Marriage of Convenience (6 page)

He didn’t like having to rely on others to make that happen, but there were limits to his own abilities. He’d have to wait this out a little longer.

****

Hanging up the phone, Ronnie rubbed his hands over the back of his neck. He didn’t mind his job. He got to keep an eye on the sports networks, read his papers, and surf the internet. People really came to him. He didn’t get out much and didn’t really bother too much with the ins and outs.

His office, unlike those in B-rated movies, was sleek and modern, done up in black leather and steel. He was a minimalist at heart, and his office reflected this part of his personality. His clients weren’t your typical riffraff off the street, struggling between paychecks. Their clients were special people. They were otherwise well-to-do professionals who either didn’t have liquid capital for an emergency or simply weren’t interested in linking their personal finances to a risky deal. It wasn’t his practice to ask what the money was for. He merely took scraps of information anyone was willing to share or let slip. He knew enough about them to know they wanted their privacy, and he was willing to provide them with it, so long as they understood the terms of their agreement. And most did. That was really the truth of it. He didn’t think most of their clients didn’t pay because they weren’t able. He thought they were merely forgetful. Many of them were famous, after all. When do famous people sit around and think about money?

But he liked Carter. Even if Ronnie wasn’t afraid of losing his head, he didn’t want to lose the personal connection either. He’d hate to have something so trivial come between them.

Glaring at the top of his desk, Ronnie could have sworn that he’d cleared it yesterday. His secretary seemed to work overtime at making sure he had copies, in quadruplicate, of every piece of paper the business produced. For his files, she’d insist. Then why didn’t she do some damn filing, he cursed. Pulling a thick file forward from the heap threatening to fall off the corner of his desk, Ronnie flipped through the pages, scanning the lists of names. He had to make an example of someone, but whom? Reggie would take care of the how. The unsavory details needn’t concern Ronnie. But Reggie didn’t do his own thinking very often, so it would be left to Ronnie to make the determination of whom.

Focusing on the list in front of him, he muttered under his breath. He had no idea whom to choose. Jogging a wealthy person’s memory to pay their debt should be relatively easy. But whom should he choose? On one hand, a relatively known client would probably pay quickly to avoid a scandal. But if they didn’t, the company would probably also receive some media attention, and Ronnie was fairly certain that wouldn’t go over well with Carter.

He could choose a nobody, but who’s to say he or she really didn’t have the money, and he’d be back to square one unless he was really willing to let Reggie off the leash.

Fuck it. He closed his eyes and stabbed the page randomly with his finger. Okay, this woman. Ronnie stared at the name and screwed up his face, trying to picture her, but nothing came to mind. A nobody it would be.

Shrugging philosophically, he picked up the phone.

“Get in here. We got business.”

Reggie looked like a linebacker having a bad day. His main form of communication was grunting, and over the years he’d expressed a wide range in tone and intonation to note his interest and displeasure. Generally, Reggie liked doing the leg work, checking up on clients, his mere presence a reminder of their responsibilities. Ronnie preferred the air conditioned comfort of his plush office.

“Boss called. Wants to see some of the accounts cleared. He thinks we’ve been too easy on them.”

Reggie’s grunt was enthusiastic.

“So I want you to track down this lady and bring her to me. We’re going to have a chat and see if we can’t get her to clear the bill. If not, then people will know that when you don’t pay, Dollar Tree means business.”

He answered Reggie’s questions as the man attempted to establish his boundaries. He was surprised at this line of questioning, but he was also guessing that this job would be new for Reggie. They didn’t have many female clients. Checking this one out would require a little more ingenuity on his part.

“What? Sure. Talk to her. Do what you got to do. Just get her here. I want that money. She’s not well known, but that payday would be good for us both.” Ronnie didn’t know much about Reggie’s personal life, but he’d come to understand that unemployment was unemployment. “Yeah, keep your shirt on. Her name is….” Ronnie scanned the page again. He should have highlighted it. Ah, there. “Ms. Mathers. Caroline Mathers.”

