“Of course not.” Nichole frowned at her glass of champagne. “Not even our families.”
She’d never liked lying. And this scheme required they lie to the ones they loved the most. This couldn’t be happening.
“We only tell the people we need to about our marriage.” She nodded. Her voice gaining strength. “We ask for their discretion like we did with Glenn and Vick.”
“You do remember that I always come up with horrible schemes.” Like when he’d decided to cheat off her test in biology.
“Is it so horrible if my app sells and your contract gets renewed?” Nichole dropped a strawberry in her glass of champagne as if preparing to celebrate. “Is it so horrible if we both get what we want?”
His gaze tracked back to Nichole’s face. He could want... Talk about bad ideas. “I’m asking you to lie to save my career.” That was all kinds of wrong. And still he never called a time-out.
“I created the whole lie in the first place.” She dunked another strawberry into the glass as if searching for clarity in the bubbling liquid. “I started this.”
He took both of her hands. “So, we decide together how we finish it?”
“I want my dream, Chase.” She squeezed his hands.
I want my dream. I deserve it. He’d confessed that to Nichole after he’d told her about his dyslexia and his struggle to pass his classes. She’d looked him in the eye, conviction in her voice. Then you’ll have it. But only if we do things the right way. My way. “Shouldn’t you be telling me this is a bad idea? That it’s wrong to deceive people to get what we want.”
“It is a really bad idea.” Her gaze fastened on his. Direct and probing. “But I know the kind of man you are.”
“What kind is that?”
“The kind who doesn’t want a partner. The kind who doesn’t trust in commitment.” Her intent gaze skimmed over his face. “The one who doesn’t believe love conquers all.”
She was right. He was selfish. Relied on himself. Loved his job more than anything or anyone else. Her accusation hit more precisely than a targeted sack from an opponent. Chase rubbed his chest, hoping to loosen the airflow and tease her into seeing just how bad an idea this was. “How is that a good thing?”
“I’m the same kind of woman. This is only a business arrangement between old friends.” She released his hands. “We aren’t deceiving ourselves. Love, promises and vows aren’t involved. We won’t walk away brokenhearted.” She picked up her champagne glass, her tone earnest. “We’ll walk away with everything we wanted.”
Not everything. He wanted to kiss her again. Another bad idea.
She tipped her champagne glass at him. “Also, we are not making any kind of public announcement.”
He knew the media. A mediocre reporter could figure out who had attended a private party from the take-out containers located in the trash. Chase could promise only so much, but nothing more. “There won’t be a press release.”
“So, no public announcement.” She counted off the details on her fingers as if bad decisions were always made with logic and not haste. “We tell only the people we absolutely must that we’re married. We close the deal with Fund Infusion. Get your contract renewed. Then end our marriage.”
Simple. Less than a handful of steps. But the details... Those complicated everything. “You don’t like to take risks.”
“I have to take this one.” Her expression was sincere and serious. “This is for my family.”
He’d do anything for his family too. Chase ran his hands over his face. His family had considered Nichole one of their own in high school. Claimed her as part of the Jacobs family. He held out his hand. “Do we have a deal then?”
She set her hand in his. “We’re in a business arrangement.”
“We’ve been friends too long to ink our fake marriage with a handshake.” And because he’d always been a risk-taker, he stood and pulled her toward him. “Let’s seal the deal correctly?”
His arms wrapped around her waist. He leaned forward, chasing that hint of an adrenaline rush. Her eyes closed, her long eyelashes fanned across her tinted cheeks. Her face softened. Suddenly risk averse, Chase used a successful hook route, shifting at the last second to press his lips against her forehead.
A reminder to himself their marriage was only a sham. Hearts were not included in any deal. And all adrenaline rushes were best avoided.
CHAPTER SEVEN
“YOU’RE MARRIED!” BROOKE shoved the door to the Rose Petal Boutique closed. She scowled and pointed at the large stain on the front of her cream-colored sweater. “Nichole, you owe me a new sweater, too, besides an explanation.”
Her friend’s accusations jarred Nichole into fully alert mode better than a triple espresso shot. Nichole stumbled beside Josie and spun around to face Brooke. She stammered, “Wh-what?”
“We’re clearly late for more than the photo shoot this morning.” Josie clutched Nichole’s hand and tugged her toward the back of the bridal salon. “Brooke! Get back here. We’ll have to walk and talk.”
“Does no one want to know how this all happened?” Outrage shifted through Brooke’s voice.
“No time.” Josie pulled Nichole past the vintage couch reserved for the bride’s family and friends, plowing toward the dressing room. “Mia is waiting for us at the cathedral and we’re already late.”
“But it’s all over the news.” Brooke rushed after them.
Nichole swiped several chocolates from the candy dish on the side table. No public announcement. We’ll only tell the people we need to. The internet hadn’t been included in the need to know category. Chase had promised. A dull ache pounded behind Nichole’s eyes. She fumbled with a candy wrapper. “It can’t be.”
“Too late for that now.” Josie picked up the candy bowl and thrust it at Brooke, then grimaced at Nichole. “You need clean hands.”
“Desperate times.” Nichole unwrapped two candies, popped them in her mouth and offered Josie a regretful shrug.
Brooke stomped a foot like a frustrated five-year-old. “I dropped Wesley and Ben
