glimmer of hope. I can’t even believe she came up with this. It’s impressive. Now, we just need a game plan because we don’t have much time before I have to walk down the aisle.
I clear my throat and hold out my hands, palms up, totally at Blaire’s mercy to figure out this mess that is my life. “How do we proceed?”
Chapter 3
BLAIRE
Wanted: one bride for marriage to billionaire heir at New Year’s Eve wedding. Submit resume and photo to [email protected]
Qualified candidates must:
Be Ivy League educated
Come from a family free of any major scandal
Reside in the greater New York City area and or be willing to relocate immediately
Be amenable to starting a family immediately
Be prepared to attend any and all events as requested and required
Any candidates not meeting these requirements will not be considered. Please attach a photo, resume, a list of any and all family and relatives including dates of birth, as well as a 500-word essay describing why you think you would be a good match.
I stare down at my notebook at the draft of the “job listing” Archimedes and I just wrote up and cringe.
This is so wrong.
The words on the page make my heart hurt. This isn’t any way to find someone to spend your life with. This was a terrible idea. Guilt at having been the one who suggested it in the first place creeps in. I’m the one who told him to treat this with detachment. To look at it like a business deal that he can negotiate and close. It’s all so wrong.
I chance a glance in Archie’s direction. He’s barely moved in his chair over the last hour. Leaned back, his hands steepled under his chin, a furrowed brow, eyes focused somewhere out the window. It seems to be his new normal look, at least since this trust announcement.
It’s not like him to appear so stressed…or so unhappy. Archie may be a lot of things, including demanding, but he’s generally pretty positive and upbeat. All of this is starting to get to him, and I can’t really say I blame him. If I had to rush into a marriage with someone I didn’t love just to appease my overbearing family, I’d be miserable and stressed, too.
I tap my pen against my notepad.
Should I say anything?
He was receptive to my earlier comments about Mirabella and the other exes, but there may be a line I cross that I can’t come back from, one that would cost me this job.
I chew on my lip and fiddle with my pen, considering my options. Ignore the nagging voice in the back of my head or let it speak and face the consequences? The ache in my chest seems to be making the decision for me.
I have to say something.
“Um, Mister Warren?”
He jerks in his seat, and his head turns until his eyes meet mine. “I’m sorry. Did you say something?”
“Well,” I shift in my chair and clear my throat, “I’m just wondering if you’re sure this is all you want to me to put in the ad?”
I’ve read it back to him twice, and both times, he told me it was “sufficient.” But I have a difficult time believing that given the way he’s acting. And based on human nature.
Humans need more than mere compatibility. Matches that last forever aren’t made based on a checklist like this.
Where’s the passion? Where’s the connection? Where’s the love?
“Yes,” he nods slowly, “that should check off the boxes of everything I need.”
Everything he needs? He can’t be serious.
I look over the list again and see all the bullet points that should be there but aren’t. “But, sir—”
“Jesus, stop calling me sir.” He scrubs a hand over his face. “Archie, please.”
“Mister Warren, I’m not sure I’m comfortable calling you by your first name.”
He chuckles and holds up his hands. “You’re helping me pick a wife. I think that puts us on a first-name basis.”
A smile pulls at my lips. “I guess you’re right.”
“And I hope you don’t mind if I call you Blaire.”
“No, sir…I mean Archie. Not at all.”
He flashes me a genuine smile, possibly the first real one I’ve seen from him in days. “I really appreciate your help with this, you know. I understand it’s not exactly in your job description.”
I chuckle and shake my head. “No, it’s not, and neither is saying things that should probably get me fired.”
He raises a dark eyebrow at me. “What do you need to say that you think is going to get