Caroline’s heart began beating rapidly as it always did when she took risks. Some people took risks and were fine with both the process and the results, whether it’s what they intended or not. She wasn’t that type of risk-taker. She had taught herself to take risks. As counterintuitive as that sounded, even to herself, she knew she’d come a long way in learning to be brave, learning to be flexible, learning to accept unintended consequences.

Since her father had died when she was young, she’d been forced to look at life differently. The oldest of three children, most people thought she was spoiled by her mother. That thought couldn’t have been further from the truth. Her father’s favorite child, he’d left everything to her, not her siblings, not her mother. In exchange for the blessing of his wealth, as he’d phrased it, he was counting on her to help her mother and brother and sister to understand that gifts weren’t automatic, and gratitude, kindness, and respect went a long way.

She’d spent her life trying to observe her father’s wishes while avoiding becoming a target of her mother and brother’s anger. She hadn’t succeeded at either the former or the latter. Constantly in survival mode, she’d realized a few years ago that she had to start living her own life. Thus began the delicate balance.

A mixture of relief and anticipation soared through her as she thought about what the day would bring—either the beginnings of the realization of a dream or the crashing thud of many years of preparation.

Motherhood.

She leaned back in the chair behind her small desk and stared blankly at the opposite wall while softly biting her lower lip.

In the past few years she’d accomplished so much. She’d left the law firm and started her own bakery. Everyone had thought she was crazy. Everyone except Gloria, of course. She smiled at the thought of her friend. The words she’d suggested Caroline use to express her logic for making the change still made her ears ring. And for a while she’d had her own doubts. She didn’t train with anyone to do what she did. Didn’t take any classes, didn’t consult any experts. She had a dream, a passion for baking and decorating. And thank God she could learn by watching. But she’d done it. Her office space was small, but, thanks to a small loan, the kitchen and retail space were first rate, and she’d been able to hire more staff.

When she’d opened her doors, she’d been a one woman show. Now she employed three full time bakers, five full time decorators, a website designer, a delivery boy, and all sorts of seasonal help. She was sought out for presentations, demonstrations, and international competitions. She booked a year in advance and didn’t need tickets to the season’s hottest events because she provided the cake. She desperately needed more time and third party investments to expand further, but she was ready to take on the last stage of her plan.

Seeing her own parent’s marriage fizzle and burn out, she wasn’t very focused on the marriage aspect. But part of achieving her goals had required flexibility, and she wasn’t going to allow that detail to stand in her way. She’d always wanted a family, well, children anyway. And the older she got, the more the feeling weighed on her. The dream had been a distant one though, because she hadn’t been seeking a permanent relationship or even a long-term lover. She’d considered a short-term situation, but over the years that hadn’t produced many options and definitely no successes. And she was selective.

She knew not just any man would do—certain qualities superseded others. He had to be handsome, intelligent, caring, healthy, and wealthy. The last quality was one she could waver on. She did have access to money. But she thought for the sake of her child, or children, that she ought to at least consider it. After all, according to experts, the number one cause of family discord was financial stress.

So when Gloria asked her to consider Malcolm Fowlkes as a suitor, she’d seen her plan leap from the back burner to the front. Could he be more perfect?

They’d met once, years ago. They’d been children, actually. His father had attended a meeting with her father at their home. He’d brought Malcolm, he’d explained, because he thought children should understand where their support came from. He didn’t want Malcolm taking his position for granted.

Malcolm had been a couple of years older, but he’d made quite an impression on a young girl. Tall for his age in a shirt and tie, he’d avoided the childish shoot ‘em up games her brother had tried to engage him in. Instead, he’d accepted when she’d asked him to read her a story. He’d refused her invitation to tea with Mr. Bear and Ms. Kitty, but she determined it probably wasn’t fair to hold that against him.

Malcolm had become the epitome of every woman’s fantasy. Sexiness was in his looks when he walked and when he talked. He was definitely a gorgeous man. As the artiste behind most of the City’s awards functions, she knew he’d received numerous awards for his charity work, so she knew he was caring. He’d made his money developing medical techniques and tools, and she knew his name was attached to many medical breakthroughs in the past ten years. And although she wasn’t privy to his medical records, she had no reason to think that he wasn’t in the best health and could father her child. The man was as virile as they came.

