But she didn’t have a choice. She’d have to stand it. If this business deal got out, Jared would look like a complete ass, and it would give him the legal right to sue her. Plus, she’d have to forf
eit the money—pay back every single dime of it. On the flip side, if Jared leaked the information, she’d have the legal right to sue him—and collect twice the amount of money they’d originally agreed to.
Going to her desk, she settled into the chair, opening her MacBook so she could Google Jared. Again. She’d stayed up half the night researching him, reading the endless articles that detailed the circumstances behind the Craig and Tabitha Wallace scandal. His past indiscretions, the fights he’d gotten into on the field during his college years. How quickly he’d turned around that particular bad habit.
The Super Bowl victory, the many, many articles that detailed last year’s shoulder injury that put him out of commission for the last half of the season. The Hawks had made it to a wild card game, going for their chance to get into the playoffs, but they’d failed. Many blamed it on Jared not playing.
Such enormous pressure. She didn’t know how he did it.
Without thought, she clicked on the images tab at the top, the screen displaying an endless list of photographs of Jared. Out on the field, in uniform and with his helmet on, though anyone could make out that gorgeous face. Practicing with his teammates clad in a Hawks T-shirt and long athletic shorts, sweaty and delicious as the photographer caught him poised perfectly to throw the ball.
Leaning her elbow on the edge of her desk, she rested her chin in her hand, slowly scrolling through the images. This man, this really, really famous, ridiculously good-looking man was going to be her husband. She’d have to pretend she was madly in love with him. Would have to spend time with him on a near-constant basis, though with the football season ready to launch into full throttle, she wouldn’t see him as much when he traveled.
The entire situation was…mind-boggling. She still couldn’t believe she’d agreed to it.
The bell that hung over the front door of her studio gently clanged, indicating someone had come inside. Shutting her laptop, she rose from her desk, ready to approach when she halted in her steps, seeing who stood in the middle of her studio.
Her future fake husband.
“Hope you don’t mind that I stopped by.” Jared glanced around, his eyes wide as he took everything in.
Had he noticed much last time he was here, especially her private workspace? Talk about a messy jumble of stuff. Paint, brushes, and blank canvases, bits of paper and glitter, and photos she’d recently ripped out of magazines she’d wanted to save for inspiration. At least it was what she considered “controlled chaos,” and she knew where everything was.
“I don’t mind.” She clasped her hands in front of her, thankful she’d closed her laptop. If he’d caught her Googling him, she would’ve been mortified.
He walked the perimeter of her gallery, his head tilted back, taking in the paintings that hung on the wall, covering almost every available bit of space. “How long have you been here again?”
“A little over a year.” She still couldn’t believe she’d confessed to him this gallery had once been her grandma’s.
“I didn’t get a chance to tell you how much I liked it when I was here last.” He turned his head to study her, his sharp blue eyes meeting hers, making her nervous. “It’s very bright.”
“Which I’m sure is not your usual style,” she said wryly. Her work appealed mostly to women and children. He didn’t need to make nice just because they were going to be married.
Oh, God. Her heart dropped into her toes all over again at the thought.
“You changed.”
“What? Oh.” She glanced down at herself. Since she couldn’t wear her only good black pantsuit in the studio for fear of ruining it, she’d changed into a pair of old, paint-splattered jeans and an oversized navy blue sweater the moment she arrived. She always kept extra clothes around for moments just like that. “I’m leading a class later this afternoon.”
“Really. For whom?” He crossed his arms in front of his chest. Still clad in the suit that he wore earlier at the lawyer’s office, though he’d shed the jacket, loosened the tie, and rolled up the sleeves of his shirt. Revealing muscular forearms covered with golden hair, arms that were the most talented the NFL had to offer.
The realization left her weak in the knees. She knew what it felt like to be held in those arms.
“It’s an after-school class. I do a few of them each month.” They were a lot of fun. The kids were always enthusiastic to learn, easy to teach, and so creative. They painted with abandon and without fear.
“Huh. Well.” He paused, appearing a little unsure of how to proceed next. An unusual look for him, she was sure. “Now that we got the legalities out of the way, I need to know a few things.”
Instant worry made her stomach tumble and she stood straighter, hoping like crazy she looked calm, cool, and serene. “What do you need to know?”
Jared surprising her by coming to her studio was bad enough. That he asked her such a loaded question while looking utterly gorgeous set her on edge. His mere presence filled the room, overwhelming her, and she took a step back, needing the space.
As if he sensed her need and didn’t give a crap, he took a step forward, obliterating everything she saw, everything that surrounded them, until all she could see. Was. Jared.
“First, do you have any skeletons in your closet?”
She arched a brow. “Shouldn’t you have asked that prior to our signing the agreement?”
“I figured Harvey found out everything he could about you, including all the bad stuff. But maybe you have something to confess.”