On The Dotted Line Read online

  “Starting the second after you sign the marriage license you will never have to worry again about any of your so-called material things again. You will be set for life.” Randolph’s words vibrated through her. “So will your Nan.”

  At the mention of her only family, she opened her eyes. A life where Nan could relax, do her work, teach her and never have to scrimp for the little she needed. An opportunity to give back a small bit what Nan gave to her. Their future would be assured, and they could buy a house, a real house. “I’m not sleeping with you.” What was she saying?

  He cleared his throat. “You must sleep with me, but you don’t have to sleep with me. I will have you know there will be a fidelity clause in the contract.”

  She decided not to mention there was no need for such a thing. Her life was a fidelity clause.

  “If you agree, I will draw up your official contract on the plane. We will spend the night in Las Vegas and tomorrow you will need to move.” He returned the paper back to the secret pocket in his jacket.

  “Nan needs to come with me.” Was she saying yes? Her heart stopped, skidded to a halt. “She gets full use of the kitchen.”

  He narrowed his eyes and stared off as if thinking.

  “Nan comes or you are out your business, your trust fund and your sleeping only partner.” Though she knew she should walk away and forget this whole deal, she stood her ground, unsure if she wanted the deal or only wanted to win. Randolph the third brought out Willow the terrible.

  “You’re a tough negotiator.” He put his hand out for a shake. “If Miss Nan moves in and creates havoc in Chef’s kitchen, do we leave now to get married?”

  She stared at his offering, a large hand with long fingers and perfectly manicured nails. Karma and prayer wouldn’t provide for her or Nan, they were days away from not being able to afford food. They needed a miracle, and as Nan would say, sometimes miracles happened in the most unexpected places. One year for the rest of her life.

  She glanced up at the stars, took a breath and put her hand in his.

  Chapter Two

  “I added the Nanette Rivera conditions to the contract, do you have the papers?” Randolph held his hand to Peter Ward, his personal assistant.

  Out of the corner of her eye she watched the men while she continued to crochet the squares for her latest quilt, thankful she always kept something in her bag to work on.

  “Take it down a notch, Randy.” Peter leaned over and pulled the pages off the printer.

  Yes, a printer in the limousine. For some reason, out of everything that small detail caught her attention. Of course, in the last two hours she had been whisked away to a charter airport in the valley and flown to Las Vegas in a private plane that was more like an airborne decadent living room, but the printer stood out. Her world seemed off center and strange.

  “This looks all in order.” Randolph swiped the sheets away from him. “Get your notary book out.”

  “Did you forget the word please?” Peter reached into his briefcase, pulling out a book, a stamp pad and a few other accessories setting them up on the desk with the printer…in the limousine.

  Other than watching the ostentatious display of lights of the most over-the-top city in the world, the most entertaining part of this journey had to be the banter between the two men. Randolph may be the boss, but Peter threw his attitude right back to him.

  “Please.” Randolph pulled a pen out of his suit jacket pocket, signed and slid the papers across to her. “Here you are future Mrs. Van Ayers.”

  She set her crochet down and put her palm over the document. “This is very formal.” Something about putting what should be a sacred agreement between two hearts all in writing seemed against the natural order of things.

  “A well written contract is formal and a necessity.” He held the pen out to her. “Documents and signatures are what make the world go around, and they are usually considered sacred. Let’s get this initialed and signed. It’s after ten already, we have to get the license and get married in less than two hours.”

  “I should read this.” Not that she ever read any other contract. Her heart didn’t as much pound as it fired off in rapid succession. She lifted the paper and squinted trying to make out the tiny print.

  “It’s everything we already reviewed.” He shoved the pen in her hand.

  Not liking his attitude, and needing to take a few cleansing breaths before moving forward, she put the document down. “I get sick when I read and drive.”

  “You are knitting and driving.”

  “Crochet. I am crocheting and driving.” She resumed her craft.

  He strummed his fingers on the desk. “Willow, all you need to do is sign.”

  “Dolph, calm it down.” Peter shook his head.

  “What? She has all year to read the paper.” Once more he held the pen out to her. “For the rest of the year she only has to do three things. Sign the contract, sign the marriage license and say ‘I do.’“

  For the last two hours she had been tossed around with Randolph, allowing him to take control, but she wouldn’t be talked about like she wasn’t here. “Randolph, I am not sure how you spoke to the woman who cancelled on you today, but I am quite sure your condescending tone may be part of her leaving you right before the altar.” She sat back, sinking into the leather seat.

  “For your information, I added more to the monthly allowance, in fact much more than I was offering the first woman. Call it a short notice bonus.” Though his tone was restrained, she picked up on his negative vibes.

  “I will sign the paper when I feel it is the right time. You just said signatures were sacred.” She crossed her arms and decided to forgo any comment about the other woman. What he did and whom he wanted to marry before wasn’t her concern. Their arrangement was business, nothing more.

  The limo turned, jostling them as they made their way into a driveway.

  “We’re finally here.” Peter tossed his items back into his bag. “Willow can read it in the office and get all her signing done at once.”

