Insta-Ever After: A Flirt Club Novella Collection Page 17

  Stacy: So, how did it go?

  Me: I'm not sure I want to tell you.

  I know I shouldn't be it afraid to talk with her about this quick marriage arrangement, but I honestly don't want anyone to talk me out of promising myself to Ben. A new message from her pops up almost instantly.

  Stacy: What happened? Did he catfish you?

  Me: No, nothing like that. He's amazing. But things are moving quicker than I planned.

  Stacy: OMG, are you with him now?

  Me: Technically, no.

  It's not a lie. Ben isn't here. Technically, I am not with him.

  Stacy: You little…

  I giggle. I don't know why I'm hiding this from her, she's not going to judge me. Stacy is the least judgmental person I've ever known.

  Me: He went out to talk with his lawyer.

  Stacy: Excuse me? Did I miss something? Why does he need a lawyer?

  Me: Because he's getting us a marriage license.

  I cringe as I write the words. It still feels surreal. Not wrong, but fast. The little bubbles on my screen indicate Stacy is writing a message. I bite my lip and wait for her response.

  Stacy: Do you have a dress?

  My heart lifts, excitement racing through me at my cousin's willingness to accept this.

  Me: Not yet, he wants to take me to get one. Then we're gonna go to City Hall and by the end of the night, I'll be Mrs. Ben Elliott.

  Stacy: Thank God you at least know his full name.

  Then she blows up my phone with a bunch of different emoji's ranging from a bride and groom, champagne, wedding cake, about a hundred hearts, and a few eggplants.

  Me: Okay, I'm sure he'll be back soon, and I promised him I'd be naked and waiting.

  Her only response is another five eggplants.

  Heart feeling lighter at Stacy's acceptance, I turn on some music and dance around the living room. I dance until my calves are sore, until my breath come in gasps. I don't stop until I end up in Ben's office where I find a sleek modern style that fits the entire apartment, with the exception of the manila folder sitting open on his desk. When I read the words, last will and testament, I can't help myself. But I wish more than anything that I had stopped reading. The words marriage contract, inheritance, clause, legal, forfeit, all stab me straight through the heart as I realize that what I have with Ben isn't a two way street. I may have fallen in love with him instantly, but he was using me. She is using me because the man needs a bride so he can inherit all his grandmother's money.

  There's a deep ache in my chest at this monumental betrayal, even though I shouldn't feel so attached after such a short time. It doesn't change the fact that I feel the combination of humiliation and hurt. My eyes fill with tears and I try to fight them back, not wanting to cry over a man I've known less than a full day. But that doesn't help. I blink and the tears roll down my cheeks.

  I hear the key in the door and my despair turns to panic. What am I going to say to him? How am I going to handle this? And what will my heart do if he lies to me again?

  I dart for the bedroom, scooping up my clothes as soon as I reach the doorway. By the time I hear his deep voice call out my name, I have locked myself in the bathroom.

  Dressing frantically, I try to pull myself together. This is stupid. This whole decision was stupid. I shouldn't be crying over a man who was using me.

  The door rattles as he knocks. "Rosie?"

  I clear my throat and force out a weak, "Just a minute."

  "Is everything okay? You sound strange."

  God, I just want him to go away. "Yeah, I'm fine. Just getting dressed."

  A low chuckle fills my ears even through the door, and I wish so much that he was the man I thought he was. "What happened to being naked and waiting for me?"

  A wash of sickness hits me. How far will this man go to get what he wants? "I… I got a phone call." I'm such a terrible liar, there's no way he's going to believe me. "There's something I have to take care of. I'm sorry I need to go."

  I open the door and find him standing waiting for me. His gaze roams my body but lands on my face, and it's then I know I've been caught in my lie. "You've been crying. What's wrong?" He steps towards me and attempts to hold me by the shoulders, but I jerk away. "Rosie?"

  "Don't touch me." I back away, unable to meet his gaze. I don't want to believe this was all a lie.

