New York Billionaires Series

She flips my hand over and grips it in both of hers, studying my palm for a few seconds. “Good grip.”

“Mom.”

She releases my hand and sits back down. “Good hands are important, Cece.”

“I know they are.”

Well, I didn’t.

Marguerite locks her eyes on mine. She’s going to be the one in control of this conversation, I think. Not me and not Cecilia. “I wanted to meet the man my daughter married as part of a business transaction,” she says.

I nod. “I’m sure I would have wanted the same.”

Her eyes narrow. “You’re also the one my daughter spent a year working for, on evenings and weekends. Fetching your dry-cleaning and ordering your lunches.”

Cecilia’s voice is fierce. “Mom, that’s not all I did. You know I learned a lot from my years at Exciteur. I attended conferences, I traveled.”

“I know. But I also know that the man right here made your life very difficult for a long time. It’s a good thing that he learns that.”

“He knows,” Cecilia says. She sounds embarrassed.

My hands are white-knuckled in my lap. “I’m aware, Miss Myers. Cecilia did excellent work for me and I didn’t appreciate her enough. I like to think she gained valuable experience, though, and learned things to apply to her own business. But that’s only a hope. I’ve apologized to her for the times I stepped out of line.”

“I did learn a lot,” Cecilia says. “You’re talking like he took advantage of me with this marriage. Like I said, it’s a mutually beneficial agreement. It has a start and end date. We signed a contract, Mom.”

“Contract,” her mother says. The word is infused with dislike. “Contracts can be broken.”

I brace my hands against the table. The stakes are high, and beneath my feet, I can feel the thin tightrope I’m treading. “Not by me, they won’t,” I say. “The contract Cecilia and I signed was checked by three separate lawyers. It protects her as much as it does me.”

Marguerite waves a hand like that was never the real issue. “Why my daughter? Why did you offer this deal to her?”

We haven’t ordered food yet. I glance toward the waiter, but he’s nowhere to be seen.

Get me a drink. Please.

“Mom, he doesn’t have to justify himself,” Cecilia says. “He has been nothing but professional through this entire process.”

“And that was why you didn’t tell me for months? Cece, you have so much light inside you. I don’t want you to waste it with someone who can’t appreciate it.”

Cecilia’s cheeks are on fire, but her eyebrows are drawn in the same determination mirrored on her mother’s face. One has diamond studs in her ears and the other has feathers dangling, but they’re the same, these two. Different sides to the same coin. It’s a marvelous thing to watch.

“I’m not wasting myself. Victor and I aren’t-it’s not like that. I’m also an adult, capable of making my own decisions.”

I clear my throat. “To tell you the truth, I offered the deal to Cecilia because she was the best person for it. I knew her as someone loyal, competent, intelligent and looking for a new job. In the months since, she’s proven me right a hundred times over. She’s all that and more.”

Marguerite’s gaze meets mine. I don’t look away. Let her see how true every single one of those words were.

“Well,” Marguerite says. “You know, honey, that it’s not the transaction itself I’m disapproving of. Marriage is an archaic institution. If you two have managed to reinvent the wheel and both gain from it, more power to you. I just don’t want to see you being exploited by this young man here.”

“I’m not,” Cecilia says. Her voice is firm. “Please trust me when I say I’m not.”

I focus on Marguerite. “I understand your concern, and I’m sure I would feel the same in your position. Ask whatever you’d like tonight. I’ll answer.”

It’s risky as hell, giving someone that power. But Cecilia had asked me to do this. So do this I will.

Cecilia looks at me with warm eyes. Like she’s glad I’m here. Like she hears more than just the words I’m saying.

I look down at the menu.

We order eventually. Marguerite and Cecilia decide to share dishes, something it seems they do often at restaurants. They chatter about options, and in my mind, all I can see is the timer.

Until I get rid of St. Clair.

Halfway through the meal, Marguerite clears her throat. “You clearly have an arrangement that works. I felt myself slipping into the territory of judgement earlier, and those are not the fields I like to wander.”

“Mom,” Cecilia murmurs.

“It’s a metaphor. Look, Victor, St. Clair, whatever you like to go by. If what you and my daughter have told me is true, then I’m happy for you. You’re both gaining from the experience. Perhaps gaining understanding and sympathy for the other, as well? But I’m getting ahead of myself.”

“Thank you, Miss Myers,” I say.

“Call me Marguerite. Miss Myers is my daughter. Or I guess she’s Mrs. St. Clair now?”

Cecilia shakes her head. “I didn’t change my name.”

No, she never had. Her name wasn’t really Mrs. St. Clair, as much as I might tease her about it. Why would she change it legally, when we only have seven months and twenty-two days left.

“I’ll just tell the two of you one more thing. You should get out of the city for a bit. Both of you. You’re too pale, Victor.” She shakes her head again, reaching for her glass of red. “Working all the time isn’t balanced.”

“We have to work,” Cecilia says.Text property © Nôvel(D)ra/ma.Org.

“No one has to. It’s a decision.” She shrugs, looking between the two of us with glittering eyes. “Maybe this little fake marriage of yours will even become real by the end?”

Cecilia gives a pained laugh and shoots me a look out of the corner of her eye. I look out at the other guests and pretend not to see. If she wants me to laugh with her at the preposterousness of the idea, I can’t.

Not anymore.

We’re quiet in the car on the way home. Cecilia has the air of someone about to speak, but whatever she’s working up to doesn’t emerge.

It isn’t until we’re back home that it does. Her voice is soft. “I’m sorry about that. I know it wasn’t easy for you.”

“It was fine.”

“No, she… she implied a lot of things, and assumed others.”

“She’s protective. I’m glad your mother is like that.”

Cecilia nods, eyes searching mine. “Okay. Thanks for dinner, and thank you for doing that. I know you had other plans tonight.”