The Convenient Wife (A BWWM Steamy Marriage of Convenience Romance) (8 page)

“I don’t know what else to tell you,
Gigi. He can’t stay here, and I can’t foot the bill for whatever upscale home
you want him in. Just pick something that his insurance can cover and let it
go.”

What
a piece of shit
, I
thought, looking at my brother in disbelief. How could he be so casual about
the way our own father was going to live out the rest of his life?

“You’re a piece of work.”

“Listen, it’s not just me, Mary
doesn’t want anything to do with Dad, either. She’s heard enough of me
complaining that she doesn’t even want a man like him in our girls’ lives.”

“She’s never even met the man, Jon!
And what did you tell him? That he hit you? That’s a load of shit. Dad’s just
had a hard time with everything after Mom died—”

“You can’t keep making excuses for
him, Gigi!” he roared, cutting me off. “Mom can’t be Dad’s crutch forever. It’s
not her fault that he became a drunken piece of shit. His failings shouldn’t be
her legacy!”

“I can’t keep listening to you, Jon.
I just can’t,” I said, rubbing my temples to ease the stress that was building.
“Dad needs our help, and all you’ve
ever
done was leave. You left him
and
me.
So you got what you wanted, I’ll figure something else out. And besides, I have
a hell of a lot better things to do today.”

“Don’t take this so personally,
Georgia,” he said as I picked up my purse. “Dad’s the problem here, not me. I’m
not the one who threw his life away.”

I shook my head at him and
shouldered my bag. “No, Tyrell you just threw your
family
away.”

He gave me a hard look then, and I
thought I saw a flash of pain behind his eyes. But he covered it quickly with a
sneer. “I
have
a family, and I
thought you were a part of it,” he said, taking the last swig of his whiskey.
“But I guess I was wrong.”

“Don’t you dare pull that horseshit
with me. You’ve always been the one who leaves, Tyrell. And God help Mary if
she and the girls ever get you in a leaving mood.”

Tyrell set his glass down, his eyes
on the still un-stoppered bottle of whiskey nearby. “Maybe you should go.”

I nodded stiffly. “Yeah, maybe I
should. I have something important I need to take care of and I wouldn’t want
to interrupt your afternoon booze session,
Dad.
”

Jon shot me a glare that could have
curdled milk as he poured himself another glass of the golden liquor.

“And where the hell do you have to
be that’s so important?” he snarled.

I turned toward him, hiking my purse
up over my shoulder before giving him a derisive little laugh.
“Didn’t I tell you?” I said as I
turned toward the door, “I’m getting married today.”

The district courthouse wasn’t my
first choice for a wedding venue, but then again, I’d never actually imagined
I’d be tying the knot. I stood idly in the lobby, wearing a custom-tailored
sports jacket my father had tailored for me.

I looked down at the cuffs of the
jacket, marveling at the embroidered initials sewn into the fabric just below
the cufflinks. This was the last thing my father had gotten me before he died.
In some ways, it was like having him here.

I watched as other people passed me
by, all going about their business within the courthouse. Legal aids, lawyers,
judges, and average people—some of whom were probably about to take the same
leap as me. If only my bride would get here, then maybe this marriage could get
on the road.

It had been almost an hour ago that
Gigi had called to tell me she was getting herself ready to go. But getting
ready and
being
ready were two
completely different things to women. Could it really have taken her that long
to put some clothes on? All we had to do was sign some papers, say “I do,” and
then go out for a nice dinner to celebrate my genius. But first, I’d actually
need my bride.

“I hope I didn’t keep you waiting,” rang
Gigi’s lovely voice from just behind me. I let out a sigh of relief before
turning around, maybe even say something scolding for making me wait.

“Well I’ve been here for almost
twenty—” My words stuck in my throat as I laid my eyes on her. I blinked, the
light of the sun outside shining through the doors and giving her an aura that
was almost angelic.

She wore a white dress with a sleek
silhouette, the fabric glowing radiantly as she made her way toward me. I felt
so strange watching her, her footsteps falling in slow motion as the soft curls
of her hair bounced with every stride. My heart hammered in my chest, blood
rushing to my cheeks just as she came to a halt a few feet away.

