BULL (The Buck Boys Heroes Book 1) Page 3

  Technically he’s right, but I’ll always know I said I do to my boss to pad my bank account. I have to live with that, and I’m not sure I can regardless of how much money he’s offering me.

  “I don’t understand why you told Mr. Abdon we were married in the first place,” I say with a hint of exasperation in my tone. “How did that happen?”

  He closes his eyes briefly and draws a deep breath.

  “It’s easy to tell him that we’re not married,” I go on, “I can do it if you’d prefer.”

  I wouldn’t say I have a friendship with Lloyd Abdon, but I know he’s fond of me. He’s told me that every time he’s come into the office.

  Mr. Locke studies my face. “Lloyd told me I was fucking up my life.”

  My eyes widen. “What?”

  He tilts his head back. “We discussed my future plans outside of the office, and I didn’t have an answer that fits into what he considers acceptable.”

  That’s a lot of words that say very little, so I ask for clarification. “I don’t understand.”

  “Since he promoted me to CEO, he’s asked about the women in my life.” He glances toward the open doorway of his office. “There hasn’t been anyone worth discussing, so he started bringing you up.”

  “Me?” I ask, feeling a blush creep up my neck.

  “Miss Shaw is a remarkable person.” He taps a finger against his palm. “Miss Shaw is smart and kind. She’s a considerate young woman.”

  “Mr. Abdon said those things about me?”

  “And more.” He nods. “Eventually, I told him we were seeing each other outside the office. I thought that would be enough to appease him, but he kept pressing me to pop the question and set a date, so I told him the other day we were married in a civil ceremony this week. The words came out before I could stop myself.”

  I’ve known Mr. Locke for more than a year, and I’d never peg him as someone who bows to pressure, not even pressure applied at the hand of his boss.

  “Lloyd has relocated to Paris, so I assumed he’d stay there.” He scrubs a hand over the back of his neck. “This visit was unexpected.”

  He has filled in some of the blanks, but I still feel I’m missing a big piece of this puzzle.

  I try a new approach. “You said that I could file for a divorce ninety days from now.”

  “That’s right.”

  “Why ninety days?” I ask with a perk of my brow. “Are you going to tell Mr. Abdon that I left you three months into our marriage because of your attitude?”

  A smirk settles over his lips. “My attitude?”

  I nod.

  I’m not giving him more than that because I really need that letter of recommendation. The chances of me walking out of here with a job are looking less likely by the second.

  “Three months is sufficient,” he says.

  That’s all he says.

  It’s as though the rest of his explanation just fell off the edge of a cliff and is forever lost in the abyss of confusion that is my life right now.

  “Sufficient?” I repeat. “Explain that, please, sir.”

  He glances down at his watch. He knows that the minutes are ticking away.

  “Sir?” I wave my hand in the air to get his attention. “What did you mean when you said that three months is sufficient?”

  Before I can move my hand, he has it wrapped in his.

  It’s the first time I’ve ever touched Graham Locke. We didn’t shake hands when we met, and he’s always been mindful of my personal space.

  His eyes find mine. “Miss Shaw.”

  “Yes?” I reply in a soft tone.

  “Mr. Abdon is ill.” He swallows hard. “He told me that he has limited time left. He wants to spend the next two to three months in New York City tying up loose ends with the business. Then he plans on returning to Paris to live his final days. You’ll need to stay married to me until he’s back in France or God forbid if he doesn’t make it back, until he…”

  I draw in a quick breath. “He’s sick?”

  “He doesn’t want anyone to know.” He squeezes my hand. “I made a promise to him that I’d keep that between the two of us.”

  Tears threaten, but I blink them back, determined to keep a sound mind during this discussion.

  “Mr. Abdon has no family to speak of,” he goes on. “This marriage that he believes has taken place means a great deal to him.”

  This changes everything. Mr. Abdon is a good person.

