Marry Me for Money
Copyright © 2014 by Mia Kayla
All rights reserved.
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Copy Editor and Interior Designer: Jovana Shirley, Unforeseen Editing,
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Content Editor and Proof Editor: Kayla Robichaux and Becky Johnson, Hot Tree Editing,
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No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without the written permission of the author, except
for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
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To Marvin, my very own happily-ever-after. You’re my book boyfriend come to life and I can’t wait to see how our story unfolds.
The woman was beautiful. She looked like a supermodel ready to walk the runway. The blackest of black eyelashes swept upward, accenting the depths of her emerald eyes. Curls of mahogany sat on top of her head while the apple of her cheeks were highlighted with a slight pink as if the sun had kissed her.
I should have been excited. I should have been anxious.
But as my heartbeat thrashed in my ears, all I felt was dread.
I sat on the stool, staring at the girl in the mirror. I wondered who this girl was. I wondered where the old girl had gone and how I could get her back. The problem was I couldn’t. The lie was so deep, the charade so long that there was nowhere else to go, but to move forward.
It was an out-of-body experience as the chaos of the circus around me was happening. I hardly noticed the woman in front of me as she swished her little brush of pink gloss on my pouty lips.
Everybody was getting ready for the big day.
My big day.
Four photographers were scattered around the room, catching every moment and every detail from the shoes to the invitation to the flowers.
Orchids.
Orchids didn’t give off a scent like every other flower. Too much water would drown them. Not enough sunlight would kill them. They were useless and high maintenance.
So, when the florist had asked me what kind of flowers I would like for my bouquet, I’d said, “Orchids.”
It was the flower I despised the most. It wasn’t because of its lack of beauty or its uselessness, but I didn’t want anything that I would pick for my real day.
The photographers moved to the king-sized bed, and they snapped pictures of the regal designer wedding gown. This was another thing I never would have picked for myself. I remembered my last fitting. I had barely squeezed into the strapless couture dress. I would never choose a dress that I couldn’t walk, dance, or eat in. I hated it, and that was the reason I’d picked it.
My stomach growled from starvation. I had no appetite the night before, and today Kendy, my maid of honor, wouldn’t allow me to eat. It was so unlike her. I guessed it was for my benefit because I could barely fit into my dress. Either way, my stomach was eating itself because it had nothing else to feed off of.
The time went by slowly as if it were dragging on purpose to punish me for living the biggest lie of my life. Everyone always said their wedding day had flown by. This day was killing me, killing me softly and slowly.
All I wanted was for it to be over, but the day had just begun.
I took a deep breath and closed my eyes.
If I can only get through this day…this one day…
I just needed to get through today.
Four Months EarlierOne Financial Bank stood in the heart of the financial district in downtown Chicago. Directly in front of my new office building, I peered up at the magnificent architectural masterpiece of glass windows encompassing all seventy-five floors and smiled the biggest smile ever. This was exactly where I wanted to be. All those late nights spent studying in the library and working random jobs to pay for school had gotten me to this point and in front of this big, bad bank.
I took the deepest breath of my life, made my way through the revolving doors, and stopped at the security desk. I took in my surroundings. Men and women, all dressed in their pressed dark suits, emerged through the revolving doors, most with a Starbucks coffee in hand. I straightened my skirt, pulled at my navy suit jacket, and exhaled a sigh of relief.
I made it. I’m meant to be here. Finally, somewhere I fit right in.
“You’ll have a lot of team meetings next week to discuss the pipeline and also online training. I’ll put everything in your calendar, so you’ll know.” Renee, my new manager, stepped from the elevator and I followed behind her.
Low cubicles spanned the length of the office area. It was already eight fifteen in the morning, and everyone was busy at their desks, typing away on their computers. I made a mental note to make it to work earlier. I wanted to be one of the first people in the office, not the trailing last that shouted slacker. I had never been one, and I wasn’t going to start now.
A grin was fixed on my face, and I could feel my cheeks hurting already.
“This place is intense, but you’ll like it here. We work hard, and you young people play hard,” Renee said.
My smile widened and inside I was singing at the top of my lungs.
“I’m excited,” I told her, not like she couldn’t already tell.
Everyone’s eyes followed me as I walked behind Renee. I met their stares and smiled slightly toward them, but I kept my ear-to-ear cheeky grin to myself. I didn’t want to scare people away.
Renee introduced me to the group—my team. “Everyone, this is Bethany Casse, our new underwriter. She’s a fresh graduate from Indiana State University.”
One by one, my team stood from the seats in their cubicles to introduce themselves. I shook each person’s hand firmly and learned that my division consisted of bankers on the sales team and another underwriter, like myself. Where the bankers were in the business to wine and dine and get more clients, underwriters were in the business to assess the risk of the deals the bankers made.