A DEAL WITH MY BESTFRIEND’S HUSBAND— HARRINGTON HOLDINGS

Chapter4

Nathaniel.

My driver slid the Range Rover into a spot right upfront. He was out of his seat in an instant, circling the hood to pop my door open. Sucking my teeth, I stepped out onto the pavement and adjusted my cuffs, my eyes already locked on the entrance of Bennett’s Café. The security guard pulled the heavy glass door open the second I approached.

I stepped inside the modern space. The café was practically deserted, save for a brunette sitting by the window. The moment her eyes landed on me, her entire face lit up. I figured that was her—the wife my grandfather had handpicked.

I cut across the polished floor, mapping her features with a cold, analytical glance. She didn't exactly strike me as the submissive type who would quietly swallow an arranged marriage. Pushing the thought aside, I pulled out the metal chair opposite her and sat down. I just wanted to get this over with so I could get back to a real boardroom.

“Hi, Nathaniel,” she purred, intertwining her manicured fingers on the tabletop. “Oh my goodness, I’m so happy to finally see you.”

I raised a single eyebrow, my face remaining an unreadable mask. “Why?”

“Because we’re engaged, duh!” She flashed a massive diamond ring right in front of my face.

My brow furrowed, internally disgusted at her desperation. How the heck did she get a ring for herself and claim we are together?

“Engaged?”

She nodded eagerly, leaning across the table. “You know, I’ve had the biggest crush on you ever since I saw you at that Harrington Holdings charity gala. God, I searched for your name on every single social media platform, but you don’t even have an account. The only pictures I could find of you were strictly on the corporate PR pages.”

She took a quick, breathless beat before plowing forward. “You should have seen how ecstatic I was when I found out you actually had an interest in me, too. I seriously can't wait for us to get married, Nathaniel.”

I met her enthusiastic smile with a completely blank stare. A cold amusement flickered internally—the old man had clearly lied to her to make the pill easier to swallow. She thought this was a romance.

“I don’t have an interest in you,” I said, my voice dead and firm.

Her smile faltered, her chest hitching as she blinked in sudden shock.

“Look, I don’t have time to waste, so I’m going to make this incredibly fast.” I turned my wrist, glancing down at my watch to check the time before looking back up into her eyes. “We’re getting married in a few days. And I have strict rules you will follow.”

She swallowed hard, nodding rapidly. “Whatever you say—”

“You and I will share no personal relationship,” I cut her off cleanly, delivering the terms like a corporate mandate. “You will have your own wing in the penthouse, and you will stay there. Your only job is to play the part of the perfect, doting wife when the public or our families are watching. Do we understand each other?”

She didn't even hesitate. A grin crawled back onto her face as she nodded. “Whatever you order is completely fine by me.”

I pushed back my chair and stood up. I was entirely done with this pathetic excuse for a date.

Caroline scrambled to her feet, her eyes wide with surprise. “Wait, are we done talking?”

I gave her a single, dismissive nod and turned on my heel, walking toward the exit. She was shouting something after me, but I blocked the pitch of her voice out completely. My brain was already calculating the logistics of the next infrastructure contract I needed to sign for the company.

My driver brought the Range Rover to a halt right in front of me. Before he could even unbuckle to open my door, I wrenched it open myself, slid into the leather backseat, and slammed it shut. I immediately snapped up my iPad to start tearing through my unread emails.

As I shifted, my hand brushed against the velvet box in my pocket. Dammit. I forgot to give her my mother’s gift.

“Ray. Give this to the lady inside,” I ordered, thrusting the box toward the front seat.

Ray took it with a curt nod and jogged back into the café. He returned a minute later, slid behind the wheel, and roared the engine to life.

The reality of being a married man was a bizarre concept, but if it fueled my professional drive and made Grandfather happy, I could stomach it. As long as she stayed in her designated wing, kept her hands off my things, and played by the rules, we wouldn’t have a problem.

Suddenly, my phone vibrated in my palm. It was Grayson. I ignored the first three rings, knowing exactly what kind of hell he was trying to raise, but his persistence finally snapped my patience. I answered, shoving the phone to my ear.

“What the f**k, Nath?!” Grayson’s voice boomed through the speaker, vibrating with raw fury. “You actually agreed to marry some random girl you know absolutely nothing about?!”

I leaned my head back against the headrest, completely unfazed by his explosion. “Grandfather would really appreciate you calling his choice of bride a random girl.”

“Oh, f**k him!” Grayson sneered.

“Yeah. Goodbye,” I said flatly, hanging up before flipping the phone into flight mode. I rubbed the bridge of my nose. “Ray, take me to the courts.”

“Yes, Sir,” Ray responded, cutting the wheel toward the lower end of the city.

Grayson was cut from a completely different cloth than the rest of us. He was fiercely audacious, refusing to let anyone dictate his life. He made his own choices, good or bad, and didn't give a single s**t about the fallout.

I envied that sometimes. In the corporate world, I commanded absolute authority. No one dared to question how I ran my business.

But when it came to my personal life, I was trapped in a relentless loop of wanting to see that rare, proud smile on Grandfather’s face. His decisions weren't always in my best interest, but they were always within my capability. Besides, with a life entirely consumed by work, a transactional marriage didn't really change much.

Ray pulled up to the local basketball courts on the edge of the neighborhood. This was a gritty, public spot where guys from all over the area came to run pick-up games. Nobody in my family except Grayson knew I came here to blow off steam. If Grandfather ever found out I was rubbing shoulders with regular guys on asphalt courts, he’d burn the place down.

I stripped out of my tailored suit in the back of the SUV and threw on a mesh jersey and shorts. The moment my sneakers hit the concrete court, the suffocating pressure of the Harrington name began to lift. A familiar, genuine spark of happiness flooded my chest—the kind of pure freedom I only ever felt when a basketball was in my hands.