  I met him when I was in the lobby of this building. I walked into the wrong skyscraper on my way to a job interview. I asked Mr. Abdon to help direct me to the right place, not realizing who he was.

  He asked to see a copy of my resume. I showed him the one in my purse, and he hired me on the spot to be the assistant to the CEO.

  My gaze drops to the prenup.

  If I can help keep a smile on Mr. Abdon’s face while he’s in Manhattan, that’s worth more than any amount of money my boss is offering. I admit the money won’t go to waste, though.

  “Deceiving him when he was across an ocean was hard enough,” he confesses. “I can’t look him in the eye and tell him we’re married if we’re not. I need this to happen, Miss Shaw. He’s the best person I’ve ever known. I want his final days to be happy.”

  “I’ll marry you,” I whisper. “But I’m only doing it for Mr. Abdon.”

  “That’s the only reason I’m marrying you,” my future husband says. “Sign on the dotted line, Miss Shaw, and let’s get to the courthouse.”

  Chapter Six

  Graham

  Jesus. What a goddamn day this is turning out to be.

  I was moving through the trials and tribulations of any typical weekday when my boss tossed me a curveball that upended my entire life. I didn’t foresee Lloyd Abdon making a last minute trip to Manhattan, but it’s happening.

  I’m standing in front of Judge Peggy Mycella with my assistant by my side as we exchange vows.

  “I do,” I blurt out, likely before I was prompted to.

  Miss Shaw glances at me with some serious side-eye.

  Peggy sighs. “Graham, it wasn’t your turn. I was asking Trina if she takes you to be her lawfully wedded husband.”

  “I don’t have a choice,” Miss Shaw answers.

  That drives Peggy’s gaze in her direction. “You always have a choice, Trina.”

  My assistant shakes her head. “My choice is to do the right thing, so I have to do it. I have to marry him.”

  “Are you pregnant?” Peggy asks. “I realize that asking that question is outside of the boundary of everything that is appropriate, but I know firsthand that a capable woman can raise a child on her own. Besides, Graham may be far from perfect, but given his past, I trust that he would step up and help monetarily and in other ways with his child.”

  What the fuck?

  “Pregnant?” Miss Shaw’s mouth drops open. “We’ve never had sex.”

  Peggy’s eyes widen as her gaze shifts back to me. “That’s surprising, but I respect it. Waiting until you’re married will make your first time together that much more special.”

  For Christ’s sake. I just want this ceremony to be over.

  “She does,” I state calmly. “Miss Shaw does take me to be her husband.”

  Peggy sighs heavily. “Perhaps we should take a moment to discuss this. I’m wondering if Trina is invested in this as deeply as you are, Graham.”

  “I do,” Miss Shaw says. “I’ll do it. Yes. I’ll marry him.”

  That’s one hurdle behind me.

  I roll my hand in the air. “Get to my part.”

  Peggy slides her glasses back up the bridge of her nose and drops her gaze to the paper in her hand. “Graham Locke, do you take this woman to be your lawfully wedded wife? Do you promise to love and honor her, and…”

  “I do,” I shout. “I’ll do it all.”

  That lures a smile from Peggy. “I love seeing that kind of exuberance from a groom. I suppose you’re in a hurr
y to get this over with so you can start on the wedding night festivities.”

  “Sure,” I say just as Miss Shaw drops a muted, “no way” from her lips.

  I yank the ring box I tried to give my almost wife earlier out of my jacket pocket. I pop open the lid. “Let’s get to the rings.”

  Peggy bends down to look at the stunning five-carat diamond ring I bought a few hours ago. “Oh, my word, that is a ring.”

  It was the store clerk’s choice. She went on about how any woman would be forever grateful to wear this ring. I rushed her along by waving my credit card in her face after telling her to pick a wedding band for me. Once we found one that fit, I paid and took off with both rings.

  I dive my hand back into my pocket to retrieve the plain silver band that will adorn my ring finger for the next ninety days.

