Possessive Fake Husband

She looks at me. “Hey.” She forces herself to smile. “That sucked.”

“Yeah.” I walk over and sit next to her. I pull her over and hold her against me. “It’ll be okay.”

“I don’t think you get what just happened,” she says and pulls away. “Sylvia Lofthouse just told us to stop what we’re doing… and you told her to fuck off.”

“I didn’t say it that way,” I muse. “But more or less, yeah, you’re right.”

“That doesn’t happen.” She laughs. “You don’t tell Sylvia she can’t have what she wants. That never goes well.”

“I hear you,” I say. “But what do we have to lose? If we defy her and she ruins this deal, then it’s done. If we listen, the deal’s done, too. The only chance we have of getting what we want is to move forward and hope that your aunt backs off.”

She takes a deep breath and lets it out, closing her eyes. “I know that’s true. I just hate it.”

“I know. She’s only doing what she thinks is right for her family, and we have to do the same.”

She gives me a long look. “Our family?”

I smile a little. “You know. Me and you.”

She laughs. “Sounds like you forgot that this little marriage is a sham.”

“Oh, I haven’t forgotten. But I’m starting to get used to you.”

Her smile wanes and she gets up. “I’m heading upstairs,” she says. “I need to think a little bit.”

“Okay.” I watch her go. I want to follow her, kiss her, tell her it’ll all be okay, but she says she needs alone time right now, so I won’t press.

Still, I won’t back down, either. I feel anger shift through me all over again. That woman thinks she can stroll in here and tell me what to do with my own company, but it’s not happening. She’s not getting in my way, and neither is the board.

I’m going to convince them. I’m going to get my way. This merger will happen, sooner or later.

And as for Maggie…

She’s going to be mine.

There’s no turning away from this. I’m on course to get what I need, and she’s coming with me, one way or another.17MaggieI take a night to think about that meeting with Aunt Sylvia, my brain running a mile a minute.

Growing up, I only spent a little time with the Lofthouse family. Even though she’s my father’s sister, we still didn’t see her much. When she married into the Lofthouses, she disappeared, or at least that’s how my dad describes it. One day, she was herself, and the next, she was an entirely different person.

In the morning, I call him up. I need to talk to someone about what happened, and he’s the only person I trust right now. “Hey, Dad,” I say.

“Good morning,” he says. “How are you? How’s Josh?”

“We’re good,” I say. “He’s good.”

“He being good to you?” He always asks that, and I can’t help but smile.

“He’s being good,” I say. “That’s not why I called.”

“It’s early,” he says, and his voice sounds a little bit deeper than usual.

“Did I wake you up?”

“No, no, I was getting up anyway.” He sighs. “What time is it?”

“A little past nine.”

“Right.” He grunts and I think he’s getting out of bed. “So what’s up, honey?”

“Your sister stopped by last night. Aunt Sylvia.”

He’s quiet for a long moment, but I can hear him breathing. “What did she want?” she asks.

“She all but told Josh to stop pursuing the merger.”

He lets out a breath. “Really?”

“She says he’s embarrassing her. Have you…. Heard anything?”

“Only what you’ve told me,” he says. “The car washing stuff isn’t great, but I fail to see how that’s embarrassing her.”

“Doesn’t matter. Apparently someone is spreading rumors about what we’re doing. I think it’s one of the guys on the board, this man named Seb. He’s trying to sabotage us.”

“And now Sylvia is in on the game.” He laughs. “You know it’s bad when the Lofthouse Queen steps down off her throne.”

I smile a little. That’s how Dad talks about his sister what he’s annoyed with her. I have to admit, I’ve heard him call her that more than a few times.

“Yeah, well, now I’m trying to figure out what to do,” I admit. “She can ruin all of this if she wants to.”

“She probably could,” he agrees. “But do you really want to give in to her demands like that?”

“No,” I say. “Of course not. But you know what she’s like.”

He laughs again, softer this time. “I do,” he says. “But she wasn’t always. I remember her when she was still just Sylvia Fyall. She was a talkative girl and she drove you grandparents nuts. Did you know that?”

“No, you never told me that.”

“Oh, god. They used to yell at her all the time. ‘Sylvia! Watch your mouth! Can you just be quiet for ten seconds?’ My mom would tell at her all the time. And Sylvia would just laugh and keep on talking like anyone cared what she said.”