The Professional Bride: Billionaire Marriage Brokers Book Three (6 page)

His actions with Amber, the way he let her draw him close and crave contact, made him feel needy. Stuffing his hands in his sweater pockets, he resolved to get through the wedding and the marriage with his dignity intact.

Chapter 5

Amber was relieved that the justice of the peace took his job seriously. He sure didn’t waste any time. They were in, married, and out the door in a matter of ten minutes. It was a good thing. She wasn’t sure how long she could keep Rym from having another come apart. All three of her previous husbands had sought out BMB. They had specific requirements for their wife and were pleased, if not even excited, to marry Amber. Talking someone into marrying her felt manipulative and bordering on dishonest business practices.

They drove through Park City in a comfortable silence. Rym had taken on a reflective, though determined, aura. There were no second thoughts floating between them, and she took it as a good sign that his shoulders were relaxed. Apparently the worst was over.

In the short time she’d known Rym, she’d already ascertained that he cared about others, as evidenced by the blanket he wrapped around her in the car and the coat he’d loaned her; took pleasure in the small things in life, like hot chocolate; and had some confidence issues that came through with his inability to take a compliment on his looks.

Confidence she could work on. Though some people were born with it, confidence was something a person could learn, and Rym would be a quick study.

His attention to the people around him set others at ease, and he’d soon find that it was probably one of his biggest strengths.

His other strength, the one he didn’t know he had, was his looks. He’d probably been riding on them for years and didn’t even know it. His strong jaw line and wide smile commanded attention. Well, they commanded
her
attention. When he’d taken her hands, she’d felt a thrill go through her body. At first she passed it off as a chill, but when his warm breath touched her skin, she knew it had nothing to do with the temperature and everything to do with him.

Even though her other husbands were good-looking, she’d never felt more for them than affection, the kind of affection she had for family. They were much more than clients; they’d become the deepest of friends. They held hands, hugged, posed for pictures, and made all sorts of small gestures that were easy, natural, calming. But having Rym close was not at all calming. It scattered her thoughts and had her frantic for a deep breath.

Even wearing his coat was distracting. Since his frame was much larger than hers—probably mostly muscle, since she’d gotten a flash of a washboard stomach when he pulled off his stained shirt—she was practically swimming in the coat. It smelled like fresh air and pine trees, with a hint of musk. All things she’d smelled before, but the combination was new.

That was the problem. This was all new! She hadn’t left the country, but she may as well have been in another part of the world. The rolling, snowy hills; the quaint little houses; the rustic-looking resorts and hotels; the towering trees; and the way the sunlight sparkled off the snow must have been overloading her senses. Once she was used to the landscape, she’d become used to Rym as well.

She smiled, feeling much better about the whole situation once she found a reason for her reaction to Rym’s touch.

“This is it,” said Rym as he pulled into a parking lot. The bank didn’t look like the banks back home. Instead, it looked like a claim’s office for a silver mine. Perhaps it
had
been one, back in the day.

Amber didn’t wait for Rym to open her door. The faster they were in a heated building, the better. They made their way into the bank and stopped at the desk just outside of the branch manager’s office.

Rym smiled easily and said, “I have an appointment with Mr. Baggs.”

“Your name?”

“Mr. and Mrs. Hoagland.” He glanced quickly at Amber as the receptionist checked her calendar, and Amber’s heart fluttered.
It’s all part of the job, nothing more.
Rym did the right thing, giving her the title of “Mrs.”

“He’s expecting you,” said the fifty-something woman.

Once the introductions were made and a stack of financial papers dug out of a filing cabinet, Mr. Baggs began a long and extremely detailed overview of each paper before Rym signed. Amber was enthralled and impressed: either Grandpa was a financial wiz or he’d hired a top-notch lawyer.

“There are a number of fees associated with the transfer. This is the total amount.”

Amber leaned forward to see the sum and barely held in her gasp.

“If you’ll sign here and here.” Mr. Baggs pointed to the signature line with his long and tapered finger.

Reaching out her hand to stay Rym’s pen, Amber said, “Can you explain the fees, please?”

“It’s a long list and I do have another meeting.” He glanced at the clock to their right for emphasis. “I assure you, they are typical for this type of transaction.”

Rym moved to sign, and Amber placed her hand on his arm again. “Nonetheless, I’m sure you’d like to have full disclosure for a transaction of this amount. You know, to avoid any legal problems in the future.”

Rym set his jaw. “I’m sure it’s fine.” His eyes flashed a warning.             

She kicked herself for not thinking about this before they walked in. Darn coat and its distracting scent. She didn’t know what else to do, so she just laid it out in front of Mr. Baggs. “Rym, there shouldn’t be fees for this. From what I’ve heard so far, your grandfather set everything up so that the money should come through clean and clear.”

“Mrs. Hoagland, I assure you, everything is legal.”

“See, it’s not a big deal,” said Rym.

Leveling her gaze at Mr. Baggs, Amber said, “Just because something is legal doesn’t make it right.” She pointed at the sum on the paper. “Thirty thousand dollars is a substantial amount of money for undefined fees. We’ll see that list, please.”

Mr. Baggs narrowed his eyes. Amber could see him calculating the risk of pushing her further against doing as she asked. His gaze flicked over her. He must have decided she wasn’t much of a threat, because he said, “I believe my secretary has that information. I’ll be right back.”

As soon as his feet cleared the threshold, Rym rounded on her. “What are you doing?”

“Saving you thirty thousand dollars.”

“It’s nothing compared to the total I’ll be getting.”

Amber gripped the arms of her chair. “But it’s
your
money, Rym. Not the bank’s. You can’t let them chip it away.”

