PAST
On Thursday, our last day in Vegas, Ned took the afternoon off. We went out for lunch, and he ordered yet more champagne to celebrate both my birthday and Paul Martin finally agreeing to an interview for Exclusives. We’d had to stay longer than Ned had intended to secure it; by the time we flew out the next day, we would have been gone for six days.
“Justine is going to be thrilled,” I said, when Ned told me. “Have you told her yet?”
“No, because I want to be able to see her face. So, no letting the cat out of the bag.”
“I won’t,” I promised. “I bet you can’t wait to get back.”
He drained his glass. “Actually, no. I wish I could stay here forever.”
“Why?”
He twirled the stem of the flute between his finger and thumb, a habit of his. “Because my parents are pressuring me to marry a girl that I don’t want to marry. They’ve invited her and her parents to stay next weekend and they’re expecting me to propose to her. She’s a nice girl, I’ve known her for years. But I’m not going to marry her, even for the sake of the Hawthorpe Foundation.”
I frowned. “What do you mean?”
He signaled to the waiter, who brought over the red wine that Ned had asked him to decant into a carafe.
“She’s Isobel Algerson, Steve Algerson’s daughter,” Ned explained as the waiter poured a little wine into his glass. “He and my father are great friends, and Steve has donated millions to the foundation. My mother and Priscilla Algerson are best friends, their son, Matt, is my best friend, so our marriage would be a win-win situation for everyone.” He took his glass, breathed the scent of the wine in through his nose, then nodded to the waiter. “Except me,” he added, as the waiter filled our glasses.
I smiled my thanks to the waiter. “How does Isobel feel about you? If she doesn’t want to marry you, that would make everything alright, wouldn’t it?”
“Unfortunately, she’s been told from an early age that I’m her destiny.” He raised his glass toward me. “Here’s to my marriage.”
We clinked our glasses together.
“But nobody can force you to marry her,” I said.
He gave a grim laugh. “Have you met my father? I’m already a huge disappointment to him because of the magazine, and to my mother, because I’m still unmarried at thirty-three.”
“Don’t you want to get married?”
“Yes, but not to Isobel Algerson. She’s not the sort of girl I want to marry.”
“What sort of girl do you want to marry?”
“Someone my parents would disapprove of, just to annoy them and get them off my back. That’s why my father is so against the magazine. He’s afraid I’m going to end up marrying a pop star or actress, which wouldn’t be in keeping with the image he wishes to portray for his precious foundation. He thinks that everyone I meet is a drug user, and he has told me that my future wife can’t have any history with regard to drugs.” He gave a dry laugh. “It makes Isobel the perfect wife for me. Not only has she never touched drugs, but she also works as a volunteer for an addiction and mental health charity.” He looked at me. “Have you ever used drugs?”
I shook my head. “No.”
“Not even smoked a joint?”
“Not even. What about you?”
“Believe it or not, I haven’t. I vowed I wouldn’t after my brother died.” He held up his wineglass. “This is my vice.”
“I don’t really drink either. In fact, I’ve probably drank more this lunchtime than I have in my whole life.”
He lapsed into silence, and I didn’t know whether he hadn’t heard what I said or if he was thinking about it. I took a sip of wine, so smooth and velvety that I took another sip.
“It’s a Château Margaux,” he said, and I realized he’d been watching me.
I laughed. “I have no idea what that is.”
He smiled. “A very nice wine.”
“Then I’ll make sure to remember the name.”
“Actually Amelie, the reason I mentioned my marriage is because I have a proposition for you. A business proposition,” he added, stressing the word business.
“Oh?” I said, intrigued.
“From what you’ve told me, you’ve been working for the last couple of years to be able to pay for yourself to go to college.”
“That’s right.”
“How much does it cost to go to college nowadays?”
“Without a grant? Around twenty thousand a year, for fees and accommodation, maybe more. Then there’s living expenses and books. So, between twenty-five thousand and thirty thousand.”
“And how many years are you planning on being at college?”
“A basic law degree is three years. And then I’ll hopefully have a two-year training contract with a good law firm.”
“So, you’re looking at an outlay of around a hundred thousand for three years.”
“Not quite,” I said, wincing inwardly at the amount. “But I hope to get a grant, and I’ll have to get a part-time job to cover the rest.”
He leaned back in his chair. “Okay, so here’s my proposition. I’ll give you the hundred thousand you need to go to college if you marry me now, here in Las Vegas.”
