Page 18 of Craig

Her smile came and relieved him of the guilt he was feeling. "You are a sucker."

Going on her toes, she kissed him softly. "Thank you."

"Now go on your way. I have crimes to solve."

"Eat the pastry." With a jaunty wave, she left.

He waited a few minutes before going behind his desk to do his research. He wanted to know everything there was to know about the Muldoon family.

* * * * *

She went back to the building. She couldn't have stopped herself if she chained her wrists with zip ties.

The money was in her grasp. All she had to do was to go along with being married to a man who was set to inherit billions.

She could ignore the knots in her stomach and the sheen of perspiration running down her back.

Marriage was not in the books for her. There was only a slight pang because she wanted children.

But there were ways to accomplish that without a wedding ring or a man. She could do insemination, and she had been thinking about it.

She hadn't said anything to her brother, but there was that. Or adoption.

There were millions of children not only in this country, but around the world who could benefit from a loving home.

She was getting two million dollars. As soon as she entered into this fake marriage, the money would be hers.

He thought she was materialistic and shallow, but that's fine too. His opinion did not really matter.

They were entering into a business deal. It was nothing personal, and she would get her dream.

She had taken a cab because parking was a bitch at this time of day. She stood on the slightly crumbling sidewalk and gazed at the storefront building.

It was tucked between a jewelry store and a bakery and was quaint and charming. It just needed a little cosmetic renovation.

A paint job here and there. The owners had used it for a dance studio that had gone belly up two years ago.

Now they were selling.

She could practically hold it within her grasp. She would not have to do much to the interior.

A modeling agency with a difference. She already had the name.

"Natural Beauty." It might sound corny, but that's exactly what it was going to be.

No airbrushed models who existed on coffee and cigarettes. She would take in real people, ones with curves, lines on their skins, lumps, and warts and all.

She wanted normal people to see that nothing was out of their grasp.

She had been modeling long enough to be disgusted by the rat race. Yes, she was fortunate to be born with a beautiful face and a body made for wearing furs and painted on jeans, as one photographer had told her rapturously before he tried to get her into bed.

Her girls and guys would be treated with respect, not just objects. She had been inside several times.

She knew every crevice and corner of the building. The paint was peeling in places, but that could be sorted out easily.

There was a reception area already. She would add some colors, bold orange, red, green, blue.

Her signature.