“Sorry,” she said with a little
laugh as she looked down at herself. “It took me forever to find this dress.”

“It was worth it,” I breathed. Then
I cleared my throat. “I mean it looks beautiful on you.” What in the hell was
going on?

“Thank you,” Gigi said, her cheeks
darkening just slightly. “I figured I might as well do it up right. It’s not
every day you get fake married…”

Her smile disappeared and her eyes
lost some of their spark. Gigi cast her gaze downward before heaving a sigh.

I felt compelled to sweep her into
my arms. Instead, I fiddled with my cufflinks as I asked her, “What’s wrong?”

She gave the barest of shrugs. “Every
girl dreams of having their white wedding, I guess—that moment where they stand
in front of all their friends and family in a gorgeous white gown, holding a
bouquet of flowers. This isn’t exactly the way I pictured it.”

I felt a pit open in the bottom of
my stomach, my shoulders slumping as I watched what little excitement Gigi had
walked in with fade away. I felt so guilty, turning what she pictured her
wedding to be like into a quick ceremony at the courthouse for some shady paper
marriage.

“We can wait,” I said, cautiously
putting a hand on her shoulder. “We can do something bigger—I mean it. Money’s
no object.”

She let out a laugh, not a harsh
laugh, or even a happy laugh—a sad laugh. Gigi looked up at me and gave me a
faint smile of gratitude as she reached up and squeezed my hand.

“No, it’s all right, really,” she
said, shaking her head. “I think the more we drag this mess out, the more we
might come to start having second thoughts—or worse, your family might get
involved. This is a business arrangement for now. If things work out, we can
renew our vows the right way.”

I gave her a brief nod and a quick
smile, but despite her reassurances, my guilt didn’t fade a single bit. It
wasn’t something I was used to feeling, let alone regret, but seeing her there
in that wedding dress made me realize how little she was getting out of all
this. I felt like a monster for asking her to do this. Sure, I was intrigued by
her… Maybe I had some feelings… But was it enough? What would I do once I had
my inheritance in hand?

“I appreciate that you offered,
Dorian,” she said after an awkward moment of silence. “It means a lot more than
I thought it would.”

“For what it’s worth, I’m sorry,” I
said, offering what I hoped would be a consoling hug, my arms open.

Gigi’s smile brightened a bit as she
wrapped her arms around me for the first time. Her body felt warm against mine,
her curves fitting perfectly into my arms as I enveloped her. A small sense of
comfort fell over me before we broke away from one another, our faces
considerably brighter. Or at least, that’s what I thought I saw in her
expression. I hoped I wasn’t imagining things.

“Shall we?” Gigi asked, motioning
vaguely toward one of the many lines, this one designated for marriage
licenses.

The queue was longer than I’d have
liked, but my impatience aside, the two of us managed to make it to the front
of the line after what felt like an hour of standing. We stepped up to the
counter together, my heart pounding against my ribcage. God, was I actually
nervous?

“Sit, please,” a middle-aged women
sitting behind the counter, indicating a pair of plastic chairs in front of her
desk.

“Your names, please?”

“Georgia Lynn Deveraux and Dorian
Eugene Lambert,” Gigi said, glancing over at me with a forced smile. Without
warning, her fingers laced together with mine and squeezed tight.

“And you’re filing for your marriage
license?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Congratulations,” she said, her
voice sounded anything but excited about our nuptials. “Now, there is a fee
required before—”

“We can pay it now. I have cash,” I
said, my foot thumping nervously. Gigi rubbed her thumb over my knuckles in an
attempt to calm me down, but the anxiety didn’t abate.

“All right,” the clerk said, her
mouth forming a thin. “Then all that’s required is that you take the license
and have the person performing the ceremony return this to the courthouse
within ten days of the wedding.”

“We were actually hoping for a
courthouse ceremony—are those available? We don’t really want to wait.”

Again, the clerk pursed her lips.
She shook her head ever so slightly and turned toward her computer. After a few
clicks and keystrokes, she turned back to the two of us.