I stared at him. “Marry you?”
“In name only,” he said firmly. “And for the shortest time possible. As I said, it’s a business proposition, not a proposal.” Now he leaned forward. “Think about it, Amelie. We get married, I give you a hundred thousand. My parents are furious but powerless. I’m off the hook regarding Isobel Algerson and you can go to college without having to worry about money. A couple of weeks later, we say that we got carried away by the whole Las Vegas vibe, we’ve realized now that our marriage was a silly mistake, and that we’re separating. Then we file for divorce.”
I couldn’t believe he was serious. “We couldn’t,” I said. “It wouldn’t work.”
“Why not?”
“Because nobody would believe it. I mean, why would we get married? I work for you, you’re my boss. It’s not as if we’ve hung out together or anything.”
“We can say we’ve been seeing each other secretly.”
I laughed. “You really think that people would believe that?”
“Why wouldn’t they?”
“Because no one would believe that you would actually marry me, not when you are who you are, and I’m who I am.”
He shrugged. “Stranger marriages have happened. Beautiful models marry old men, young men marry old women, ladies marry tramps. Marriages of convenience.” He paused. “No strings, I promise. I don’t expect anything, except for you to act as if you’re happy to be married to me for those first few weeks until we announce that we’re separating.”
I shook my head, trying to rid it of the absurdity of what Ned was proposing. But somewhere, I felt the stirrings of excitement at the thought of taking control of my life, of being able to fulfill my dream of going to college so easily. I tried to imagine what it would be like to not have to work part-time to supplement my grant—if I managed to get one—and be able to devote myself fully to studying. It would be total luxury. But.
“I couldn’t,” I said.
“Because?”
“Because it wouldn’t be right. We’d be tricking people.”
“Who are you concerned about tricking? You said you don’t have any family.”
“Well, Carolyn, for a start. I couldn’t lie to her, I’d have to tell her the truth.”
He nodded, sat back. “In that case, let’s forget this whole conversation.”
I looked at him, startled. “Oh.”
“I’m sorry, Amelie, but for it to work, you’d have to agree not to tell anyone that it was purely a business transaction, even once we’ve separated. But if you feel you have to be straight with Carolyn, I respect that.” He paused. “Although, if you’re worried what Carolyn might think of you, wouldn’t she be more understanding if she thought you’d made a silly mistake, rather than a calculated decision?”
It bothered me that he was right. Carolyn would think less of me if I admitted that I’d only married Ned because he offered to give me one hundred thousand pounds.
“She would still wonder where the money came from,” I said.
“I’ve thought of how to explain that to everyone. Shall I run through it for you?”
“Alright. But I still think it’s crazy.”
“So, we leave this bar, we go and get married. We need a license, which I already have.”
I frowned. “How come?”
“Because yesterday, I had a particularly fraught phone call with my father. He was incensed that I’d come here without telling him, and accused me of trying to escape the weekend with the Algersons. That’s when I came up with the whole idea. I made inquiries, discovered that we’d need to get a license twenty-four hours before the event, and arranged one in case I decided to tell you what I’d been thinking. Because, as you rightly said, it’s a pretty crazy idea. But a crazy idea that could work in both our favors.” He paused. “So, once we’re married, I release the news to the press. Tomorrow, when we arrive in England, we go to my house in Wentworth where you’ll have your own rooms. At some point, the press will want an interview, during which we’ll play the happy couple. A few weeks later, we announce that we’ve realized our marriage was a mistake and are separating, pending our divorce. We file for divorce, I pay you the hundred thousand that people will think is our divorce settlement, you move back to your apartment. That way, people will never be able to say that you married me for my money.”
“I’m glad you thought of that,” I said. “I’d hate people to think that of me.”
“But please know that I’m happy to give you more if you want.”
“No.” I shook my head quickly.
“Does that mean you agree?”
“I’ll need to think about it.”
He shot back his cuff, glanced at his watch. “You have approximately forty-five minutes. The ceremony, if you decide to go through with it, is booked for four o’clock.”
“Wow,” I said, my heart racing. “No pressure then.”
“Actually, no pressure at all. It’s entirely up to you.” He nodded to somewhere over my shoulder. “See that chapel? That’s where the ceremony will be. Why don’t you go for a walk and think it through? If you decide it’s something you’d like to go ahead with, I’ll meet you outside at five to four. Wear something cute so that we can take a picture for the press. If not, I’ll see you back at the hotel.”