  "Are you… Are you having second thoughts?" There's a break in his voice, a hitch so filled with emotion I almost cave.

  "Look, I saw the papers. I saw the will, the note from your lawyer, the deal. If you needed a wife just to get an inheritance, why bother pretending? Why not just tell me? Or better yet, find some gold digger and get her marry you."

  His handsome face blanches and I know he realizes he's been caught. He opens his mouth then closes it again and I turn on my heels and leave, not looking back over my shoulder as the door slams behind me.

  38

  Ben

  * * *

  The sound of the door slamming jerks me back to the reality of my situation. Rosie is running from me. I don't know how she found out, but the weight of the engagement ring in my pocket makes me desperate to find her and proved her this wasn't all just for money. It may have started out that way, but from the moment I saw her, I knew.

  I run for the door pulling it open and dashing into the hallway, but she's nowhere to be found. Did she take the elevator? If she did, I might be able to beat her to the lobby by taking the stairs. With a sense of utter panic, I run for the stairs. I take them two at a time, my heart racing, skin prickling with apprehension. I don't know where she lives; I don't know her phone number. If she wants to, she can completely escape me and the only one who will be able to tell me where to find her is Grace, the matchmaker. But from everything I've learned in my dealings with Grace, she will not tell me if Rosie doesn't want to be found.

  By the time I reach the bottom of the staircase I'm breathing heavily, a sheen of sweat covers my forehead, and I feel ill. But not because of the chase, because I'm so close to losing her. I burst through the door and catch just the hint of her scent.

  "Rosie!" I scream. Everyone in the lobby stops with alarm on their faces. I glanced wildly around the space with my heart in my throat. I don't care what the rest of the people think of me, I just need her.

  "Mr. Elliott, can I help you with something?"

  I turn at the sound of my name, recognizing the man's voice. It's Jake, the doorman. He looks at me with a combination of pity and concern in his eyes, and the deep wrinkles around his eyes tighten, changing as his expression morphs to one solely of sympathy. "Have you seen her?" I ask, working hard to control myself.

  He nods, his jaw set. "I called her a car. She went to the ladies room to clean herself up. I don't know what happened between the two of you, but that woman looks shattered." He crosses his arms over his chest and frowns. "I know it's not my place, but whatever you did to her, you need to fix it."

  I almost get angry with him for calling me on hurting her, but then I realize he's exactly right. This is my fault. I should've been honest from the get-go. Instead, I got caught up with the possibility of something real. Placing a hand on his shoulder, I look him straight in the eyes. Then I nod and say, "I know."

  The bathroom door opens, and she walks out, looking for all the world the beautiful tragic princess. My heart lurches. I cannot lose her forever. "Rosie, please."

  She stops in her tracks and her lips part. Then, looks away. "You promised you'd never lie, but you were doing it the whole time."

  "Please, just hear me out." I swear to God, I'll do anything if it means I can get her to give me another chance.

  "Hear you out? I don't know how you could further explain this. You lied. You made this seem like something it's not. You took advantage. But what I don't understand is why you'd pick me."

  "No, you don't... it's more complicated."

  She places her hand on her hip and stares me down. "It's pretty simple to
me. Do you have to get married by February fourteenth in order to inherit your grandmother's fortune?"

  I sigh and let my head hang me down in shame. "I do but — "

  She sucks in a sharp breath then holds up a hand to stop me. "Enough said. That's it. I knew this was too good to be true."

  I reach for her, but she jerks away. "You made a fool of me, Ben Elliott. I wanted so badly for this to be real. Just let me go."

  The doorman puts himself between us, his steely expression telling me that if I push, he'll push back. "I think it's best if you let the lady go, Mr. Elliott. Her car is here."

  Without a glance back she leaves me, her delicious scent, dark hair, and the sway of her curves as she walks away something that will be burned in my memory for the rest of my days.

