. Con him into marrying you. Fleece him big time?" He raised one eyebrow.

I laughed. "Awesome. That is a really good story. You should write a novel." I took a deep breath. "But I have to warn you. There's been a mistake—"

I didn't even see Justin anywhere.

Harry didn't look even a
little
bit amused. Which was too bad, because this was hilarious. And I liked a man who liked to laugh. Some people had no sense of humor. Like lawyers.

"You have no claim on Justin's assets or any part of Flashionista." He looked and sounded totally serious. And he still had all his clothes on.

I stared at him as if he were crazy. Because he was. Practically certifiable. He was talking utter, complete, stupid nonsense. "Stop kidding. The prank's over. This is losing its funny."

He wasn't even flirting back with me now. Suddenly he'd gone serious cop on me.

"Kidding?" Harry pointed to the guy staring out the window. "You targeted and conned my client. Married him under false pretenses. And ran out on him. You call that a prank?"

I stared at him. He was dead serious.

"No, I call that heartless. Whoever did it should be ashamed. But it wasn't
me
. The real Justin would know that I would never do something to hurt him like that. I like him. He's sweet." I pointed at the guy staring out the window. "That isn't even Justin Green. Not the one
I
knew. Dex screwed up. He should have hired a shorter actor."

The guy looking out the window was too tall and mature. And yet…

"If any of this is true, you have the wrong person." I spoke boldly, but I was wavering. There
was
something familiar about the guy with his back to me.

Harry held his hand up to stop my protests. "You don't have to keep asserting your innocence. We have a business proposition for you." Harry glanced at the guy who was still staring out the window. "It's a generous offer. I suggest you consider it carefully and take it before he changes his mind."

He cleared his throat. "But first, my client wants to know one thing—why did you desert him without an explanation?"

"
I
didn't desert him. And I don't want his money." The words popped out automatically.

I should have been tempted. I needed the money. Like, really needed it. But I wasn't going to jump at a joke. Dex would think that was too funny. I'd never hear the end of it. And if this wasn't a joke? I hadn't married him. I wasn't the one.

"When are you going to listen to me? I never married your supposed client." I looked at the guy now, too.

The supposed Justin was still staring out the window as if his alleged divorce proceedings weren't going on in the room around him. His shoulders were square. In fact, he was so still, he radiated with quiet anger. In my experience, that's the worst kind.

"If this really isn't a prank, I'm not the Kayla Lucas you're looking for. You've got the wrong Kayla." I clutched my tote tightly against me and turned to leave. "I've had enough. I'm out of here."

Harry wouldn't let it go. "Maybe you don't remember?"

I stopped in my tracks and turned around. "Don't remember? How do you
not
remember getting married?"

"Kayla, please. Let's stop the innocent act. We know you were in Reno last weekend staying at the same hotel as Justin." Harry pulled some papers from a stack on the table and held them out to me. "Your marriage license. Dated last Friday night." He tapped one of the papers. "That's your signature."

"What?" I snatched the paper away and gasped. The paper was an authentic-looking marriage license. The signature looked enough like mine to make me sweat.

Just then the guy in the chair swiveled around and faced me. "I don't. Remember getting married." His voice was deep and sexy, the kind of voice that belonged on the radio. When his eyes met mine, his brow furrowed.

The guy in the chair had a bushy beard and mustache. It was more than just Seattle style. It was like he thought he was a hipster or something. He was stockier than I remembered Justin being, more filled out, taller and better built. But his eyes were Justin's. Sensitive. Innocent in an endearing way. But shining with hurt he was obviously trying to control.

"Justin?" I was tentative and unsure, still not one hundred percent confident I wasn't being pranked by an imposter. "Is that
really
you?"

Beneath the baggy sports coat, he was wearing a band T-shirt. The shirt looked suspiciously like an oversize one he'd had in college. Only he filled this one out much better than he used to. I knew for certain now—he was Justin Green.

I frowned, completely puzzled. "What is this all about, Justin? Did Dex put you up to this? Tell Harry I
didn't
marry you."

Harry turned to Justin for confirmation.

Justin shook his head almost imperceptibly. "I can't, Kay. I really don't remember. That license says we did."

J
ustin

The sight of Kayla made my breath catch. Just like it had at the hotel in Reno when I'd caught a glimpse of her. She was even hotter than my smoking adolescent college memories of her. I fought the old feelings of gawky insecurity and inferiority. Being near her again made my palms sweat. Crap, even my heart sweat.

This was Kayla,
the
Kayla I remembered. Natural blond hair. Sparkling lilac eyes. And genuine surprise and delight at seeing me. Right then, I would have done anything to stop her from walking out that door.
Ever
. I knew I'd made the right decision.

Kayla's frown deepened. "Don't remember?"

She was gorgeous when she was puzzled. She paled. "I
was
in Reno last weekend. But I didn't even see you. Let alone marry you. I had no idea you were there, too." Her eyes begged me to explain. "I spent most of my time in my hotel room, puking."

Her words were flippant and self-deprecating, amused. Anyone else would have been embarrassed. Not Kayla. She was always incredibly plucky.

If I imagined hard enough, she was even a little flirty. But that was just her being her, too. "Ah-hah, Kay. See? Drunk? Weren't we both?"

As she shook her head, her hair swung gently. She brushed a curl out of her face. "Not drunk. A horrific case of food poisoning. A bad piece of fish at lunch, I think. Enough to make me very sick."

"You disappoint me," I said.

She laughed again, nervously now, studying me like I was nearly a complete stranger. Like she didn't really believe it was me. Like the marriage stuff was complete crap. "You're not joking? You really think we got married?"

I prompted her. "I was in Reno for business. While I was checking in, I spotted you in the hotel lobby. I waved, but you didn't see me. I took a chance you hadn't changed your number since college, texted you, and asked you out for a drink Friday night." I tried to keep my tone neutral and not let my foolish crush on her show. I pulled my phone from my pocket, brought up her texts, and handed it to Harry to hand to her to see. "Here's our conversation. We met for drinks—"

"No!" She shook her head as she took it from me. "I never got a text from you. I'm positive. And by Friday night, I was so sick, I had to cancel my flight home and hang around another day. My boss was furious at having to foot the bill. I didn't leave my hotel room until early Saturday morning. I didn't have the energy."

She frowned prettily as she looked at the texts she'd sent me.

Then suddenly, she paled again. "Oh, crap." She took a deep breath and swayed on her feet. "This is crazy. Someone stole my purse and phone Friday. I got them back later from the hotel. Someone had ditched them in a planter. A hotel employee found them and returned them to me. You don't think…"

I stared at her, waiting for her to finish.

Always the hero, Harry caught her elbow and pulled a chair out for her before I could move. She plopped into it, looking seriously stunned.