  We go through the task of sliding rings on each other’s fingers before we turn to face Peggy one last time.

  “By the power vested in me by the State of New York, I now pronounce you husband and wife,” she pauses. “You may now kiss your bride, Graham.”

  I turn to Miss Shaw.

  Wanting to avoid any further questions from Peggy, I intend to close out this show with a memorable kiss.

  My wife has other plans.

  She plants a hand on my shoulder, leans closer, and touches her lips to my cheek.

  The first thing I noticed about Miss Shaw when I met her was how unbelievably beautiful she is.

  She’s tall. I’m six feet, and when she’s in heels, as she is now, we’re nose to nose.

  Her blue eyes are strikingly vibrant. They are mesmerizing to the point that it’s distracting. Her hair is golden blonde, and when she doesn’t pin it up, it cascades around her shoulders.

  When Lloyd announced that she was my new assistant, I panicked briefly. If I had bumped into her in the lobby that day instead of him, I would have asked her out and likely pursued her until I had her in bed.

  Since I’ve gotten to know her, I’ve realized that we’re far too different to connect on any level other than one that aligns us as allies in the office.

  Yet, here we are.

  Married temporarily, and it’s all because of my reckless pursuit to please a man who gave me a chance when no one else would.

  I owe Lloyd Abdon far more than I can ever repay him for.

  I only hope what I did today will give him some sense of joy.

  “Can I go home now?” Miss Shaw asks as we exit the courthouse.

  I didn’t think this plan through to the point of living arrangements, but since Lloyd isn’t set to step on a plane bound for New York for a few more hours, I nod. “Of course.”

  Her gaze drops to the diamond ring on her finger. “You went all out on this. I’ll take good care of it until we’re divorced.”

  “It’s yours to keep, Miss Shaw.”

  Her eyes meet mine. “I don’t want to keep it.”

  “You will,” I say simply. “I have a prior engagement, so I’ll call a car to see you home safely.”

  “A prior engagement?” Her tone suggests the question dives deeper than surface level.

  I’m not going to discuss my romantic past with my wife. There was no prior engagement or anything serious at all.

  There was work and a few short-term relationships to fill my time until I found more work to do.

  I’m twenty-nine. Marriage wasn’t something I even vaguely considered before this morning.

  “Yes,” I answer.

  She doesn’t press for more, and I don’t offer anything beyond that one word reply. There’s no need to tell her that I’m meeting my three closest friends for dinner.

  I tug my phone from the inner pocket of my jacket with the intention of calling one of our company drivers to pick up Miss Shaw.

  Her hand moves to my forearm. “I can get home on my own, sir.”

  I glance at her. “Graham. Please try and call me Graham when we’re in the presence of Mr. Abdon.”

  “Graham,” she repeats.

  I nod.

  “I’m going to take the subway,” she says as she twirls the ring on her finger to hide the diamond from view. “I’ll see you at the office tomorrow.”

  “Goodnight, Miss Shaw.”

  Her lips lift into a soft smile. “It’s Trina or Mrs. Locke.”

  Indeed it is.

  “Trina, “ I go for the less jarring choice. “Goodnight, Trina.”

  “Bye, Graham.” She wiggles her fingers in the air before she starts in a brisk walk down the sidewalk.

  Chapter Seven

  Trina

  I stare at the ring on my finger.

  I half-convinced myself before I fell asleep last night that I’d wake this morning to realize that it was all a dream, but this stunning diamond ring says otherwise.

  Even though I’m not changing my name legally for this temporary arrangement, Mr. Abdon will still view me as Trina Locke.

  “Trina Locke,” I whisper. “Mrs. Locke.”

  When I blurted it out to Mr. Locke last night, it was a joke. Now, I’m starting to realize just how uncomfortable it makes me to say it and hear it.

  I finish brushing my hair before dressing in a navy blue pencil skirt and a light blue blouse.

  Blue is my color.

