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This was such a bad idea. The guy was a hopeless flirt. I was going to be a laughingstock. But at least I’d be a giant joke who still had custody of her own child.
Rocco turned back toward Jesse. “To answer your question, you are correct. I could propose to almost any woman, and if my reputation didn’t sway them, my bank balance would. Which is precisely why I think marrying Tally would be for the best. We are using each other, and there’s a nobility in that. Besides, I know she isn’t in it for my money. She’s made it very clear she doesn’t care about my reputation.” He raised a brow at me, though it wasn’t strictly true. I’d fangirled just as much as anyone else when I’d first learned Rocco Passero was coming to drive for the team.
“Plus, we have a lot in common. So if I have to tie myself to someone for three years, it is probably best that we have shared interests, otherwise it would make for some terrible dinner conversation.” He laughed at his own joke, before turning serious again. “And a little bit of it is old-fashioned chivalry. Tally is in a situation that I could make go away, and it makes me feel good to do it.”
Hayes stared at him. “They’re the only reasons? Shared interests, convenience and chivalry? It’s not because you feel any desire toward Tally?” He dropped his voice. “Tally won’t be coerced into something to show gratitude. I think you both should agree to keeping the relationship platonic.”
I raised my eyebrows. That was some serious audacity. Part of me understood that he wanted some reassurance that I wasn’t about to turf him out for a hot rich guy. However, the feminist part of me wanted to dick-punch him for believing he could just make sweeping statements like that.
Rocco chuckled. “I promise not to make any moves on your girl, unless she expressly, vigorously asks me for it.”
They were all looking at me now, and I could feel the pink heat on my cheeks, so I was probably as red as a beet. Well, this is awkward.
I cleared my throat. “I, uh, I’m happy for you to see other people to meet your needs on the side, if you have to. Just keep it discreet, I guess?”
He gave me a long stare. “I was raised Roman Catholic. The sanctity of marriage and all that. Well, up until we get a divorce. I just won’t tell my family about that one.”
I gave him the side-eye. “So what, you’re going to be a monk for three years?”
He screwed up his nose. “No. I’ll possibly get escorts. Prostitutes don’t count—at least, not in my family.”
Ugh. I hated the thought. Although, considering I was going to be fucking two other guys right there under his roof, I didn’t really have a high horse to climb on. Instead, I nodded, like I didn’t give a crap. “Okay. Sounds good.”
Just then, the waitress returned with our food. She eyeballed Jesse with the baby against his chest, and the way Hayes had his arm over my shoulders. It was clear she couldn’t quite figure it out, but it was none of her business.
“So, what next?” I asked the table, but no one really answered. Clearly, we were all just winging this and hoping for the best.
Although I’d been exaggerating when I told the guys that it would take twenty minutes to get married, it turned out I wasn’t far off. The day after the diner, I signed a bunch of paperwork from Rocco’s lawyers in a small conference room at the courthouse. Luckily, Antony had sent VANT’s lawyers to ensure I wasn’t about to sign over a vital organ or my first-born.
It was basically what you’d expect from a prenuptial agreement, except there was a clause that gave me a ten-million-dollar settlement, should we divorce, as well as another five million in a trust for Bobbi-June, which would go into effect as soon as we married.
I stared at the clause, then over at the enigmatic driver, who seemed to be lost in his own thoughts on the other side of the table. “Rocco?” I murmured quietly, and his dark eyes snapped to mine.
“Yes, Stellina?”
“That’s a lot of money.”
He rolled his eyes. “Merely a token, should we go our separate ways. It would look bad if I left you with nothing.”
That seemed like a rather drastic guilt gift. I looked at my borrowed lawyer, who was giving me the professional version of the are you stupid, take the money look. “It’s a generous offer, Miss Palmer.”
So I grabbed the pen Rocco’s lawyer held out, and signed on the dotted line. Then the lawyer handed me a marriage license, and I filled out the relevant parts.
Everything that was written about Rocco on that form was published on the internet, from his middle name to his birthday. Hell, I’d even seen pictures of his parents in the tabloids, as well as his brothers, who were also in the Formula One world, though not as drivers. They were good looking too, but he was definitely the most handsome of the four.
Rocco quickly signed his sections and handed them over to my lawyer. One of his lawyers lodged the application online, and then we were basically married, except for the officiant ceremony. I looked at my watch. Our appointment to stand before a judge was in ten minutes, and that would be it. I would be Tally Palmer-Passero.
The guys were waiting on hard plastic chairs outside the room, with Bobbi-June asleep in her carrier. They looked solemn, like I was walking to my execution, not to get married.
I gave them what I hoped was a reassuring smile. “Relax, guys.”
Jesse gave me a sympathetic expression, while Hayes lifted his chin toward the other side of the corridor, where Willy and Colin stood.
Whoops.
I’d known they were going to be pissed. I’d intended to tell them, really. I hadn’t been keeping it a secret on purpose; it was just everything had been moving so fast.
“Well, this isn’t what it looks like,” I said lightly, but it didn’t make anyone laugh. Eesh, big trouble.
