Me &You By Contract

"Where are you going so early, Em?" Emily Carter froze at her sister's front door, her birth certificate, driver's license, and Social Security card tucked in her bag. Olivia stood on the stairs in her robe, hair flattened on one side. "Store inventory." Emily kept her smile bright. "Breakfast is on the stove. Eat before it gets cold, okay?" "You said that yesterday." Olivia came down a step. "And the day before. Em, you're never home anymore." "The store's busy." Emily adjusted the bag on her shoulder. "Summer rush." "Mm." Olivia's eyes narrowed. "That's not inventory, is it?" Emily said nothing. "You heard Daniel last night, didn't you?" Emily's grip tightened on the strap. She'd stood in that hallway with her key still in the lock, listening to her brother-in-law through the wall. "I heard nothing." She kissed Olivia's cheek. "Go back to bed, Sis." "Em, if he hurt you, I'll talk to him." "You have enough to carry." Emily squeezed her hand. "I'm fine. I promise." Half an hour later, her e-scooter crawled through Chicago traffic under the May heat. She parked outside the Cook County Courthouse, sat on a shaded bench, and whispered, "Okay. This is really happening." Her phone buzzed. "I'm stuck behind a bus, child," Grandma Evelyn said. "Don't you dare run off." "I'm not going anywhere, Grandma." But her mind went somewhere, all the way back to a burning afternoon two months ago. An elderly woman had stepped off a curb, one trembling hand out for balance. A black SUV roared toward her, and nobody moved. "Ma'am!" Emily dropped her scooter and sprinted. "Move!" She hauled the woman backward. The horn blasted, and the wind of the SUV tore past her sleeve. "Stay with me." Emily lowered her gently to the pavement. "Please, stay with me." At the hospital, the doctor found her in the corridor. "Low blood sugar. She fainted from the shock. You got her here in time." Emily's knees nearly buckled. In the room, the old woman's eyes fluttered open. "Who are you, child?" "Emily Carter, ma'am. Just rest." "Evelyn Walker." Thin fingers closed around hers. "And I owe you my life." "People help people, Mrs. Walker." Emily laughed softly. "That's all." She thought that was the end of it. The next morning, the chime above her bookstore door rang. "Mrs. Walker? You shouldn't be out in this heat!" "Call me Grandma." Evelyn lowered herself into a chair by the craft table. "I hear you make bookmarks. I'd like to watch." She came back the next day, and the next. Every morning at ten, she arrived with a thermos of tea and opinions. One rainy Tuesday, she watched Emily hand a free notebook to a boy who couldn't afford it. "You lost money on that," Evelyn said. "I gained a customer." Emily shrugged. "He'll come back when he has a dollar." "Hmm." Evelyn sipped her tea, and her eyes warmed. "Most people wouldn't." "He's eleven, Grandma. He wanted a notebook." "And you wanted him to have it. That's the difference." Evelyn smiled. "Character, child. It's the only thing money can't borrow." A month passed. Then, one afternoon, Evelyn set down her cup. "Emily. How would you like my grandson?" Emily laughed so hard she nearly dropped her scissors. "Grandma, you're joking." "I'm never joking before lunch." "I'm flattered, truly. But no." "We'll see." Evelyn patted her hand. "He's responsible, Emily. Steady. Kind, underneath all that ice." "Grandma, I've never even met him." "Then you'll have no disappointments." Emily smiled and gave neither yes nor no. Surely the idea would fade. Then came last night. "Fifty-fifty, Olivia," Daniel's voice had snapped through the wall. "Groceries, mortgage, the car loan. Your sister lives here, so she pays half." "She already gives us five hundred dollars a month," Olivia pleaded. "It isn't enough. She's a burden on this house, and you know it." Emily had gone to her room, turned off the light, and cried into her pillow without a sound. Olivia was exhausted. Olivia was fighting. If Emily vanished, the house could finally breathe. At two in the morning, she dialed. "Emily?" Evelyn's voice was thick with sleep. "Child, what's wrong?" "Grandma." Her voice shook. "I'll marry your grandson." A gasp of delight. "You mean it?" "I mean it." "Then we won't wait. Courthouse, tomorrow morning. Bring your documents." Now, on the bench, Emily opened her eyes. "Emily!" Evelyn climbed out of a plain black sedan, waving her cane. Beside her stood a man in a charcoal