“Are you mocking me?” I stood absolutely still.
Her narrowed eyes moved across my face, searching for an answer, I presumed. When she couldn’t find what she was looking for, the fight went out of her, and right in front of my eyes, her entire demeanor—which had hardened the second I’d started asking questions about her ex-fiancé—softened and she puffed out a breath.
“You weren’t making a bad joke?”
“Do I look like someone who jokes?”
Making a noncommittal sound, she shifted in place. “At first glance…I can’t say that you do, but I don’t know you enough to be sure.”
“I’ll save you the trouble—I don’t make jokes.”
She gave me a baffled look like I had said something astonishing. “O-kay. I think I’m still going to leave now.”
Just like that, she surprised me and turned away to leave. Before she could open the door, I spoke up.
“You’re not interested in hearing more about my offer then?”
Her hand was already on the glass knob when she stopped. With stiff shoulders, she let go of the door and turned to face me.
After opening and closing her mouth, she looked straight into my eyes from across the room. “Your offer? Just so we’re on the same page and I can make sure I didn’t hear you wrong, could you repeat said offer?”
“I’m offering to marry you.”
Hiking her bag higher on her shoulder, she cleared her throat. “Mr. Hawthorne, I think…I think I’m flattered that you’d—”
“Miss Coleson,” I cut her off bluntly before she could finish her sentence. “I assure you, my marriage offer is strictly a business deal. I’m sure you’re not thinking I’m expressing an interest in you. I was under the impression that you could use my help—was I wrong?”
“Your help? I don’t even know you, and I definitely don’t remember asking for any—”
“If you accept my offer, you’ll have enough time to get to know me.”
“If I accept your offer…which is a business deal disguised as a marriage. I don’t think I’m following you here.”
“Maybe if you explained what you’re having trouble understanding, I could help you.”
“How about everything? From where I’m standing, that sounds like a good place to start.”
“Right, of course. If you’ll take your seat, I’d be thrilled to go into more details. For example, I can make sure your life savings, which you already spent on a coffee shop that’s not happening, won’t go to waste.” I was guessing she could see from my expression that I wasn’t thrilled about any part of our conversation.
“How do you know that was my life s—”
“Like I said before, I do my—”
“Due diligence, right. I heard you the first time.” She looked out, her eyes scanning the busy hallway outside my office. It took her a few seconds to make a choice between walking out and staying. Then, reluctantly, she moved back toward my desk and me, and equally as reluctantly sat down on the edge of the seat again. Her untrusting eyes had all my attention.
“Good.” When I was sure she wasn’t going to jump up and run away, I took my seat as well. “Now that you’re staying, I’d like you to consider my offer.”
Briefly closing her eyes, she took a deep breath and let it all out. “See, that’s not really explaining anything to me. You keep asking the same thing, and I keep experiencing the same urge to get up and leave.”
“I’d like us to get married for a number of reasons, but the one that would interest you most is the fact that you’d get to open your coffee shop on Madison Avenue.”
When she didn’t make any comments, we remained silent.
“Is that it?” she finally asked, her tone impatient. “You want to marry me—sorry, make a business deal with me by marrying me so I can open my coffee shop?”
“Sounds like you understood me well enough.”
After another baffled look, she leaned back in her seat then got up, dumped her handbag on the chair, and walked over to the floor-to-ceiling windows to gaze at the skyline. A whole minute passed in silence, and my patience started to wear thin.
“You’re insane then,” she said. “Are you insane, Mr. Hawthorne?”
“I’m not going to answer that question,” I replied tersely.
“That’s nothing new. You’re not answering my questions, you’re not explaining things.”
“I want to help you. It’s that simple.”
She glanced at me with her big brown eyes, staring as if I had lost my mind, and when I didn’t go on, she raised her arms and dropped them. “That simple? Could you be helpful right now and explain further, please? You want to help me, for some insane reason—me, someone who incidentally doesn’t even know your first name.”
“My first name is Jack.”
She studied me for a long moment, our gazes holding.
“You’re serious, aren’t you? Is this a service you offer to all your clients, Jack Hawthorne? Offering to help them by marrying them?”
“You’re the first, Miss Coleson.”
“So, I’m the special snowflake.”
“In a way, yes.”
Turning back to the view, she dropped her head and rubbed her temples. “Why?”
“Are you asking me why you’re a special snowflake?”
Snorting, she glanced at me over her shoulder. “No, I’m not asking you… Can you give me more information, please? Like actual sentences that explain things and actually makes sense? I’m pretty sure you’re not asking me to marry you just to help me out. What’s in it for you? What are all those reasons you mentioned?” She looked around my office, taking everything in, me included—all the expensive furniture, my clothes, the view, the clients and lawyers walking by. “I’m gonna go out on a limb and say it isn’t about money, because I don’t think I have anything to offer you on that front.”
“You’re right, I don’t need money. Like I said before, this is strictly a business deal. It means nothing else to me. When we go ahead with the marriage—”
“You’re awfully sure of yourself while I’m still trying to figure out if you’re the one who is mocking me.”
I ignored her assessment and continued. “It’ll be nothing more than a business transaction between two people.” I got up and walked toward her. “I made partner this year, Miss Coleson. I’m thirty-one years old, the youngest partner in the firm, and to properly deal with some of my current and future clients, I need to make a good impression. There are formal and informal dinners, events I need to attend. Although it’s not a requirement to be in a serious relationship or to be a ‘family man’, as they put it, I believe I can use the illusion a marriage will provide to my advantage. I don’t want to lose any of my clients or any potential clients to other partners.”
Crossing her arms against her chest, she faced me, and we looked at each other. I couldn’t even begin to guess what was going through her mind. My own damn mind, however, was at war with my conscience.