Rym took a deep breath and held it in for a while before letting it out. “I appreciate your concern, but this isn’t your concern.”

Amber bristled. “It may not be my concern, but it’s my job.”

Rym flinched.

There are the second thoughts …

Amber continued. “You may not care what happens to thirty thousand because you’re about to get a whole lot more. But what if that thirty thousand was all you got? Would you be so willing to throw it away? Think, for just a second, about what you could do with this money you were willing to trash, and you’ll understand that controlling your money,
all
your money, is a responsibility, not a chore and certainly not something to be embarrassed about.”

Mr. Baggs came back in with two sheets of paper. He handed one to each of them. “As you can see from this breakdown, everything is in order.” Mr. Baggs leaned back in his chair and crossed one ankle over the other leg.

Amber scanned the list and felt her stomach drop to the floor. She hesitated, hoping she wasn’t alienating Rym by pushing things, but her conscience wouldn’t let her see him get taken. “I don’t think so.”

“Excuse me?” Mr. Baggs’s foot dropped to the floor.

“You’re right, these are all legal fees to charge on a transfer. However, this isn’t a transfer, it’s an inheritance, and by law, ninety percent of these fees should either be waived or drastically reduced.”

Mr. Baggs’s mouth worked furiously, but no sound came out. Rym looked at her, horrified, and she silently pled with him to trust her.

As Mr. Baggs’s face turned the color of an eggplant, Amber placed her sheet on the desk and grabbed a highlighter from the Grand Canyon mug near the keyboard. “For example, this legal process fee of ten thousand dollars must be a typo. The going rate for this fee is a hundred dollars.”

“Yes, but that’s hundred dollars for each time we received notice to release the property or funds.”

“Surely you aren’t suggesting that you’ve had over a thousand notices to release these funds?”

“No, but—”

She turned to look at Rym. “Have you asked the bank a thousand times to release these funds, in writing?”

Rym’s eyes grew wide. “No.”

“Then I don’t understand why this fee is so high. In fact, there are several fees here—” She highlighted them as she talked. “—that I’d like broken down.”

“Ma’am, it could take hours to gather that information and we close at five. This could delay the funds transfer.”

Rym’s hand dropped to her knee, and Amber’s gaze met his. She could see the panic in his eyes. His wallet was empty, he had a brand new wife, and unless the paperwork was taken care of today, he’d be homeless. She felt a large wave of dislike for Mr. Baggs for trying to bully him.
This ends now.

She gave Rym’s hand a little squeeze before tuning him out and focusing on Mr. Baggs. “I suppose it
could
take a couple of hours—if you had to train your secretary on new software. But this information should be available with a few clicks of the mouse—it’s that little black thing by your keyboard. If you can’t figure it out, I’m sure I, a stranger to your bank but well versed in navigating financial software, could manage to find the files in less than five minutes.

“However, your reluctance to cooperate and disclose this information leads me to believe that you are fully aware there have been several
typos
in this fees sheet. I’ve highlighted the suspect ones.” She slid her paper, now covered in bright yellow slashes, across the desk. “It should only take five minutes to make the changes to this section of the contract.”

Mr. Baggs looked like he’d eaten an entire plate of hot peppers. He took her paper without a word and stormed from the office.

As he left, Amber sank into her chair, the fight-or-flight hormones floating away like the steam in a hot chocolate cup. Rym gave her knee a small squeeze, and she was surprised to see his hand still resting there. She’d been so worked up she’d ignored it completely.
See, I’m getting used to him already.

“You’ve got to stop,” he whispered harshly.

Amber felt like he’d taken the wind out of her sails. “Why?”

“I fight my own battles.”

“But—”

Before she could continue, Mr. Baggs came back in. He settled behind his desk with a polite smile, though venom laced his facial features. “You were right, Mrs. Hoagland. Upon closer inspection, there were several typos that have since been corrected.” He placed the new sheet on the desk. Before Amber could glance at the numbers, Rym picked it up, leaving Amber out of the rest of the conversation.

“That looks much better. Let’s wrap this up.”

As Mr. Baggs droned on, Amber had several more questions, but she kept them to herself. None of them would cause any major issues in the future or cost Rym anything more than a phone call to iron out. It was against her nature and training to let even the little things go. Yet she held her tongue for the sake of her marriage. She needed to earn his trust. Steamrolling him wasn’t the best way to go about it. What she’d done already could take weeks to repair. She mentally cringed. Pamela was going to call tonight to see how things went, and Amber’s honest report wouldn’t be all that flattering.

Rym didn’t touch her or look at her for the rest of the meeting. Even though she’d saved him a substantial amount of money, she felt as though she’d failed. It was a feeling she wasn’t used to.

Once they’d shook hands with Mr. Baggs, left the office, and settled into the car, Amber said, “I’m here to help you.”

“Is that what you were doing? It felt more like you were babysitting me.” Rym turned the heat up to full blast and turned his vent so it blew on her.

Amber blinked. “I would have loved to have trained you for this scenario, but it wasn’t like I had a lot of time. You kind of sprang this on me.”

Rym pulled into traffic. He checked his rearview mirror and then slumped in his seat. “I didn’t know half of what he was talking about.”

Amber nodded in understanding. Rym wasn’t embarrassed by her actions; he was embarrassed because of his lack of knowledge. She’d wounded his pride. The very man she was supposed to be building up, she’d unintentionally torn down. Amber bit her lip and pulled the blanket close.

***

Rym could see Amber shrinking next to him, and he rubbed his stomach. She was still wearing his coat, and each time they were in the car she burrowed into his blanket. This time, she went so deep he wondered if she was ready to fly back to California. Though he had no intention of letting her run over him—as she had at the bank—he couldn’t afford to chase her off. He needed to smooth things over.