Total pages in book: 91
Estimated words: 90114 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 451(@200wpm)___ 360(@250wpm)___ 300(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 90114 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 451(@200wpm)___ 360(@250wpm)___ 300(@300wpm)
"It's uh…" I reach for something that will convince Lucien I'm a doting fiancée. And get him to leave. "I appreciate that you came."
"Of course." He takes my hand in his. "Young love is so beautiful."
"Right."
"I was older when I met Liv. I'd been with other women. But it was different when I fell for her. As if the stars were finally shining." He makes a show of looking to the sky. "I suppose it's hard to convey to a New Yorker. You never see the stars here."
"I'm used to it."
"Do you consider yourself a New Yorker now? Or is your heart in California?"
"I love the city." I pull my hand to my side. "It's a little chilly out here." I make a show of rubbing my arms. It's not chilly. Even in my thin dress. It's warm. Humid even. "I should get back. Before Mai gives my dad a heart attack."
He reaches for my hand again. "I shouldn't be talking about myself. I'm sorry. I suppose I just… want you to understand. I'm not proud of what I've done."
What the hell is he talking about?
"I had this hole after Liv died. I needed to fill it. Nick took up poker. I did something similar."
Okay…
"I make wagers. With friends. It started as a New Year's resolution. Charles was trying to lose twenty pounds. I bet him he couldn't. To motivate him."
"Sure."
"He bet me I couldn't close a deal for ten percent above asking. It was little things. Then bigger ones. Then Shep got involved." He reaches into his pocket. Pulls out a folded stack of papers. A contract. "I wasn't going to tell you. But you're such a sweet young woman." He unfolds the papers. "This is all a game to him. You're a pawn to him. You deserve better." He pushes the papers into my hands. "You deserve the truth."
Chapter Forty-Four
Jasmine
When I return to our rehearsal dinner, the room is cold. It's not the difference between the air-conditioning and the spring evening.
It's something else.
A black hole sucking in the life around it.
Mai and Quyen are still laughing. Making Dad blush.
Ian is still flirting shamelessly with both of them.
He looks to me and raises a brow are you okay?
I nod as if I am. I should be. It shouldn't be a big deal. I don't want to believe anything Lucien says.
So what if Shep has a contract? If he's doing this just to beat Lucien at some sick game?
I knew the deal when I signed up. Marriage, selling true love, a year on his terms.
The papers are signed. My fate is sealed. Another eleven and a half months as his.
Only it doesn't feel like a curse anymore.
I want to be Shep's. His wife, his love, his everything.
I manage a smile as I chat with my family. Ian. The host at the restaurant.
Even as I help Dad into Lock's car.
I keep a smile until I'm alone, on the way back to Shep's apartment, walking in the moonlight.
Then I read every tiny detail again.
Is this really all I am? A pawn in Shep's game?
Is he really that good at pretending?
I don't want to believe it.
I don't want to believe a thing Lucien says.
But there is something Shep isn't telling me. And I need to know.
Whatever it is, I need the truth.
Chapter Forty-Five
Shepard
At home, Jasmine is sitting at the dining table. She's wearing that same white dress. The same silver heels.
But everything else is different.
It's in her eyes. That look Lizzy had.
That's impossible. Lucien would never admit this. And Nick couldn't have told her.
There's no way she could know.
She can't know.
Anything is better than that.
"What are you doing?" I slam the door closed. It doesn't hit hard enough. The world is too soft, too unable to take the beating it deserves.
Her eyes stay glued to me as she stands. She unfolds the paper. Leaves it on the table. "Your stepfather talked to me."
"Did he?"
"He wanted to tell me about this game you play… how you'd made a bet that you could win me over."
Of course, he did.
There he goes, inventing rules I don't know. I'm too close to winning, so he brings up the game.
Bet makes it sound fun. It's not fun. It's sick. But there's no sense in discussing that. "And?"
"I was thinking," her voice is soft. She's not angry. She's understanding. Caring. Loving. "Why would he tell me that? Not because he has my best interests at heart. Because he wants to put a wedge between us."
I say nothing.
"Why would he want that? Why is he playing this strange game with you? You don't love him. You don't like him. You go pale when you see him. And Nick too. He—"
No.
She's too close to the truth.
I can't let her say those words. I can't let her go there.
"You're right. It's a game. That's all. It's fun toying with people. Especially you." I pull the bottle from the paper bag in my hands. "But I already lost." I set the half-emptied bottle of bourbon on the counter.