The Marriage Dare

He takes another step forward and extends his hand. “I’m Daniel. It’s a long time, no see, Monica.”

A bunch of things click together in my head, and my mouth literally drops open. Okay. I have seen him before. Have met him. But I haven’t seen him in years. Not since we were both teenagers. Daniel Argent. The skinny boy who lived next door. I can’t say that I was exactly kind to him, even if I wanted to be. But that was a long time ago and things were very, very different then. “Daniel,” I say, as I take his hand. “Wow. I…did not expect that.”

“No,” he says, “I wouldn’t think so. Why would you remember somebody like me?”

I flush, embarrassed at his assessment, but I can’t exactly disagree with it. I was merciless when I was younger. I thought that the world belonged to me, and I never knew anything about true hardship. That, I’ve been learning about recently, and the crash course hasn’t been fun, though it may have been necessary.

I take another sip of the drink to steady myself. “How have you been?”

“I’m doing all right,” he says with a simple shrug of his shoulders. “Brazen is doing very well. I’m very pleased with expansion.”

I can’t stop the gasp that escapes me. “Brazen? As in Brazen Casinos? You own them?”

He nods. “Every last one.”

Wow. Okay. “That’s amazing. Really. I’m happy you’ve done so well for yourself.”

“Are you?” he asks, tilting his head. “The Monica I knew wouldn’t be pleased about that. Though from the state of that dress, you’re not exactly the Monica I used to know.”

The blush is in full force on my face and I have to look away from him. “What’s wrong with my dress?” The words come out softly, and I’m not sure I want to know what he has to say about my appearance, but I suddenly can’t stop myself. I need to know.

“I grew up poor. I can see a dress that doesn’t belong to you. It doesn’t fit. It’s too long, and the hem is in disrepair. Most women who come into my casino take pride in their appearance.”

The words cut deep, and my anger overcomes my embarrassment. “This dress is mine. Just from a long time ago. The Daniel I knew wouldn’t judge someone because they were wearing older clothes.”

He leans closer, eyes burning. “The Daniel you knew took a lot more shit than I do, Princess.”

Oh my God. The word princess hits me right in the gut, and even though he’s looking at me like I’m the last person in the world he wants to be sitting with, I want him to close the distance. I want him to kiss me. I want to feel his anger transmuted into something deeper, and hotter. He sees it in my eyes, and smiles. When he leans back into his chair, I’m left practically panting with the need for him to come closer again.

“So you need money,” he says. “How the mighty have fallen? Never thought I’d see the day when the Blast Dynasty wanted for anything.”

I freeze. “So you don’t know what happened?”

“No. Tell me.”

“I’ll save my breath. One google search will tell you what you need to know.”

He raises an eyebrow, but pulls out his phone and reads. I know exactly what he’ll find. That my father, Andrew Blast, the famous real estate mogul and hedge fund genius, was pulling shady shit. Cutting corners and endangering people’s lives with the construction he built, and all in order to save money. As far his investments, they were all a sham, most of the money going into his pocket. He did it for years. The construction business caused millions of dollars in damage, maybe more. Thousands of people lost their retirements and livelihood because they invested with him.

My father is in jail now, but in a prison that might as well be a country club. He turned over the names of a lot of people to make a deal with the federal agents investigating him, and in return he gets to live out his sentence in a place that’s a glorified hotel. My family’s entire fortune is gone, covering the thousands of lawsuits and settlements. Fixing the safety issues he created in his buildings and rebuilding the life savings of people far worse off than we ever were. His decisions have led to the death of over 100 people, and even though I had nothing to do with any of it, it destroyed my life.

My law degree is utterly worthless because no one will hire me. No one wants a Blast working for them, and it’s too late to change my name and start over. The damage has been done. I don’t even blame them. I have a recognizable face due to my stint on the pageant circuit and the fact that my father was known across the country. Unless I undergo massive plastic surgery, I’m left with the reputation that he left me.