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“Hey, boss, where do you want me and the guys to get started?”
Smiling, I pat his shoulder.
His brows bunch together. “You’re smiling. You don’t do that.”
“Things are looking up for me. Come on, we have a lot of work to do.”
***P***
As I stroll into the Wife for Hire Agency two days later, I ponder on what Kinsley’s reaction will be.
Shock. Anger. Definitely anger.
Gail greets me at her office door. “Today’s the big day.” She gestures for me to go inside.
“It is.”
“Are you nervous?” she asks as she sits behind her desk.
“Anxious,” I reply.
“I’ll print the paperwork,” she says.
There’s a knock at the door.
“Come in,” Gail calls out.
Gail bounces out of the chair. “Kinsley, I’d like you to meet your future husband.”
My heart is in my throat as I stand to meet her with a cool demeanor. I’m fucking sweating under my suit. Shit, this doesn’t happen. The last time it had happened was on our first date. I extend my hand.
Gail continues, “Nickulas Pitucco.”
I ignore the shock in her chestnut eyes. As I pull the back of her hand to my lips. I flash that cocky smirk she had loved once upon a time.
My lips make contact with her soft skin, and I feel a spark.
The look in her eyes tells me she’s ready to bolt.
"The future Mrs. Pitucco," I state with confidence.
She snatches her hand away. "No, I'm not."
Kinsley turns to Gail. “There has to be another suitor.”
“None that was willing to give you a large sum of money up front for your research,” Gail says.
Kinsley’s fists curl at her sides. “Does the agency know what you do for a living?”
Her eyes focus on a spot on the desk.
“Yes, they do,” I reply.
“What happened to your wife? Is she dead?” Kinsley spits out.
Gail doesn’t bat an eye.
“She is.” I pick up a pen from the desk.