Caroline picked up the sticky note she’d written the date and time on. She checked her watch. It was just past 1:00. She shut down her computer and jotted some quick notes for the night staff. The bakers took over the kitchen once the day’s decorating was complete. The kitchen was kept cool, but the oven heat and the summer heat combined to make it nearly impossible to allow the bakers and decorators to work at the same time. Fondant was a necessity in the business, but it didn’t handle heat or humidity well.

As she walked to the door, her office phone rang. She leaned over the length of her desk, nearly knocking over the stacks of invoices waiting to be filed. She’d question the logic of leaning versus walking a few extra steps only if they did actually slide to the floor, creating yet another task that would have to be completed before she could leave.

“Caroline’s. This is Caroline. May I help you?” Stretching her arms to catch the files as they kissed the floor, she smothered a curse.

“Hello?” Pulling the phone from her ear, she stared at the handset and then at the numbers running across the small display screen on the base. It wasn’t a local number, and the area code didn’t look familiar.

“Hello?” She could have sworn she heard breathing. A prank call? In the middle of the day?

“I’m going to hang up know. If this is a legitimate call, please feel free to call the sales line, and one of the counter girls will be happy to assist you.” No need to be rude even though this was taking up precious spa time.

Replacing the handset, she eyed the invoices littering the floor crossly and vowed to leave them there until she returned. Pulling her office door shut behind her, she ran through her to-do list and nearly jumped when her cell phone rang. She tapped “answer” and heard her sister ask, “Have you really thought this through, Caroline?”

Leave it to her sister to call multiple phones and try to make her crazy as she neared one of the most important days of her life, she thought, rolling her eyes. Ignoring the urge to insist her younger sister lose her phone numbers altogether, she took a calming breath and determined that if she left now, she could make her spa appointment, get her toes done, and still have time to contemplate any last minute details before Malcolm arrived at 6:00.

She tucked the phone deeper into her shoulder, waved to the decorating staff and stepped out into the sale space. She smiled at the customers waiting in line, waved to the counter girls and breathed deeply as the sun shone brightly on her face.

She’d come to terms with her sister over the past few months. Her sister had married, created a life separate from that of their mother, and become a new person. Sarah, the middle child, after getting a degree at NYU, had joined her mother in the family marketing business. This decision had initially increased the gulf between the sisters. At their mother’s side constantly, Sarah was guided away from her sister and harassed when she failed to comply.

On a business trip to France, Sarah had met Cody Miles. He’d pursued Sarah persistently and finally succeeded in capturing her heart. He’d brought a balance to her life that she hadn’t experienced before. He’d also brought a sense of family and belonging. He’d been adamant that Sarah could and should repair the relationship she had with her family, at least with as many as she could, so that their children could benefit from the tight network of love that he’d experienced in his early years.

“Caroline?”

Sarah didn’t have to repeat her question for Caroline. She knew what Sarah wanted to hear. “Honestly, I think so. I just can’t believe this is all a coincidence. I have thought about this since I was a child. We’ll see. If it doesn’t go well, then at least I can say I tried. And then move on to Plan C.”

“All right, good luck. And be safe.”

“Thanks, Sarah.” Changing the subject, she asked, “How are the birthday plans going? I can’t believe Jack’s going to be two!”

Several hours later, her skin shiny and supple after a few hours at Elizabeth Arden, Caroline stepped out of the bathroom to get dressed for her dinner with Malcolm. She felt relaxed by the seaweed wrap. Her face glowed from the pumpkin facial peel. And she was rejuvenated by the eucalyptus steam shower. She was ready for any challenge. Perhaps, especially for this one. Every woman felt more like a woman after a day at the spa. Malcolm’s secretary had called to get her address and to let her know that Malcolm would be by at exactly 6:00. Bring him on, she thought, her confidence boosted by how good her body felt. Confidence in how she looked would help in those areas where she felt a little unsteady.