  39

  Rosie

  * * *

  It's been two days since I left Ben, and the hurt has not eased. I've been holed up in my apartment, trying to figure out my next move. Unfortunately, my thoughts are plagued with memories of my short time with Ben, regret for the way things ended, and hurt...so much hurt. My phone rings from its place on the kitchen counter. My stupid heart lurches at the thought that it might be Ben calling through the messenger service. I want it to be him with some possible way of redeeming this whole situation. Getting to my feet, I walk to the kitchen and take my phone off the charger.

  "Hello?" I kick myself for not looking at the caller ID. I was too caught up in my emotions.

  "What is going on with you?" Stacy's voice sends a rock to the pit of my stomach. I love her, I really do, but she is so not the voice I wanted to hear on the other end.

  "Hey, Stace."

  "Tell me you have at least taken a shower." Stacy's words are soft, and there is a definite note of concern.

  "Do you want me to lie to you?" I glance down at my sweatpants and old college T-shirt, and I don't even want to take a look at the mirror and see what I know I will find. Greasy hair, an unwashed face, puffy from crying, and dark circles under my eyes from lack of sleep. Every time I close my eyes dreams of Ben assault me.

  She sighs over the line, and then takes a long breath. "Get in the shower. I'll be there in twenty minutes.

  "But —"

  Her voice breaks through my protest. "Stop it. You need to get out of your own head. I know this guy got under your skin, but you can't let him ruin the rest of your life."

  Is that what I'm doing? I'm letting Ben and the fantasy of what I wanted us to be ruin my entire life? I take a long breath, let it out, and put my shoulders back as I stand up straight. "You're right. He doesn't get to say whether I'm happy or not. That's my choice." I walk into the bathroom and stare myself in the mirror. This was just a blip on my way to living my best life. I'm just sad that it won't be something I get to do with the man I thought was going to be my adventure. "Okay, I'll see you in twenty minutes."

  I hang up the phone, turn on some music, and strip out of the clothes I've been wearing for the last few days. The water is hot and feels good on my skin, and I take a little extra time shampooing and conditioning my hair before shaving my legs and under my arms. I don't need to look good for anyone but myself. But it does feel nice to be smooth all over, and to really take the time for some self-care. By the time I step out of the shower, I've only got a few minutes before Stacy's going to get here. I dress quickly in a pair of fitted jeans and the deep red sweater with and off the shoulder V-neck. My hair is wet, and I know I won't have time to dry it, so I make short work of braiding it to the side and tie it with a red bow that matches my sweater.

  A soft knock catches my attention and I walk to the doorway, ready to let Stacy inside. I open the door and find her standing with an envelope in her hand and a quizzical expression on her face.

  "This was...taped to your door." She hands me the envelope.

  "That's weird, why wouldn't they just put it through the mail slot?"

  I take the envelope from her and run my fingers over the thick paper. There's no address, no sender, but there is one word written across the front, and that word makes tears spring to my eyes. "Petal," I whisper.

  "What?"

  "It's… It was my nickname, for the matchmaking."

  "Why would Grace leave something taped to your door? She would just mail it."

  "I don't think it's from Grace."

  "Oh," she whispers.

  My hands shake as I hold the letter that Ben manage to get to me. "How did he find me?"

  "Maybe Grace gave him your address?" She asks it like a question, because I think she is as flabbergasted as I am.

  "I should read it."

  She nods and walks to the kitchen. "I'll open the wine."

  I stare down at the envelope and take it with me to my little kitchen table. Sitting down, I just look at the scrawl of his handwriting across the clean paper. Do I really want to know? Do I want to open my heart up to being broken again? The thought of not giving this a chance makes me feel sick.

  Stacy joins me at the table and slides a glass of wine across the table top to me. "Okay, go on."

  Fingers trembling, I tear open the envelope and pull out a letter dated February fourteenth – today.