  Randolph glanced down at his watch. “We are cutting this close, we have no time for formal document reading, but I suppose I must compromise.”

  The limo stopped and without waiting for the chauffeur or Peter or Randolph, she opened the door and exited.

  “Willow!” Randolph scrambled out of the vehicle after her. “Where are you going?”

  She stopped short and he collided with her.

  Before she fell, he wrapped his arm around her waist and righted them both. “I can’t have you hurting yourself.” He kept hold of her.

  She pushed him back. “At least not until the year is up.”

  “Willow, we are just on a time constraint.” His tone sounded as if he were talking to a child.

  “I didn’t cause it.” She walked toward the building.

  “We could have sped things up in the alley.” He rushed ahead and opened the door for her.

  “Maybe you shouldn’t make such proposals in an alley.” She walked inside.

  Peter came over and guided her into an elevator.

  Randolph slipped in with them. “What? Are you upset because I didn’t propose properly?”

  “Seriously.” She snapped.

  “Here, let me remedy the situation.” In the middle of the elevator he got down on one knee.

  She tightened her jaw refusing to be part of this mockery of something most people took as more significant than an ATM transaction.

  He pressed his hands together as if he were praying. “I am begging you with my mind, body and soul to be my bride, will you marry me?”

  The elevator doors opened. Several people waiting to get on clapped.

  “We get out here,” Peter mumbled.

  “I think I preferred you in the alley.” She stepped around him and headed straight ahead causing their audience to part for her arrival.

  Unwilling to be guided anywhere or to be told what to do one more time, she stomped over to the l
ine indicating marriage licenses, surprised at the many people already ahead of her. She took in the couples. Some brides were already in their wedding dresses, others in jeans and a t-shirt. One duo definitely needed to make a stop at the maternity ward after their ceremony. She was quite sure none were there for her reason.

  “Peter, I don’t want to wait in line.” Randolph joined her and handed Peter a wad of what appeared to be one hundred dollar bills. “Willow, please take this very fast moment for some light reading material.” He handed her the contract.

  She took the document, crumpling it in her hands as she watched Peter quite literally pay their way to the front of the line. The waste made her turn away. She only hoped a few of these people needed the money and would put it to good use.

  The man literally had no respect for anyone but himself and his needs. What she really wanted was to tear the contract up, throw the pieces in Mr. Van Ayers the Third’s face and hitch a ride back to Hollywood. She took a breath and read the pages, pressing her hand to her chest at the sum he put in her monthly allowance. Most people she knew didn’t make that much in a year, maybe two, or three. “Randolph.”

  “Is anything incorrect?” He put his hand on the small of her back and leaned in, the scent of his cologne swirled around her, decadence and expense mixed with something earthy. Maybe something grounded him.

  “This is too high.” She pointed to the figure.

  “No, it’s exactly right.” He flicked the page. “I added some for Nan as well.”

  She stopped and studied him. Nan? In the middle of their whirlwind he added some for Nan? The earthy part of his cologne definitely took over.

  “She will need things I’m sure.” He furrowed his brow.

  “I can’t sign this.” She handed the contract back to him.

  “Randolph!” Peter called to them from one of the clerk’s stations. “We’re ready.”

  Instead of waiting for his answer, she joined Peter. He already had his notary seal and book out ready to go.

  “I was told you need a marriage license?” The woman behind the counter smiled at her.

  “Yes.” She returned the gesture.

  “You need to sign the contract.” Randolph leaned over.

  “I’m not signing that.” She gave the lady her identification and filled out her portion of the form, including adding her signature. “It’s too much.”

  “You’ll sign the license, but not the contract that protects you?” Randolph completed his section as well. “I will determine what is too much.”

  “Here you go. Everything is in order.” The woman handed them the papers and winked at her. “I included a list of chapels. One is right around the corner. Get him now while he wants to give you too much. It won’t last.”

  “Willow.” Peter motioned her over to a clear spot on the long counter. “This will be fast.”

  She joined Peter. “I’m not signing the contract.”

  Randolph came over, took her shoulders and turned her. “Willow, I have the money and I want you to have it. I am asking you to sign it now. Yes, I’m in a rush, and yes we could do it after the fact, but I want you to sign before we get married. That’s the right thing to do. I will not reduce the amount. “ He slapped the papers on the counter and whipped out his pen. “Right here on the dotted line.”

  He remembered Nan.

  She swiped the pen away and without reading anything, but noting the line was indeed dotted, she signed the contract and the notary book. Her utter disregard for something someone held sacred chilled her body.

  Peter quickly took her thumbprint and shuffled everything away.

  Randolph wiped the ink off her thumb as they left. “Also, let me tell you never to show your winning hand in any business deal. If someone pays you too much never say a word and collect your winnings.”

  At his words, her throat constricted, but she managed to get the next statement out anyway. “What if someone pays you too much on purpose?”

  “Everyone has their own motivation Willow, remember that.” He held the door of the elevator for her.

