One Summer In New York. Trish Wylie

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One Summer In New York - Trish Wylie


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strictly business, of course.” Ethan continued with his proposition. “An engagement in name only.”

      So Holly’s second marriage proposal was to be just as unromantic as her first.

      A twinge of despair pinged through her.

      Ethan was suggesting a fake engagement to appease his aunt and get her to retire before poor health tarnished her standing. She understood why he was asking, but she didn’t see what would be in it for her.

      He anticipated her immediate trepidation and added, “We can negotiate a contract that is mutually beneficial.”

      “That certainly sounds cut and dried, Mr. Benton.”

      Even having this discussion was making her uncomfortable. Because it brought up notions like a little girl’s dreams and happily-ever-afters. Thoughts she couldn’t afford to linger on. Not then and not now.

      She squinted at him. “Could you please get up?”

      “I can.”

      He rose, yet still held out the beer bottle label. Looking down at it he assured her, “We would purchase a proper engagement ring.”

      “Let’s put the paper ring down for a minute, okay?”

      He laid it gently onto the coffee table as if it was a thing of great value. “I have a scenario...” He gestured toward the sofa.

      She followed him, but this time didn’t sit next to him as she had when they were eating pizza. She chose one of the black chairs opposite him. Best to keep her distance.

      “May I be frank?”

      “Oh...okay,” Holly answered with apprehension.

      “You are new to New York. You mentioned that you do not yet have work. You mentioned that you could not afford to stay in a hotel. I am offering you very easy temporary employment. Pose as my fiancée. What I would pay you will help you establish yourself here. Shall we bring it to the bargaining table? Name your price.”

      “Name my price!” Such a ruthless businessman! Everything was a deal to him. “Are you used to getting everything you want simply by demanding it?”

      “Oh, I always get what I want.” His stare drilled into her.

      Wow, what a predator. And why did that excite her rather than repel her?

      Just for entertainment’s sake, she took a minute to fantasize what being his pretend fiancée might be like. She’d probably be physically near him quite a bit. He’d have his arm around her shoulder. Sometimes around her waist. They’d hold hands. He’d probably even place a kiss on her cheek in front of other people, just to put on a convincing show.

      Holly snuck a glance at his mouth. Ripe lips that looked to be endlessly kissable. No way would a plan that involved her standing close to his lips ever, ever be a good idea.

      But it didn’t matter, because she was just playing along hypothetically. “I’m not for hire by the hour!” She feigned indignation.

      “There need not be anything sordid about it, Miss Motta.” Ethan eyed the paper ring on the table. “I assure you I am only proposing a trade agreement.”

      She didn’t doubt that. This was a man who’d already said he kept company with stunning, glamorous women who ate one green bean. He’d never be interested in her romantically. She’d have nothing to worry about there.

      But she couldn’t resist throwing in for fun, “My brother, Vince, is up for a promotion in your Miami office. Let’s say this deal included helping him along in his career...”

      “Done,” Ethan answered quickly. “I would have to look at his human resources file and speak with the people who work with him. But if he is deserving, I would certainly look to promote my future brother-in-law.”

      He leaned forward. Even though there was the coffee table between them, she could feel him zeroing in on her. Coming in for the kill. Determined to make the sale.

      “What else, Miss Motta?”

      He was so maddeningly sure of himself. Holly hadn’t met many people who were like that.

      She sat dumbfounded, way out of her league.

      Ethan raised a finger in the air with a thought. “Shall we consider it another way? You need somewhere to live. How about if I give you this apartment? I will put it in your name.”

      Holly tried to keep her eyes from bugging out. How about if I give you this apartment? Who even said that?

      “As you can imagine, real estate is something I have as a bartering tool. Regardless of what happens, you will have a home in New York.”

      A home in New York. He really did know how to persuade a deal.

      “What is it that might happen?” She had no intention of taking him up on his offer, but she was curious. “How is it that you see this working?”

      He’d obviously thought this through well. Today was Monday. His aunt Louise and her boy-toy husband, Fernando, would be coming down from Boston this week in preparation for their Saturday shareholders’ gala. He’d present Holly to them on Wednesday night.

      “Dinner. Le Cirque. Or one of the new Asian-Spanish fusion restaurants in Tribeca. Something flashy that shows us as a hip New York couple on top of the trends.”

      “How about instead I throw a pot roast in the slow cooker?” Holly countered, batting him the idea.

      His mouth tipped. “A home-cooked meal? Like she and Uncle Mel used to make on Sundays? Brilliant!”

      Holly was no gourmet cook, but she knew how to work with the basics. She’d had to learn if she and her brother were ever going to eat. When they were kids she’d search through the pockets of pants left on the floor. Between the couch cushions. Under the seats in the car. Somehow she’d find enough money to buy a few groceries and put a meal together for her and Vince. Restaurant visits had been few and far between.

      “Mashed potatoes. Roasted carrots. Apple pie...” She completed the menu.

      “Perfect. I will try to be of assistance.”

      “Continue,” she requested.

      It was amusing to hear Ethan’s outline for the masquerade that she wasn’t actually going to be any part of.

      Their next appearance would be at the shareholders’ gala on Saturday, where Holly would be formally introduced as Ethan’s fiancée.

      “So I’d look amazing that night? Dress? Jewels? Hair and makeup? The whole nine yards?”

      He sat silent for a minute, as if lost in his own memories. But then he snapped back with, “Of course. A couture gown would be chosen for you. My tuxedo tie will match your attire.”

      “It’d be a crime if it didn’t.”

      Then there would be an engagement party in Boston. A month or so later would come the announcement that Aunt Louise was stepping down. A grand retirement luncheon would send her off in style.

      “In between those dates,” Ethan explained, “I would travel, so that you and I should not have to attend many events together. I will devise reasons that I have to spend prolonged periods in Florence or Sydney or the like.”

      Ethan went on. After those appearances Aunt Louise and Fernando would move to Barbados as planned. Ethan and Holly—the happy couple—would fly to the island for long weekends three or four times during the first year. In between those visits Holly would be free to live the life she chose, as long as there was nothing criminal or anything that attracted attention.

      Then they’d evaluate. They could continue to visit Aunt Louise and make excuses as to why they hadn’t yet married. Or they could tell fibs about a lavish wedding that would take an entire year to plan.

      “Or,” he continued, “especially


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