The Arrangement

Chapter 12

Christian Cartwright

I wake up with the worst headache of my life. But still I force myself to get dressed for work and leave the warm penthouse to head to work. When I make it to the office, my dad is sitting on the couch waiting for me.

"This is a surprise." I say, taking a seat in the chair across from him.

"Jesus, Christian." He says, shaking his head. "You smell."

"I didn't have time to shower this morning. I was running late."

"Well you smell like you bathed in alochol last night."

I was about to say something back but thought better of it. I smile. "What can I help you with this morning, father?"

He put his hands on his knees. "I just wanted to let you know I arranged a dinner for you with Mr. Garden and his wife."

Mr. Garden was the owner of a hotel in Soho that we were trying to buy and rebrand and we had been in discussions with him for over a year. And he had been getting more and more on board with the idea recently.

"Oh, he bit?"

"Not a full bite, but he's more interested now. So be sure to do your best work tonight."

"I always do my best work."

"We will see about that." He stands up to go. "Oh and bring AnnaLeigh. Because Garden is bringing his wife. Jessica, I think her name is."

AnnaLeigh. More of last night came back to me. How I had yelled at her, grabbed her...great. I'm sure she would be eager to want to help me make a good impression.

"You understand?" My dad looked at me expectantly. It was clear he wasn't going to leave until I confirmed I would do it.

"I understand, yeah." This was going to be interesting.

AnnaLeigh

I have just gotten off the phone with Mr. Cartwright about the very important dinner with potential business associates and I was expected to go. He said my only job would be to use my charm to make the evening as entertaining as possible for the couple joining us. But the idea of being anywhere with Christian, of having to pretend to be in love, was simply preposterous to me. Yet I think of my dad and how he needs the treatment, and this is my only option.

And as hard as it was to admit, I was kind of grateful Christian had been so drunk. Which had prevented me from giving him any explanation about my dad so I had not violated the contract. I shook my head at myself. How could I thought telling him was a good idea?

I looked through my closet for my stylish outfit and found an emerald colored silk jumpsuit with a tie around the waist. I hung it up on a hook on the wall. While I ran a brush through my hair, surprised at how long it had gotten. Too long. I decided I needed a change. And picked up the phone to schedule a sudden hair appointment.

When I left the salon two hours later my hair was two inches shorter and done in long layers. It was just the change I had been wanting for tonight. Smiling to myself I go to get myself ready for my dinner with my husband. This should be interesting!

"Wow. You look incredible." The doorman says as I walk through the door he is holding open. It was seven forty five and I was finally ready to head downtown. My hair splashed over my shoulders in soft waves and I had made an effort with my make-up as well. And the jumpsuit fit me like a glove. The silk clung to all my curves and the small of my waist was on display thanks to the cinched tie and my neckline showed off just enough cleavage.

"Thank you." I say and I meant it. It was nice to have a vote of confidence before walking into dinner with the man who had verbally accosted me last night.

The doorman waved down a cab and I got in, watching all the bright lights pass me by. When I arrived at the restaurant I climbed out of the cab and walked up the hostess.

"Christian Cartwright's table." I say.

"This way." The hostess says and I follow her.

When I got to the table I saw I was the last one to arrive. Christian looked handsome in his fancy suit. And across the table from him was an attractive man with salt and pepper hair. His wife sits beside him and looks like a model. She was all elegant angles and soft features. She wore a peach dress with a plunging neckline. When they saw me, each of the men stood up, Christain put an arm around my wais and kisses my cheek playing the husband role wel. I flinhed, but no one noticed.

"Hi babe." He says.

"Hi." I say, smiling.

"James Graden." The man across from Christain says, holding his hand out.

"Nice to meet you." I say and we shake hands. His covers mine, it felt warm like I could trust him.

And then I walked around the table to Mrs. Graden, who also offers her hand to me. But her movements were slower and we didnt shake so muc as hold each others hand for a moment.

"Why hello." She says and I hang on her words. Everything about her seems like she just stepped out of a magazine.

I sit down and the waiter immediately fills my glass with white wine. I take a sip, knowing I would need it.

"So shall we talk shop? I know you are looking to find a new property owner and our rebranding would do nothing but lift up your family's legacy - " Christain starts, but gets interupted.

"Stop Christain. We havent even odered appetizers yet. Lets hold off on the business talk. For the sake of the beautiful ladies."

"Absolutely." Christain adjusts without showing any annoyance. I was impressed. "Tell me how was Milan?"

"Ooh, it was divine." Mrs. Graden says. "The fashion, the vino, all of it. Divine." I had never heard anyone talk like her before, not in real life. It was like she knew all eyes were on her and that was what gave her the momentum to keep goiong.

"It was wonderful." Mr. Graden chimes in. "We were there for - what, fifteen days?" Couldn't get enough. The two of you should drop by."

"We will add it to the list?" Christain asks, directing the question at me.

"Oh, yes." I say, keeping the surprise out of my voice. "Defiently. Added to the list." I felt my cheeks burning. Maybe it was from the wine or maybe it was the sudden attention. Or maybe it is the lie I was telling.

"Excuse me." I say and push back my chair so I could stand. Before I can see their reactions, I head to the bathroom. Once there I look at myself in the mirror and try to recognize the girl I knew before all of this. I wasnt sure I could see her anymore. I took a few breaths and exit the restrom, only to feel a hand grab my shoulder.

"Hey." a voice says and I tun to find Christain. "Look," He starts. "I know last night was pretty bad, I was drunk. And I said some stuff I wish I wouldn't have said."

He is looking down ike he is not used to apolgizing."But this dinner is really important. So will you please just do this for me. Then whatever you need to say to me, you can do it after we leave, okay?"

I was stunned. Here I was thinking Christain only cared about himself but it was clear he cared about his dads company, too. That didn't mean I had completely forgiven him but I wouldn't do anything to hurt Mr. Cartwright.

"Okay." I say softly and head back to the table. When we sat back down, Mr. and Mrs. Graden were staring into each others yes. It wasn't until Christain cleared his thoart that they realized we were back.

"Ah, welcome." Mr. Graden says. "I hope you dont mind, we ordered antipasti."

"Perfect." Christain says.

"Great." I echo.

Mr. Graden clasps his hands together. "So Christain, tell me about this woman who has swept you off your feet. It's nice to see you finally settle down."

Christain looks at me. "Well I met AnnaLeigh and we...instantly..."

I saw he was drowning. I knew he knew nothing about me.

"He always gets choked up telling this story." I say, jumping in and the Gradens eye shift to me. "We met in this coffee shop in the city, actually." I look at Christain and he smiles at me gratefully. So I continue on.

"I had just left an interview and needed a pick me up and Christain was having a bad day too. We grabbed each others orders by mistake and...started talking. And the rest, it all fell into place."

Mrs. Graden clapps her hands together. "So beautiful."

"And what were you interviewing for?" Mr. Graden asks.

"A designer's position. At Fairfax."

"I know Fairfax. Interior Design?" He looks dumbfounded. And my poor husband did too.

"Yes." I say. "My degree is in that."

"I see. And where did you get your degree?"

"At the New York School of Interior Design."

"You studied design there?" Mr. Graden asks, not even trying to hide his surprise. He looks from me to Christain, who was trying to hide his own shock.

"I was really fortunate. It was a wonderful exerience." I say honestly.

"You, sir." Mr. Graden says, turning to Christain, "Have found yourself a treasure of a wife."

Christains eyes are upon me and I cant read his expression anymore. But when he speaks, for the first time in perhaps the entire time I had known him, his words sounded genuine. He says slowly and simply, "It appears so."