  Dear Rosie,

  I've written this letter at least ten times since you left. You were right to leave me when you did. I broke your trust and there's nothing I can do about that right now without coming up with some lame excuse. All I can do is say what's in my heart. The only thing in my heart is you. I didn't plan on falling for you, falling in love with you. The truth is, I contacted Grace because my lawyer told me to. He told me I needed a wife. It needed to be legal and that Grace would find me someone. In fact, when I set up our meeting, I planned to tell you everything. I planned to explain my situation to make a deal with you. We would have a marriage of convenience. It was supposed to be cut and dry, easy and companionable. My plan with the matchmaker was to find a woman who would at least get along with me, and could be friends with me. I'm not the kind of man who could marry someone I don't like. My parents always said to marry your best friend, but I never expected that I would fall immediately in love.

  When I met you, like I said, I had every intention of telling you exactly what I needed and why. But I was struck by you, by your beauty, by your openness and your honesty, and by your genuine excitement. I've never been one to believe in love at first sight, until I met you. I knew from the moment our gazes locked that I was going to fall hard. So, I moved forward with my plan, minus one very important detail. I wanted to marry you because I was falling in love with you and because you were falling in love with me, not because I stood to inherit so much money.

  But lying to you, and trying to take advantage of our situation to make sure I got my inheritance was wrong. I just needed you to know that my intentions changed drastically after we met. And one day, I hope I can find you again, and the two of us have a fresh start. Because you are it for me. I'm not getting married. I'm going to let my inheritance go and I will wait for you.

  Yours always,

  Ben (a.k.a. Mr. Whenever You're Ready)

  My tears splash onto the paper causing the ink to distort where the drops hit. I can feel Stacy's eyes watching me but I don't want to speak yet. I'm still taking it all in.

  "Okay, what did the asshole say?"

  I look up and stare at her without any words that can describe the tempest in my heart.

  She snatches the letter from my hand and I don't stop her. There is nothing in there that I wouldn't want her to see. I just watch her as she reads and wonder what she's thinking. Her eyes widen, then her brow furrows, and she gasps and puts her fingers to her chest. When she's done, those wide eyes land on me, and the woman smiles. She looks me up and down and says, "Well, at least you're dressed for the holiday."

  I frown and look down at my red sweater and dark jeans. "What do you mean?"

  "It's Valentine's Day." Then she stands and grabs her purse. "I'm assuming you know how to get his apartment?"
>
  I grin, so glad she's mirroring the same feelings I have. "I've got a better idea."

  "Then what are you waiting for? Go get him."

  40

  Ben

  * * *

  I stare at my phone, willing it to ring. When I'd approached Grace about getting in contact with Rosie, the matchmaker had been less than willing. She made it very clear that if after the first meeting, phone numbers weren't exchanged, she wouldn't provide any other means of contact. So, I was persistent. It took two days of returning to Grace's doorstep and waiting until she'd see me before the woman agreed to reach out to Rosie for me. There was one catch, I wasn't allowed to ask her Rosie to come back or give her my contact information, because according to Grace once Rosie reads my letter, if she wants me, she will have to make the first move. Rosie knows where I am, she knows more about me than I do about her. I hate that I'm dependent on Grace. The gate keeper.

  Sighing, I stand in my living room. My chest is tight and aching with the knowledge of the hurt I caused Rosie. I'd told her I wouldn't lie to her, but a lie of omission is just as bad as a boldfaced lie.

  I drag my hands through my hair and let out a stream of curses, frustrated with myself. My phone rings, making you nearly jump out of my skin. I answer before the first ring is even over, breathlessly saying, "Rosie?"

  The sound of a throat clearing tells me immediately it's not her. "Mr. Elliott, it's Franklin Washburn, your grandmother's estate lawyer."

  My heart sinks. This is the last thing I want. Not because he's going to tell me that I'm about to lose my grandmother's inheritance, but because he is a reminder of the reason I lost Rosie. "What do you want? I'm not getting married, do I really need to do something else in order to lose this inheritance?"