“We have an opening for one last
ceremony today, but it’ll be an additional cost for the notary.”

“We’ve got the money,” Gigi said,
turning toward me, her eyebrows raised.

I dug into my pocket and pulled out
my wallet and the cash I’d withdrawn from the ATM moments before I even walked
in the door. I’d been surprisingly forward thinking and actually looked up the
cost of the licensing and the ceremony before I arrived—which was about the
most mature thing I’d done outside of the bedroom in a few years.

“I’ll inform the notary.”

The woman stood up and walked, her
lack of enthusiasm only seeming to grow as she was required to put physical
effort into her job. I couldn’t blame her—government work sounded like the
worst thing ever invented next to genocide and Justin Bieber.

The clerk returned with a wiry man
in tow, dressed in a dark suit with a spindly pair of glasses perched upon his
prominent nose.

“This is them,” the woman said,
motioning vaguely toward me and Gigi.

“The happy couple,” the man said, a
warm smile spreading across his face. “My name is Mr. Holloway. I’m the notary
on duty today.”

Finally,
I thought,
someone who’s at least pretending to be happy about their job.

“Are we ready to begin?” the man
asked, clasping his hands together. He had a wispy, rasping voice, almost like
he was perpetually hoarse.

When Gigi and I both nodded, his
smile widened and the bid us to follow him behind the desk and toward a door
leading deeper into the courthouse.

“We like to hold the ceremonies
somewhere a bit more private than the front lobby, you understand. Keeps the
spectacle private and cuts down on… incidents.”

“What kind of incidents?” I asked,
curiosity getting the better of me.

“Outside parties interfering with
the ceremony. Why, once we had a young lady stop the proceedings and assault
the bride—quite a debacle. They had to rush her to the emergency room.”

“Jesus,” Gigi said, shaking her
head. “People are crazy.”

“To put it mildly,” the notary said
“especially when love is involved. Here we are.”

We stopped in front of a door off a
long hallway, Mr. Holloway turning a key in the shabby-looking lock before
pushing it open.

“Step inside and we’ll begin.”

As Gigi and I stepped into the dark
room, the smell of flowers greeted us. The lights clicked on, and I saw there
was a small, but colorful arrangement sitting on top of a table beneath a white
wooden archway.

I glanced over at Gigi to see a
smile blossoming on her face as the two of us stepped made our way toward the
arch, Mr. Holloway closing the door behind us.

“The flowers are lovely,” Gigi said,
gently brushing her fingers over the petals.

“Oh, I’m glad you think so. I don’t
work often, but when I come in, I try to have a fresh arrangement here for the
ceremonies. Everyone deserves to have flowers at their wedding, don’t you
think?”

Now it was my turn to smile. I
wasn’t sure I ever met a nicer old man before in my life. Deep down, I even
wished my grandfather was like him.

“Shall we begin, then?” he asked,
his smile as wide as ever.

“Yes, please,” Gigi said, taking my
hand as the notary took his place in front of the arch, Gigi and I standing on
either side in front of him.

I could feel the lump in my throat
again as we took our positions, the fluttering in my stomach returning in full
force. God, I couldn’t believe my own fake marriage was giving me the jitters.

“Well, then,” the notary said with a
smile, “We are gathered here today to bind two people in the loving bond of
matrimony. A bond forged with compassion and understanding—a partnership.”

I swallowed hard, looking into
Gigi’s eyes as the notary gave his speech. I felt a crackle of electricity
spark as she met my gaze. Something felt strange.

“Do the two of you have any words to
say before we continue? Vows you wish to share?”

“J-Just the usual,” I managed to
stammer out, drawing an amused quirk of Gigi’s eyebrow.

Mr. Holloway chuckled. “Very well,
then. Do you, Georgia Lynn Deveraux, take Dorian Eugene Lambert to be your
lawfully wedded husband, to have and to hold in sickness and in health?”

“Isn’t there supposed to be a line
about death in there?” I asked.

“Normally, but I found it a little
morbid—and with divorce rates these days, I thought it best to start leaving it
out.”