  I’ve had enough people tell me that to convince me it’s true.

  Just as I’m about to slip my feet into a pair of nude heels, my phone chimes from my bedside table.

  I rush over and pick it up to read the text message on the screen.

  Mr. Locke: Mr. Abdon will be arriving in New York shortly after 1 PM. I’ll forward you his itinerary. Schedule a car to pick him up from the airport and make arrangements for his stay at the Bishop Hotel Tribeca.

  No good morning, or how are you doing, wife…nothing but another one of his curt orders.

  This one is different, though, and I intend to treat it as such.

  I type back a response.

  Trina: I’ll handle it.

  Once I hit send, I open my contact list and scroll down to my boss’s name. I edit the details switching out Mr. Locke for Graham.

  If I’m going to train my brain to call him that, I need to start this very second.

  Another text message arrives just as I go back to the messaging app.

  Graham: As you’re aware, I’ll be in meetings most of the day. I suggest we discuss what to say to Lloyd before we meet him at the hotel later for a drink. Agreed?

  Yeah, no.

  I won’t agree to that.

  I’m not sending one of the company’s drivers to the airport to pick up its founder. That will not happen on my watch.

  I choose my words carefully before I text Graham back.

  Trina: You have an opening at 4. I’ll be at my desk.

  I press send, leave my bedroom, and head to the kitchen for a quick breakfast before I start my first official day as Mrs. Locke.

  Worry settles in my belly as I watch the passengers that were on the same flight as Mr. Abdon file past me.

  I’m at JFK airport waiting in the arrival area for Mr. Abdon.

  I know, for sure, that he would have deplaned first. He always deplanes first because he’s superstitious about where he will sit on an airplane.

  “It’s the first row all the way, Trina,” he told me once.

  I remembered that advice on the day I took my first flight ever. I was headed to Cincinnati to visit my sister, Falon, and her husband, Asher Foster.

  The trip was their gift for my twenty-fourth birthday, including the first class airline ticket.

  I sat in the second row that day, terrified and excited at the same time. When the plane landed, Falon was there to greet me. She took me to the hotel they were staying in and checked me into a luxury suite. A few hours later, we watched her husband perform to a sold-out crowd on the final stop of his world tour.

  My brother-in-law just happens to be a rock star.

  He offered me a job when I graduated from coll
ege. I jumped at the chance to handle the duties of being his assistant, but over time, I realized that mixing business with family wasn’t for me.

  I had to venture out on my own, and fortunately for me, Mr. Abdon fell into my path.

  I breathe a sigh of relief when he appears.

  I can tell immediately that he’s changed since the last time I saw him months ago. He’s thinner, he’s walking more slowly, and the usual bounce in his gait isn’t there anymore.

  Rushing toward him, I hold up the makeshift sign I made before I left the office.

  His laughter fills the terminal once he spots it and me.

  “World’s most handsome watchmaker,” he reads it aloud. “If that’s not fuel for my weary soul, I don’t know what is.”

  Before I can say anything, he tugs me into an embrace.

  It’s the first time he’s done that, and I relish in it. I hold him tightly as he clings to me.

  “Oh no,” he whispers close to my ear. “I’m in trouble.”

  Fear darts through me as I step back. I search his face for a clue, worried that he’s in medical distress. “Are you all right, sir?”

  “Your husband is headed this way.” He tilts his chin up. “And he doesn’t look happy.”

  It takes me a second to unpack that because I’ve only had a husband for less than a day.

  I turn to see Graham walking toward us.

  Well, hello, hot husband.

  The man is turning heads. He’s looking all kinds of perfect in his gray suit. His hair is slightly messy, which is a new look for him. I like it. I like it a lot.

  He darts a hand through it as though he can read my mind. “It’s windy outside.”

  My eyes catch on the silver band on his left hand.

  I put that there. It may be temporary and have little meaning, but my heart doesn’t get that memo because it starts pounding inside my chest.