“So, what’s this big project you said I’d be working on?” I’m more than a little curious about what I’m supposed to help Charles and Sterling with.
The wealth manager, Charles, who also happens to be Sterling’s uncle, flew in from London yesterday. And he has one expression on his features. Sheer panic. Sterling stretches and covers a yawn behind his hand.
“As you may be aware, Sterling Quinn is the heir to the Quinn fortune. His great-grandfather Duncan Quinn built a sizeable wealth over the course of his life.”
My gaze cuts to Sterling. Heir to a fortune?
Gulping down a huge breath, I try to compose myself. I only know Sterling as a huge manwhore, a sexy Brit, and a cocky lawyer who doesn’t believe in love.
“I had no idea,” I say, breathless.
Sterling winks at me. “Neither did I, until Sunday morning.”
“His great-grandfather recently passed away, and according to his will, everything is to be left to Sterling upon the completion of a few strict requirements. Actually, just one . . .”
Glancing up, I catch Sterling watching me. I wonder if he remembers that night as fondly as I do. Distracted, I clear my throat and motion for Charles to continue.
“To receive his inheritance, he has to be wed. And we have six months to make that happen.”
I study Sterling’s expression, trying to make sense of his feelings on this. His smirk is amused, as if to say, Isn’t this a fine little mess we’ve found ourselves in?
I cross my legs beneath the table. He’s an attorney, so he makes good money; maybe he doesn’t need it. “How many millions are we talking here?”
Charles purses his lips. “Fifty million dollars.”
Okay, scratch that. Who’s going to say no to that kind of money? Damn. No pressure or anything.
My heart starts to gallop. “And you want me to . . .”
I leave the rest unfinished. Seriously, what is my role in this crazy scenario? An impending panic attack lurks under my cool facade. If they think I’m going to be the one to marry him, they’ve fucking lost it.
“I take it you saw the media circus and hordes of women out there?” Charles asks. “Everyone’s vying for a piece of the new millionaire bachelor.”
As I nod, my gaze drifts over to Sterling once again. I wonder how he feels about all this, about all the attention. Does he feel like a piece of meat? I would. Those women are nothing but gold diggers looking to cash in. Then again, as a manwhore, maybe he’s loving it. Maybe he actually collects thongs as trophies.
“Your role will be to manage this entire process from start to finish. To come up with and execute a plan that ends with Sterling married before the six-month deadline.”
Huh. So that explains what I’m doing here.
Sterling’s cocky smirk pulls into a full-on grin. “I have to be to court in an hour. Camryn will handle this.”
Camryn will handle this? Dude. What in the actual fuck? Does he not understand that the this we’re discussing is his future, his wife?
I’m a PR executive at one of New York City’s best marketing and publicity firms. I’m not the fucking millionaire matchmaker.
I’m going to kill Olivia.
Chapter Four
Sterling
“So, what are you going to do?” Noah asks, his smirk smug.
The cocksucker is having a moment of déjà vu. It was only a handful of months ago that he told me about the arranged marriage his father’s will proposed, and I was the one mocking him and telling him it would never work. Seriously, what are the odds that two friends would each find themselves in a marry-or-else situation? This is the twenty-first century, is it not?
“There’s no way I’m letting millions go. I’m going to do what any normal man would do. I’m getting fucking married,” I tell him.
Noah chuckles low under his breath. We’re seated at a bistro near the courthouse where I’ve just finished dissolving the marriage of two nasty clients involved in an intense custody battle. It’s disturbing that two people who vowed to love each other for all of eternity, who produced three humans together, could turn so viciously on each other. Then again, I know all of this from personal experience too, which makes it sting all the worse.
I take another sip of lukewarm tea, and try to let it go. But bloody hell, with my own marriage looming on the horizon like a death sentence, it’s hard to imagine how I can possibly put myself through something similar. I just have to remember the reason I’m doing this, make a plan, focus on it, and not let anything get in the way, even my own desires.
“You’ll be fine.” Noah takes a sip and nods at me over the rim of his cup. “Look at me and Olivia.”
They’re happier than two drunk soldiers at a whorehouse. But they’re the exception, not the rule. They’ve known each other since they were kids, and their fathers had a hand in uniting them, both in business, by naming them co-CEOs, and also in love. My situation is totally different. I’m going to be forced to marry a virtual stranger or else lose out on millions, all because my great-grandfather was old-fashioned and thought that a man of my age needs a wife and family.
“How’s Olivia getting on?” I ask, needing a topic change.
A sappy smile graces Noah’s lips, and the bastard lets out a dreamy sigh.
It’s better to focus on his happy life than my dreadful one.
Chapter Five
Camryn
“And if I refuse?” I place my hands on my hips.