suit, and Emily's breath caught. Tall, broad through the shoulders, jaw like carved stone, eyes that gave away nothing. She'd expected a shy accountant. She hadn't expected *this*. "Emily, meet Ethan," Evelyn said proudly. "My eldest grandson." Ethan checked his watch, then looked at her. "Ms. Carter." "Mr. Walker." Emily offered her hand, and he shook it once, like signing for a package. "Let's get this done," he said. "Ethan," Evelyn scolded. "Say something nice to her." He considered it. "You're on time." "Wonderful," Evelyn muttered. "Romance is dead." Inside, the corridor smelled of floor wax and old paper. Ethan stopped before the clerk's window. "Ms. Carter." His voice was low and even. "If you want to leave, leave now. No one will think less of you. Not even my grandmother." "I'd think slightly less," Evelyn called from a bench. Ethan didn't smile. He simply waited, and Emily understood that he meant every word. He wasn't pushing her. He was holding the door open. She thought of Daniel's voice. Of Olivia's tired shoulders. "I gave my word," Emily said. "I'm staying." Something flickered across his face, too fast to name. "Very well." The ceremony took less than ten minutes. A bored officer recited the required words. Ethan signed with a steady hand, and Emily signed beside him. No flowers. No rings. No kiss. "Congratulations," the officer said, sliding the certificate across. "Thank you," Ethan said, as if he'd received a receipt. Emily glanced at the paper, then at him. "That's it?" "That's it." "Faster than my dentist." She almost smiled. "Okay." Outside, on the plaza, he pulled a set of keys from his pocket. "Springfield Heights. The address is on the tag. It's furnished, and about ten minutes from your store by bus." Emily took them. "That's generous." "The rules are simple." His hands slid into his pockets. "No one learns about this marriage. Not your sister, not your friends, not my colleagues. Understood?" "Understood." "I'll cover the necessities. Rent, utilities, groceries." "I can split the costs." "No." "I'd feel better if I contributed." "I said no." A pause. "Keep your money, Ms. Carter." "Okay." She tilted her head. "Anything else?" His eyes narrowed slightly. "My work keeps me busy. We'll rarely see each other. Separate rooms, separate lives." "That works for me. Do I sign anything else?" For the first time, Ethan looked at her properly. "You don't want to negotiate?" "For what?" Emily shrugged. "You're handing me a home, Mr. Walker. I won't argue about the doorknobs." Evelyn tapped her cane. "Emily, dear, wait on that bench. I need a private word with my grandson." "Of course." Emily gave him a small nod. "Thank you, Mr. Walker. For the keys." He said nothing, and she walked away. Ethan watched her go. Inside the courthouse doors, Evelyn crossed her arms. "Well?" "She said yes," Ethan said. "Of course she did. I told you she would." "Grandma." He kept his voice low. "Billions in assets, and she never asked me one question about money." "She even offered to pay half." "Perhaps because she doesn't care about it." "Or because she's patient." Ethan looked through the glass. His driver waited two blocks away with a black limousine, and his bodyguards sat in a gray van beside it. All of it hidden for her sake. "She thinks I'm a salaried man with a modest apartment. Let's see how long she believes it." "She signed in under ten minutes, Grandma. No questions, no demands. Nobody is that calm." "You're testing the girl who saved my life," Evelyn said softly. "I'm testing whether she stays once the money appears. Six months, Grandma. I watch, I wait. If she wants the Walker fortune, she'll show it." "And if she doesn't?" "Then I owe her an apology." "You owe her one now." Evelyn lifted her chin. "She gave up her home for a stranger." "She gave it up for her sister." Ethan's gaze didn't leave the glass. "That's what I don't understand. Why leave quietly, with nothing, for a man she doesn't know?" "Ask her." "Not yet." Evelyn sighed and shook her head. Outside, Emily sat with the marriage certificate in both hands, reading it slowly, as if the words might change. Then she folded it with care, slid it into her bag, and lifted her face to the sun with a small, tired smile. She didn't look like a woman who'd just married a fortune. She looked like a woman who'd just paid a debt. Ethan's jaw tightened. Emily Carter had married him. Now he intended to find out why.