From Fake To Forever. Kat Cantrell

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From Fake To Forever - Kat Cantrell


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in order to pursue mine, it would be beneficial to have my affairs in order. Correction—affair. I have no interest in being married. To you, or anyone. So sign the papers and everyone wins.”

      Now he was thoroughly intrigued, especially because he’d never in a million years label the reuniting of Lynhurst as a dream. It was a fact. “What’s your dream, Meredith? Tell me.”

      “Why?” she asked suspiciously. “More leverage?”

      Oh, yeah, she was no dummy. And that turned him on as much as everything else in her full package. More maybe. The fact that she was so savvy about his motivation changed it instantly. “No, because I’m curious. My mouth has been between your legs. That gives me special rights to know what’s between your ears, too.”

      Her long, slow smile blew the blank expression away. Better. And worse.

      “You win. But only because that’s a great point and I happen to like it.” She retrieved another beer and handed him a second, as well, then settled into her chair.

      He tapped the longneck. “Trying to get me drunk so you can take advantage of me?”

      She snorted. “Honey, I don’t need alcohol for that.”

      Unfortunately, she might be right. All the more reason to nail down an agreement about their future interaction—which would be minimal. “So I made a great point. You liked it. Spill your beans.”

      “I’m buying into my sister’s wedding-dress business.” And then she clammed up with a show of drinking her beer.

      There was more. He could sense it beneath the surface. “Seems like being married might be a bonus for that line of work.”

      “It’s not, okay? Not this way.” She shook her head. “I can’t tell my family I did tequila shots in Vegas and wound up married to some guy. They’d never take me seriously again.”

      As he thoroughly and uniquely understood the sentiment, he grinned. “You make it sound tawdry. You can’t tell them we fell in love?”

      “Please. You can’t even say that with a straight face and neither could I. They’d wonder why we haven’t had any contact in two years, for one thing.”

      “Now that you mention it, I’m curious. Did you ever think about looking me up?”

      He had briefly entertained the idea of contacting her on the plane home but then dismissed it as he hashed through mental plans about what it would take to get Lynhurst Enterprises back together. Besides, no one could be involved with Meredith long-term; the idea was ludicrous. She wasn’t the kind of woman you settled down with. She was too lush, too distracting, too…everything. She’d compelled him to make stupid decisions without even opening her mouth.

      He’d known then she’d spell disaster for his plans. Regrettably, he’d underestimated how catastrophic she’d ultimately be.

      “Not once.” Casually, she lifted the beer to her lips. Too casually, and he saw the guilt in the depths of her eyes. But why she’d lie was a mystery. “We agreed to part ways in Vegas. The Grown-Up Pact wasn’t about actually staying married, right? It was about proving we could take grown-up steps. If we could do it together, we could do it apart. So why stonewall me on this divorce? Makes no sense.”

      “Does, too. Getting married had value. Staying married has advantages, too.”

      “For you. Though I have yet to hear how.”

      The time had come to lay it all on the line. “In order to reunite Lynhurst Enterprises, I have to take a strategic plan to the executive committees of Lyn Couture and Hurst House Fashion. My former fiancée’s father owns the largest textile company in Asia and our marriage would have solidified a partnership with Lyn Couture, thus lowering production costs dramatically. Hurst House would want to benefit from this association and from my leadership.”

      Meredith could never fill that gap, but there had to be some way to spin this situation to his advantage.

      “My sister, Avery,” he continued, “was the second half of the plan. She runs the branding and marketing for Hurst House and we planned for her to quit Hurst House to come work for Lyn. Without her, the company would flounder, thus forcing my father, the current CEO of Hurst, to consider merging.”

      There was more, much more, but he kept those cards close to the vest. She didn’t need to know his entire strategy.

      “That’s quite brilliant.” Genuine appreciation shone from Meredith’s gaze. “Sorry a weekend in Vegas a million years ago messed it all up.”

      The weekend in Vegas had helped him conceive this plan. Without it, he might never have come up with it. Ironic that the same weekend had come back to bite him.

      “There’s more. Avery’s not on board with the plan anymore. She wants the CEO spot and I wouldn’t put it past her to cook up her own scheme.” Instantly, he knew how Meredith could provide that missing advantage. “I need someone she doesn’t know to be my spy at Hurst House. Someone firmly on my side who can tell me what she’s up to.”

      Meredith lit up but then quickly tamped back her excitement. “You want me to be a spy in a New York fashion house? In exchange for a divorce? That doesn’t seem like a fair trade.”

      “Really?” Nonchalantly, he swallowed the last of his beer. “What would?”

      A crafty glint in her eye raised the hair on the back of his neck.

      “You have to put me on the payroll.”

      That’s what she wanted? He’d expected her to ask for full marriage benefits, which would have been very difficult to refuse. Though he would have refused, for the sake of Lynhurst. He couldn’t afford to let a woman cloud his vision. “Sure. I have no problem compensating you, though you’d have to be on the payroll at Hurst so no one suspects anything. What else?”

      “The marriage stays a secret, now and after the divorce is final. I can’t let it become known or my wedding-dress dream is over.”

      “That’s easy. I don’t care for anyone to know about it, either.”

      If Avery got ahold of that bit of information, she’d use it to her advantage somehow. The last thing Jason needed was to give someone leverage—someone other than him, that was.

      She eyed him. “That’s not what it sounded like a minute ago. You were all set to blab to your family about how we were in love.”

      “I was kidding. Love might make the world go round, but it tears businesses apart.” Like his parents’ failed marriage had done to Lynhurst Enterprises. He’d never repeat his father’s mistakes. “The only reason to marry someone is if it gets you closer to where you want to be.”

      “I see. Marriage is your weapon. How romantic.” She rolled her eyes. “Lucky me.”

      “Marriage is a tool,” he corrected. “Romance is for losers who can’t figure out how to get a woman into bed. I suffer from no such limitations.”

      “You might be surprised at what I consider romantic.” She swept him with a heated once-over that slammed through him with knock-down, drag-out force.

      “You’re not going to be my wife in anything other than the legal sense. This is a strictly platonic deal, Meredith. I’m serious.”

      Her laugh rolled through him. “We’ll see about that. It’s not like you’re suffering from a broken heart.”

      He had the distinct feeling he’d inadvertently challenged her to turn him into a liar. “So that means we’re agreed?”

      “I’ll help you in exchange for the divorce, but only for a few weeks. I want twenty grand, not some measly minimum-wage salary. And you have to foot the bill for my hotel room.”

      He stuck out his hand and Meredith shook it. “Welcome to Lynhurst.”

      “Happy


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