“She does,” I state calmly. “Miss Shaw does take me to be her husband.”
Peggy sighs heavily. “Perhaps we should take a moment to discuss this. I’m wondering if Trina is invested in this as deeply as you are, Graham.”
“I do,” Miss Shaw says. “I’ll do it. Yes. I’ll marry him.”
That’s one hurdle behind me.
I roll my hand in the air. “Get to my part.”
Peggy slides her glasses back up the bridge of her nose and drops her gaze to the paper in her hand. “Graham Locke, do you take this woman to be your lawfully wedded wife? Do you promise to love and honor her, and…”
“I do,” I shout. “I’ll do it all.”
That lures a smile from Peggy. “I love seeing that kind of exuberance from a groom. I suppose you’re in a hurry to get this over with so you can start on the wedding night festivities.”
“Sure,” I say just as Miss Shaw drops a muted, “no way” from her lips.
I yank the ring box I tried to give my almost wife earlier out of my jacket pocket. I pop open the lid. “Let’s get to the rings.”
Peggy bends down to look at the stunning five-carat diamond ring I bought a few hours ago. “Oh, my word, that is a ring.”
It was the store clerk’s choice. She went on about how any woman would be forever grateful to wear this ring. I rushed her along by waving my credit card in her face after telling her to pick a wedding band for me. Once we found one that fit, I paid and took off with both rings.
I dive my hand back into my pocket to retrieve the plain silver band that will adorn my ring finger for the next ninety days.
We go through the task of sliding rings on each other’s fingers before we turn to face Peggy one last time.
“By the power vested in me by the State of New York, I now pronounce you husband and wife,” she pauses. “You may now kiss your bride, Graham.”
I turn to Miss Shaw.
Wanting to avoid any further questions from Peggy, I intend to close out this show with a memorable kiss.
My wife has other plans.
She plants a hand on my shoulder, leans closer, and touches her lips to my cheek.
The first thing I noticed about Miss Shaw when I met her was how unbelievably beautiful she is.
She’s tall. I’m six feet, and when she’s in heels, as she is now, we’re nose to nose.
Her blue eyes are strikingly vibrant. They are mesmerizing to the point that it’s distracting. Her hair is golden blonde, and when she doesn’t pin it up, it cascades around her shoulders.
When Lloyd announced that she was my new assistant, I panicked briefly. If I had bumped into her in the lobby that day instead of him, I would have asked her out and likely pursued her until I had her in bed.
Since I’ve gotten to know her, I’ve realized that we’re far too different to connect on any level other than one that aligns us as allies in the office.
Yet, here we are.
Married temporarily, and it’s all because of my reckless pursuit to please a man who gave me a chance when no one else would.
I owe Lloyd Abdon far more than I can ever repay him for.
I only hope what I did today will give him some sense of joy.
“Can I go home now?” Miss Shaw asks as we exit the courthouse.
I didn’t think this plan through to the point of living arrangements, but since Lloyd isn’t set to step on a plane bound for New York for a few more hours, I nod. “Of course.”
Her gaze drops to the diamond ring on her finger. “You went all out on this. I’ll take good care of it until we’re divorced.”
“It’s yours to keep, Miss Shaw.”
Her eyes meet mine. “I don’t want to keep it.”
“You will,” I say simply. “I have a prior engagement, so I’ll call a car to see you home safely.”
“A prior engagement?” Her tone suggests the question dives deeper than surface level.
I’m not going to discuss my romantic past with my wife. There was no prior engagement or anything serious at all.
There was work and a few short-term relationships to fill my time until I found more work to do.
I’m twenty-nine. Marriage wasn’t something I even vaguely considered before this morning.
“Yes,” I answer.
She doesn’t press for more, and I don’t offer anything beyond that one word reply. There’s no need to tell her that I’m meeting my three closest friends for dinner.
I tug my phone from the inner pocket of my jacket with the intention of calling one of our company drivers to pick up Miss Shaw.
Her hand moves to my forearm. “I can get home on my own, sir.”
I glance at her. “Graham. Please try and call me Graham when we’re in the presence of Mr. Abdon.”