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We're expecting big things from you, don't let us down.
David
Brittany rubbed a weary hand across her eyes and quickly reread the email.
Eight weeks. Two brief months to collate information, get the photography done, and perfect her pitch. Oh, and throw in a snap wedding.
What was she thinking?
But if the wedding didn't happen, she wouldn't have access to the farm, and no access meant no chance at the promotion anyway. Her hands were tied. So why did it feel like her insides were following suit?
Off the record, David had virtually assured her the managing director role if she presented a killer pitch. She should be doing cartwheels. Instead, the longer she stared at her boss's email, the more aware she became of exactly how far away London was from Noosa…and her soon-to-be husband who resided here.
Chapter Fourteen
'This place has changed so much.'
Brittany's head swivelled from side to side as she strolled along Hastings Street, Noosa's main thoroughfare, with Nick.
He nodded. ‘Boutiques, cafés, restaurants, five-star hotels. We almost rival London in the trendy stakes, huh?'
'Almost.'
London had a vibe all of its own and she loved it, but coming home to find Noosa had turned hip and cosmopolitan was a nice surprise.
Nick laid a hand on her arm and she stopped, more startled by his touch than Noos’as transformation. 'There is one thing we didn't discuss the other night.'
Just one? She could think of several, including how platonic this marriage would be, where they would live, how long they'd keep up the pretence. And that was just for starters.
'What's that?'
'How long you're staying.’
They may not have discussed this the other night but he had already asked the same question and she’d avoided it. But now she had a definitive timeline from David, she had to tell Nick the truth. They had eight weeks to make it look as if they had a pretend marriage for real.
But what if the timeline was too short for him and reneged? Where did that leave her? Without access to his farm and without the promotion she’d worked her ass off for.
She couldn’t risk it.
'All depends on how long the job takes.’ Shrugging, she pointed to the tapas bar they'd stopped outside. ‘Fancy a snack? I'm starving.'
'Okay.' He led her into the bar, to a cosy table in the furthest corner, and ordered for them before turning that penetrating dark gaze back on her. 'So are we talking two months? Four? Longer?'
'You're really hung up on this timeline thing, aren't you?'
He raised an eyebrow. 'I wouldn't call it a hang-up. An honest answer will do.'
Hating the little white lie she had to tell, she said, 'As long as it takes. I have the workers in place, so once we're married I can really get stuck in.'
She picked at an olive from a tray that had been placed in front of them. 'I guess you want to know what happens after I'm done.'
To her surprise, he shook his head. 'Not really. I'm more concerned with the here and now, and solidifying my reputation with investors.'
She could leave well enough alone. In fact, she'd rather be discussing anything than their cold, calculating marriage scheduled for the morning.
But if she left in two months as planned, where would that leave Nick and his precious reputation?
'So when I leave…' She trailed off, not wanting to voice her doubts out loud. The way she saw it, she was getting the better end of this deal: full access to the farm to nail her promotion, then she walked away, back to her old life, leaving Nick to fend off curiosity about why his marriage fell apart so quickly and the possible financial fallout from his investors.
