Page 14 of Bargaining
She snorted, moved to the window, and twitched the net curtain to one side. “Is that guy waiting out there for you?”
I joined her at the window. “Yes.”
“Does he want to come in? Shall I take him a cup of tea?”
“It’s his job. He’ll be fine.”
“It’s his job to wait in the car for you while you propose to a woman you haven’t seen in twelve years on the day she buries her father?”
“It’s his job to do whatever I tell him to do.”
She looked up at me from beneath her thick lashes. Moonlight fell through the fraying net curtain, painting her face in intricate patterns. There wasn’t a woman I’d come across who could compare. All these years, and I’d never been able to get her out of my head.
I followed her gaze out of the window to the rusting, battered Mini. “Is that your car?”
“Honestly, Cole, I think it’s time you left—”
“It looks like a wreck. Is it still running?”
“I need to take it to the garage. It wasn’t exactly high on my list of priorities.”
My phone buzzed loudly in my pocket. I swiped Lucas’s irritating face away.“This is a good deal for both of us. Marry me, and I’ll give you whatever you want in return.”
She pressed her fingers against her temples, rubbing in circles as though soothing a headache. “Let me get this straight. You want to pay me to be your fake wife?”
“Correct.”
She braced her hands on the window ledge. A bitter smile thinned her lips. “It’s been twelve years. No messages. No phone calls. No emails. Nothing. Not a peep from you. Then you turn up at my father’s funeral with all this nonsense?”
“I had my reasons for leaving.”
She folded her arms tight across her chest. “And did you have your reasons for ignoring my emails? For never returning my calls?”
Yes. A sour taste rose in my mouth. Roy had begged me to cut off contact. He’d also begged me not to tell her. Now wasn’t the time. Maybe there would never be a time to betray a promise made to a dead man. It didn’t mean I still couldn’t convince her to marry me. Any good negotiation relied on both parties recognizing the merits of the deal. This deal had value whether she hated me or not.
Her disparaging gaze roved over me. “You moved on and forgot about me. You didn’t want to do long distance, and you didn’t have the balls to tell me and put me out of my misery. I’m a big girl now, Cole. All grown up. I can take it. Just tell the truth.”
“Let me lay out the terms. This isn’t just about me. Be my wife and I can give you anything.”
She picked up a framed photo of Roy posing with a tennis racket in his hand and stared at it blankly. “No. Not anything.”
OK, anything besides resurrection. Money couldn’t fix grief, but it was still easier to be sad in a hammock in the Maldives. She let out a long sigh. Why was she here alone? Her sister should have been with her, or anyone, for that matter.
“Have you eaten this evening?”
Her absent gaze fixed on the chipped window frame. She wasn’t listening. I moved out of the living room to the dim kitchen. A clean detergent smell hit my nose, but the room was in as much disarray as the living room. Books piled high in teetering piles. Pots and pans spilled out of boxes everywhere. The laminated cards with instructions taped to the cupboards and appliances stopped me in my tracks.Shut the fridge. Turn the kettle off. Switch off the oven.
Someone at the wake had told me that Roy had suffered with dementia. I hadn’t really processed that at the time. Now, it hit me square in the face. Charlotte had been in this house looking after him. Hard to imagine what that had been like. I weaved through the clutter and surveyed the sparse contents of the fridge and cupboards. There was enough to make a sandwich, but not much else.
“What are you doing?” Charlotte’s voice drifted from the doorway.
I took off my jacket, hung it on the back of a chair, and rolled up my shirtsleeves. “Making you something to eat.”
Her eyebrows rose with alarm. “You don’t have to do that.”
I flicked on the kettle. “What about sleep? Have you been getting any sleep?”
“I’m fine. You don’t have to worry about me. This is none of your concern.”
