Signed, Sealed, Seduced?

I Stared At

TIFFANY

I stared at the black business card on Richard Ashford’s coffee table as though it had personally offended me.

“DAMIAN ASHFORD.”

The name was printed in elegant silver letters. I had never met the man, yet somehow I already disliked him. Maybe it was because his grandfather had just casually suggested that I marry him as though marriage were a business merger.

Maybe it was because Richard had offered to erase every debt Bennett Interiors owed, protect our employees, and give us exclusive Ashford contracts for two years, or maybe it was because the entire situation felt too perfect, and perfect deals always came with ugly consequences.

I picked up the card.

“Just so we’re clear,” I said, looking at Richard, “this changes nothing.”

His smile widened. “I never said it did.”

“I’m not marrying your grandson.”

“You’ve mentioned that.”

“Twice.”

“Three times.”

I narrowed my eyes.

He chuckled.

My father cleared his throat beside me. “Perhaps we should discuss this at home.”

I turned toward him. “Discuss what? Whether I should sell two years of my life because our company is struggling?”

His expression tightened. “That’s not what I meant.”

“It certainly sounds like it.” I replied

Richard’s playful expression softened. “Tiffany, I am not asking you to sacrifice yourself.”

“It feels like you are.”

“I’m asking you to consider an arrangement that could benefit both families.”

I shook my head. “Marriage shouldn’t be an arrangement.”

Richard studied me for a moment. “You’re right.”

That answer caught me off guard.

He leaned back in his chair. “But sometimes life puts two people in circumstances neither of them would have chosen.”

Something about the way he said it made my stomach twist. I glanced down at the business card again.

“I still don’t understand why me.” I wondered out loud.

Richard was silent for a moment. Then he said quietly, “Because I believe you are exactly the kind of woman my grandson needs.”

I almost laughed. “That sounds like a very expensive matchmaking service.”

He laughed.

My father didn’t. “Richard,” Dad said carefully, “you know Damian.”

“Unfortunately.”

Richard sighed dramatically. “He’s stubborn.”

I raised an eyebrow.

“Arrogant.” He continued

“Wonderful.” I muttered

“Emotionally constipated.” Richard said

I almost choked on my coffee.

Richard smiled proudly. “And extremely difficult.”

“Sounds delightful.” I said as I forced a smile

“He is.”

My father rubbed his forehead. “Richard…”

“I’m simply being honest.” Richard said with a smile

I stood and picked up my portfolio. “Thank you for the offer.”

Richard nodded.

“But my answer is no.”

“I know.”

“And it will remain no.”

“We’ll see.” He said

I hated those words.

Especially when they were spoken with that much confidence. My father and I left the office a few minutes later, the moment the elevator doors closed, I turned toward him.

“You’re not actually considering this.”

He stared straight ahead. “Tiffany…”

“No.”

“I didn’t say anything.”

“You didn’t have to.”

The elevator continued downward.

My father sighed. “They could save the company.”

I closed my eyes. “I know.”

“They could save everyone’s jobs.”

“I know.”

“They could give you opportunities you’ve spent years trying to get.”

“I know, Dad.” My voice cracked slightly. “That’s why I hate this.”

He finally looked at me. “I would never force you.”

I swallowed. “I know.”

The elevator doors opened, and we stepped into the lobby. People moved around us, completely unaware that my entire future had just been turned into a business proposition.

Outside, Manhattan was bright and busy, cars honked, people hurried along the sidewalks, everything continued as normal, but nothing felt normal to me anymore. I climbed into Dad’s car and stared through the window as the Ashford building disappeared behind us.

For two years, that was what Richard had asked, two years married to a complete stranger, then divorce, it sounded simple. Except there was one problem, I had already spent a night with a stranger, and somehow, the thought of marrying another one felt completely different. My phone vibrated, it was Molly.

“Where are you???”

I sighed.

I typed back. “On my way home.”

Another message arrived almost immediately. “Did you get the investment?”

I stared at the screen. How exactly was I supposed to explain this? “Kind of.”

Three dots appeared, then they disappeared, then they appeared again. “What does KIND OF mean?”

I smiled despite myself. “I’ll tell you when I get home.”

Her reply came instantly. “If you murdered someone, hide the body before I arrive.”

I laughed.

For the first time since leaving Richard’s office, some of the tension in my chest loosened. I put my phone away, then my eyes landed on the black business card still resting in my hand.

Damian Ashford.

I turned it over, a phone number was printed on the back, I stared at it for several seconds, then I shoved the card into my purse. I wasn’t calling him, absolutely not. I didn’t care how rich he was, I didn’t care how powerful his family was, and I definitely didn’t care how attractive he might be.

He could be the most handsome man in Manhattan, and I still wasn’t marrying him.