Luke
Precious: You're not coming to pick me up?
Luke groaned in frustration.
Read the last message, Precious!
Luke: Sorry, babe. I cannot go pick you up. But as I said before, I can order an Uber for you.
Precious: How would your parents view that?!
Luke: I have already told you. We need to talk first so they don't come home while you are on your way over. It makes sense, right?
A few minutes passed as Luke stripped in his bathroom and turned on the hot water. He had to shower, and he didn't have time for Precious's brand of crazy. If he wasn't in such a hurry, he'd call the whole thing off and go out and find himself another girl to marry. But his father was coming back tonight, and he wanted him to assume that they'd been dating a respectable length of time before he proposed to her. Luckily, his father had spent the previous two months down at their Bahamian summer house, so he wasn't aware that Precious and Luke had just met seven days earlier. It can't possibly make that much of a difference in the long run, anyway. They were getting divorced or possibly even getting an annulment the second they got the cash in his pockets. And then she'd be out of his life forever with her bank account fattened in gratitude for getting him out of a bind.
That was the plan, at least. They just had to work out the specifics and have a prenup drawn up because there was no flipping way Luke was getting married without having one.
His phone flashed a text message.
Precious: Okay. But you're coming home with me.
Luke: Okay. Be there soon. Don't be late. There are things to discuss.
Precious: Okay. Love you.
Luke raised an eyebrow.
She was batshit crazy.
Not bothering with a response, Luke put the phone down on the shiny black counter, and stepped into the shower and allowed the hot water to pour over his back. Ten minutes had passed when he got up to retrieve the towel and started drying his face when a pair of hands descended on his abs. Backing away frantically, he tore the towel from blocking his vision and saw Stacy in a tight black dress that gave him not a lot to think about. Her hair was pulled back into a sophisticated bun at the nape of her neck, and her makeup had covered up every single one of the pimples on her face so she looked like a grimy porcelain doll. Her fake eyelashes fluttered when she stroked her hands up and down his naked chest.
"What are you doing here?" Luke growled.
"You said I was to come over."
Wrapping the towel around his waist, Luke considered barking at her for sneaking into his room but decided against it. From what little he knew about her, he was going to assume she wasn’t known for her boundaries, and he wouldn’t do anything but waste his breath, anyway.
“You’re right. Let me get dressed. Then we’ll talk.”
Her fingers found the knot in his towel and tugged, stripping him bare before her.
"Would you like me to help?" She smiled.
"Maybe later. "We have to rush." Luke entered his closet and retrieved a pair of black briefs, then drew them up his legs before reaching for the first shirt he could find and shoving his arms into the sleeves. It ended up being a black button-down shirt. He still wore some slacks, though, as she rested against the counter in the bathroom and said, "So I've been thinking about our agreement…."
Luke c****d an eyebrow. "And?"
"And I believe we need to negotiate salary."
Of course, she would.
I'm with you. I think the entire situation will only take three months at most. I'll have the lawyer put conditions on the prenup for every month that we're together so that it stays even if it ends up being longer than we expect, but I figure twenty thousand a month sounds really fair.
Her lips poached out in a pout as she considered his offer. "I'm afraid I won't be signing any prenups. I think that we should split things fifty-fifty. After all, you need me."
Nostrils flaring, Luke cinched his belt tight as he shut his eyes.
When he was done, he said, "I think that's hardly fair and that you should consider my first offer because I won't be bargaining."
She trailed her fingers along the front of his button-up shirt, starting at the neck, then toying with the brass of his belt buckle. “I can make it worth your while.”
Grabbing her wrist, Luke wrenched it away. “No.”
“Then I’ll walk,” she threatened.
Luke scanned her face in search of a hint that she was bluffing. Unfortunately, he didn’t see it.
"Walk away with sixty thousand dollars, at least. Are you out of your mind to blow that kind of money?"
"I can walk away with a lot more than sixty thousand dollars, Luke. I know all about the Oden fortune. Sixty thousand dollars is chump change compared to what you have coming to you. And if I'm going to help you, then I think I deserve a fair share."
A headache of biblical proportions started thudding across Luke's left eyebrow, and he rubbed at it crossly before answering Precious's astronomical request.
"You can't be serious."
"I'm dead serious. You need me. And I need your money. Either I get half your inheritance, or we table divorce right now."
Luke laughed. "That's your compromise? A whole marriage sham? Are you serious at the moment?"
"Oh, come on. It's not that unbelievable, is it? I've already told you I don't mind having an open marriage. Do whatever you want."
"And what's in it for you?"
"I get a shiny, black credit card, and you get to pay the bill. Simple."
"You greedy little…." Luke's words dried up as he bit his tongue. He had more time to work this s**t out before he cut a deal with the damn devil, wearing a little black dress.
"Little what, Luke?" Her gaze narrowed into slits, reminding him of a snake, which was exactly what she was.
"Nothing," Luke snarled. "I won't play your game." Take the initial offer. Or leave. Those are your options. I won't be pushed around by my father, and I sure as hell won't be pushed around by a skank in a black dress, either. But decide quick. I don't have all night."
Her eyes widened in surprise, clearly shocked that he hadn’t taken her up on her offer and that he refused to budge.
“You’re serious?” she asked, dumbfounded. “You’d honestly prefer to show up without a fiancée than agree to my compromise?”
“I’d hardly call it a compromise.”
“Then it’s your loss. Good luck finding someone to play your little fiancée in the next”—she checked the time on her cell—fifteen minutes. Bye, Luke.”
"Bye, Precious," Luke yelled as she stormed from his room, slamming the door shut.
Sinking back onto his bed, Luke rubbed his hands through his hair before pulling at the roots in aggravation.
He was so wrecked.