  Yes, everyone had their own motivation, and somehow she let him outsmart her on day one. She needed to keep her eyes open for the rest of the year.

  * * * *

  “Would you like to pick the package?” In an attempt not to be a lunatic, Randolph held out the brochure from the small chapel around the corner from the courthouse.

  Decorated with copious amounts of draped white silk, plastic flowers and fake doves, their location perfectly fit his image of what a quickie wedding chapel in Vegas should look like.

  Willow shook her head. “I’m good with the ‘I do’ special.”

  Without lifting his wrist he glanced at his watch. Thirty minutes.

  Time didn’t matter in her world, but in his universe, no matter how he wanted to change it or fight it, time was everything. Payments, interest, literally every deal he ever made narrowed down to seconds.

  “Let’s just do this, I’m exhausted.” She sighed.

  The woman behind the counter watched them, her jaw jutted out and she narrowed her eyes, taking them in.

  They should have entered breathless, not from arguing, but rushing because they couldn’t wait to be together.

  “I know we have a half hour, but may I have three minutes to collect myself?” Willow asked the question to the woman not him.

  “You can take ten.” The woman patted her hand. “We have a bride’s dressing room. It’s nice and private.” With a glare in his direction, she guided Willow away.

  He held his hand up. Willow could have all the time in the world in thirty minutes.

  Peter hit his shoulder. “She signed the contract, she signed the license, we made it here and by 11:59 you will have a wife. You need to chill.”

  “She knows the importance of this.” He squeezed the bridge of his nose.

  “It’s not her fault you decided to prove a point and wait until the last day.”

  “Don’t judge me. You knew what you signed up for when you came asking me for a job.” He wouldn’t call Peter a friend as much as he would call him a confidante in almost everything. Almost.

  “You offered it.” Peter stared him right in the eye.

  At least the two of them tolerated each other. He could make a single-spaced list pages long of assistants who didn’t work out for him. Another man of privilege, but without the contacts or the drive, Peter understood him. Their mothers worked for some of the same charities and their demons played nicely in the same sandbox together. “That I did, and I don’t regret it for a second.”

  Peter gave him a slight nod and that was all they needed to move on.

  “Can you get something simple, not embarrassing for her, but maybe smack of something other than what this is?” He took a breath and picked up the brochure. “Let me talk to her for a second.”

  “You have two seconds.” Peter plucked the brochure away.

  The moment the lady returned, he walked to the back without asking permission and found his bride-to-be sitting on a crushed red velvet bench. He sat next to her. “I promise that once this is over the accommodations will be five-star.” The operative word being getting the ceremony over, every minute seemed to inch by when he wanted to sprint.

  “What was she like?” She stared into the mirror across from them.

  He studied her refection, noticing her absolutely perfect and petite features. When silent, she was the personification of sweet and serene. “What?”

  “The woman you originally lined up for the job.” She crossed her leg, the slit in her skirt now showing off a bit of skin.

  For the first time tonight he paused before answering, taking time to consider his words. “No one really. Someone I knew for a while.”

  “You never fell in love?”

  For the woman who didn’t speak for most of the flight here, when they needed to hurry the most he suddenly had a chatterbox and was at her mercy. Rather than fight, he answered. “
No. I tried, but no. Maybe I’ve been too fixated on the end so I never allowed it.” He shook his head wondering where those words came from and wrung his hands together.

  “Everything in this place is artificial.” She shook her head and stood. “I’ll be there in a minute.”

  Though he wanted to protest at her delay, drag her back in front of whatever official would perform the lightning ceremony, he bowed his head and slunk back out to the front.

  “I got everything taken care of.” Peter gave him a thumbs-up.

  “If we’re ready we can meet her in the chapel.” The woman plastered a plastic flower smile on her face.

  “Yes.” Not caring if he rushed her, he pointed forward.

  “You didn’t need to pay for another witness.” Peter elbowed him as they entered the chapel. “You got me.”

  They both stopped at the end of the aisle.

  “This is the Chapel ‘de Amour.” The woman wiped her hand around the small space chock full of a lot of…a lot, and all artificial.

  The theme from the front room carried on to the chapel, but in grander proportions with bright pinks and reds. Hearts and cupids ruled every available space.

  “You’ll never forget this. I made sure to order pictures.” Peter laughed.

  “Thank you, and until now I thought it would only live on in my nightmares.”

  The official entered from the back and motioned them forward.

  They joined him.

  “I’m Reverend Calloway.” The older man in a white robe gave them both a smile and lifted a paper. “Your associate indicated you wanted a basic ceremony.”

  “Fine.” He searched each entrance to the gilded wonderland waiting for his wayward Willow.

  “He also ordered the commemorative license holder, the champagne glasses and bottle of champagne.”

  “Where is she?” He looked at his watch and then Peter’s. “We have fifteen minutes.”

  “Anxious are we?” The minister chuckled. “Mimi is probably just giving her a little sparkle. They may be a bit.”

  They were nearing single digit minutes. His throat dried out, but he found the strength to inhale. Apparently these people didn’t understand the urgency. Even Peter raised his hand.