It was a look I’d seen my mother do throughout my life. It was her I’m-a-bitch-and-pretending-to-play-nice face. As the silence grew, it seemed appropriate. From my peripheral vision, I watched Stewart slowly stand. Parker Craven was a tall, handsome man, with dark hair and olive-colored skin. However, Stewart’s stance, in some unspoken show of alpha-male superiority, dwarfed Parker’s presence. Finally, Parker turned to Stewart, and exclaimed, “Holy hell, are you shitting me?”
Stewart unbuttoned his jacket and retook his seat. With his arm casually around the back of my chair he said, “Parker, this is Victoria Conway, whom I’ve mentioned.”
Parker extended his hand in my direction. “Victoria, my pleasure.”
When his clammy touch enveloped my hand, I immediately regretted not offering a nod instead of contact. As quickly as possible, I retrieved my hand and repressed the desire to wipe it on my jeans. I couldn’t believe I needed to sit with this man and discuss the contents of the contract. No longer did I wonder about the attorney who had the fortitude to compose such a ludicrous agreement. I knew in the pit of my stomach that he was as slimy as some of the clauses.
“I’m not sure how Stewart convinced you to get this far,” Parker began, with a licentious grin, “but I must say, I’m glad that he did.”
Clearing his throat, Stewart brought everyone’s attention to him. “Park, today is about the contract. To avoid the obvious repercussions to Victoria’s stepfather, we need to finalize this sooner, rather than later.”
“Yes, yes of course.” He opened the folder before him. “By that statement, I’m looking for confirmation that the two of you are willing to endeavor upon the marriage contract?” He looked from one of us to the other. “I need verbal confirmation from both of you.”
“Yes, that is correct,” Stewart replied.
Both sets of eyes turned toward me. Fuck! It was truly the precipice of my life. On one side I had life as I’d known it, except without my stepfather and with the aftermath of his untimely death, while on the other hand I had…
A promise?
A contract?
A life sentence?
“Victoria?” Stewart asked, bringing me back to the table of decision.
I squared my shoulders and fought the trembling. “Yes, Mr. Craven, that is correct.” With that, I signed my life away.
MY HEAD ACHED as we stood to leave Parker’s office. The contract discussions hadn’t eased the uncomfortable feeling I got from Stewart’s attorney. When we stood to leave, Stewart shook his hand, but remembering the clamminess of his contact, I only nodded. “Goodbye, Mr. Craven.”
“Miss Conway, I look forward to getting to know you better.”
I used my play-nice-bitch-face; honestly, I’d been getting a lot of use out of it since we entered Parker’s office. Ignoring the rest of the conversation, my thoughts went to my phone. As Stewart once again placed his hand in the small of my back and spoke with Parker, my purse vibrated again. It had been happening periodically throughout our meeting as we dissected and discussed clauses and addendums. Willingly, I allowed Stewart to lead me out to the car. When we neared, I saw Travis opening the door and giving me a feeling similar to Parker.
Once the door was closed, Stewart squeezed my hand. “Are any of those messages from Randall?”
“I-I haven’t checked,” I trepidatiously replied. Pulling my phone from my purse, I scrolled the text messages, all nine of them. I had six from Valerie. I hadn’t spoken to her since last night, and I’d missed my last advanced biology study session. Surely, she was concerned. My last, final examination was tomorrow, and it wasn’t like me to blow off obligations. I had two text messages from friends in my advanced biology class, probably also concerned with my uncharacteristic absence, and one text from my mother. “No, but I do have one from my mother.”
I accessed the message:
“VICTORIA, AS YOU CAN IMAGINE WE ARE ANXIOUSLY AWAITING A MESSAGE FROM YOU. THIS IS YOUR CHANCE TO REPAY ALL OF RANDALL’S GOODWILL. I CERTAINLY HOPE YOU DON’T PLAN ON DISAPPOINTING US.”
I bristled in my seat as the magnitude of my decision weighed heavily on my chest.
“Do you care to share?” Stewart asked.
I couldn’t look his direction. Everything had me on edge. I wasn’t one to cry, yet with my eyes stinging from the impending tears, I handed him my phone. There was no need to pretend I had a great family. In three days, Stewart would be my husband. That wouldn’t even be possible if it weren’t for Randall. Stewart was obviously aware of how totally fucked-up Randall and Marilyn Sound were.
His body tensed next to mine as he read. Finally, he handed me back my phone with a simple observation. “She’s really a bitch.”
I couldn’t help but laugh. It was better than crying. “I know we signed the contract, but do you really want to be part of this messed-up family?”
He reached for my thigh and gave it a reassuring pat. “No, I have no desire to be part of Dr. and Mrs. Sound’s fucked-up family.”
My eyes opened wide. What the hell?
Stewart continued, “But I believe you feel the same… am I right?”
I nodded.
“Three days, my dear. In three days you’ll be Mrs. Stewart Harrington. You can tell them to never contact you again.” He leaned closer, and kissed my cheek. “In all actuality, you can tell them that now. We may not be legally wed, but the ink on the contract is dry. There’s no backing out now.”