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“Why me?” I ask. Is it just I’m here at the right, or maybe wrong, time? Is it just convenient for him?
“Well, I can’t imagine you actually falling for me. The last thing I want is to be tied to another person. I can barely stand being in the same room as anyone,” he says bluntly, and I can tell from his phrasing that he’s being completely honest.
I raise a brow; he’s not even trying to hide what a jerk he is. Is he really trying to convince me to go through with this? Why would I help someone so arrogant and rude? Why would I tie myself to him for any amount of time?
“You’re right, I wouldn’t fall for you. If I may speak frankly, sir?” I ask and he motions for me to continue. “You are arrogant and a completely anti-social jerk who doesn’t even use the very good social skills I know you have when trying to gain someone’s favor.”
I gesture to myself.
“Instead, you would rather put me off even more than I already am.” I cross my arms. “So no thank you. I would not like to ‘marry you.’ I will continue to work in the hotel as a maid and I won’t tell anyone about this.”
Adrian raises a brow, though a small, surprised smile flickers across his face before it drops completely again. He seems to think for a bit, and I take that as my cue to leave. I turn and right as my hand touches the doorknob, he speaks.
“I will double the salary I offered, and if you stick it out at least six months then I will add a twenty grand bonus,” he says.
I pause and look back over my shoulder where he holds his phone out to me. The calculator app shows clear as day the number he’s added up. The amount of money I would receive for being his ‘wife.’
I hesitate to say no again, my throat swelling with the desire to agree. But I can’t, I can’t! I can’t deal with this man for that long, not for any amount of money. But that much money… I could get my name changed. I could get my identity changed the correct way, pay for a lawyer to advocate for me even though I’m an immigrant. I could do it all on the down low while still doing it legally.
I would fly right under his nose.
My hand flutters in the air uncertainly. The price is tantalizing. So much so that I could salivate. But eventually my common sense breaks through and I shake my head resolutely, denying his tempting words. I refuse it and instantly watch that money fall away from me. I watch my future fall away.
“No, I’m sorry sir, but I can’t be what you need. I won’t let myself be bought for such an insane plot and I won’t let you use me the way you want,” I say, and I speak like I’m doing it for a better reason than just hating his personality.
From the way he looks at me, though, he knows exactly how I feel. He rolls his eyes, irritated. Any sort of political civility he pretends to have evaporates as he scowls. I shake my head.
“Look, I won’t be able to fake it, therefore I can’t be what you need. I truly am sorry,” I tell him.
And it’s true. I’m sorry I can’t help him, that cash would have been nice. I look at him, and part of me trembles under the force of that glare, that frustration, but I push it away, and carefully affix the mask of Amelia the Maid back on. I smile gently, and if I hadn’t been shooting my mouth off just seconds before, one would think I was mild-mannered.
“Have a good night, Mr. Saunders,” I say, and bob my head.
When the door clicks closed behind me, I take a deep breath, finally out from under the pressure of my boss’s gaze. I can’t believe I just told him no and called him an arrogant jerk. I am near shaking when I remember the burn of his gaze against my skin. The scent of rug cleaner washes the smell of spicey clove from my senses. Something I assume is left over from my close vicinity to Adrian—to Mr. Saunders.
I have never felt so out of control. I said no, I showed that I was in control right then, so why do I feel so physically sick? Nausea rises through my body in waves and tremors shake my arms and legs. It makes pushing off the door I’ve collapsed against nearly impossible.
I glance back at the solid wood. It’s not painted like all the other doors in the hotel, instead it’s polished cherry wood and so shiny it reeks of privilege. It’s a portal to a world I will never live in again, I refuse to. I won’t subject myself to the kind of hatred that swims there again.
With that thought settling the feeling of sickness that has been riding me since leaving his suite, I head down to the elevator. Back to my job where I belong, a place where I’m nothing but a maid, nothing but a face in the crowd. I like that, I chose that, and I’d choose it again. With each step that puts more space between me and the giant check that dangled before me, my spine straightens and I grow taller. My confidence shines, even though a voice in the back of my head reminds me how many zeroes I just walked away from and how free my life could have been.
CHAPTER 5
ADRIAN
It’s been two days since I was horribly turned down by Amelia for a contract marriage.
I can’t believe she said no after how much I offered her, but it seems like not everyone can be bought. I wait and hope to hear back from her in the next twenty-four hours since she seemed uncertain. But she doesn’t. I do see her around the hotel whenever I wander down to the lobby to greet a business partner, and she seems busy and unphased. I don’t know why I am as upset as I am. I feel discontent, brushed off. It’s hard to ignore.
Today I am working through a pile of folders holding the names of possible marriage candidates that others have recommended to me. Women who want money, who I can hopefully pay off, but the faces stare back at me, flat and apathetic, despite the way their teeth shine white.
I sigh and finally settle on a woman with long, curly red hair. Her eyes are a little less emotionless than the other ones and I hope it means she has what it takes. I don’t hold my breath though.
“Russell,” I call out.
The older man walks through the door of the office. “Yes sir?”
I hold out the profile information of the woman. “Please make a reservation at a restaurant you think she will like.”
