I know that she just said she wouldn’t have flown me out here for a joke, but if they flew me out here to have me get married to a complete stranger than it sure seems like a joke to me because holy shit. No.
No. No. No.
I can’t seem to stop laughing even though I’m trying. “You can’t be serious.”
The man beside the lawyer glares at me, and a thrill runs down my spine. Because he’s gorgeous. In a rugged way that pulls on my gut. The second I walked into the room I was aware of his presence. Viscerally aware.
Immediately I remembered the night before when I had thought about how Solomon wasn’t my type. Well this Mr. Burgess, he is exactly my type. Tall and broad and blond with blue eyes that pierce me from across the table. I swear I jumped when our hands touched, and every time I look at him, it’s clear that the suit that he’s wearing doesn’t hide the powerful physique he has. Obviously if you work on ranch you don’t need to keep your gym membership current.
I own a ranch. I guess I can cancel my gym membership now.
The thought sends a fresh burst of laughter from my mouth. Focus, Rachel. Not only do you own a ranch, but they want you to marry this devastatingly sexy man who is glaring daggers at you. I can’t exactly blame him. I probably shouldn’t have laughed; this seems pretty important to him. But come on, this is so absurd.
“You’re laughing about this?” he asks. “This is serious. People’s livelihoods are at stake here.”
I take a breath. “I’m sorry. I do understand that. You have to see it from my point of view, though. I walked into this room ten minutes ago to find out that a grandmother I’d never heard of died, and now I own a ranch. Oh! And I’m meant to marry you, a stranger.” I laugh loudly again at the absurdity of it all. Nobody else is laughing. They’re dead serious. So of course I add sarcastically, “Forgive me. What other small favors can I do for you before I fly home?”
Obviously he’s not a fan of sarcasm. His jaw tightens, and I try to ignore how that motion makes my gut tighten as well. “I understand that this is unexpected. But this is a business transaction. I promise. Just business. You’ve already said that you don’t care about the ranch. Think of this as nothing but a contract. You’ll get a monthly income while doing absolutely nothing. We just need your signature.” Then he snorts. “I don’t even care what you do with the rest of your life. Date whoever you want, live with whoever you want, as long as we’re legally married.”
Something about the way he’s speaking makes me hesitate. He’s pushing it really hard. This means more to him that he’s letting on. Probably he’s trying not to scare me, but it’s clear this is deeply personal to him. I’m not even sure how I know that, but I do.
I also can’t explain the twinge in my stomach when he says he doesn’t care who I date or what I do with my life. This man is a total stranger to me. Why should I have any reaction to what he says?
Even if he is the most attractive man I’ve ever seen in real life, I shouldn’t care what he thinks about me. I especially shouldn’t care about what he thinks of my dating life. Afterall, this is a man whose idea of romance is a business transaction.
The lawyer slides a folder across to me. “These are the current financials for the ranch, and the amount of money that you’ll receive every month as a stipend for your cooperation.”
I try not to snort. Cooperation, as if it’s something as simple as a handshake and not marriage. But I take the folder and skim the contents, including the offer and…holy shit.
It’s a healthy four figures. I’m too embarrassed to admit it, but that amount of money would change my life. I’ve been scraping by for so long, having that extra money materialize magically in my bank account every month is instantly appealing. I need to think about this. I’ve never been someone who’s motivated by money rather than ethics and happiness, and I chastise myself for being so easily manipulated by a few grand. Money isn’t reason enough to do something, is it?
But…it’s not just money. It’s people. Right?
“How many people live on the ranch?” I ask quietly.
Burgess’s face softens slightly. “Year-round? About fifty. In the tourist season our staff expands with temporary hires to between seventy-five and one-hundred.”
That is a lot of people. I know enough about business and local economies to know that Katie is right. If the government comes in and takes over, they would lose everything. I might get a bigger check, but I don’t know if I could live with the guilt that my selfishness destroyed that many lives.