Despite his words, he didn’t seem surprised at all, not when he answered the phone, not even when she’d answered his greeting with a five-figure dollar amount. A chill ran down Pru’s back. It had been easy to get Max on the phone. Easier than she’d thought it would be. The front desk at the Lyon had put her right through as soon as she gave them her name, and Max had picked up on the first ring, as if he’d been expecting her call.
“What changed?” he asked, his voice laced with lazy amusement.
“My brother got into BIT,” Pru answered through gritted teeth.
Max whistled. “My alma mater! Nice! I think I remember maybe going to one or two classes while I was there.”
Yet, he had graduated with a degree, Which he never even bothered to use, Pru thought, shaking her head. Apparently, if your family donated enough money to your college, it was enough to earn even the most shiftless student the degree of his choice.
“Do we have a deal or what?” Pru asked.
It occurred to her then that Max could simply be toying with her from the other side of the phone now. He might have no intention of honoring his brother’s terms. Or even more likely, he could have found someone way more appropriate to fulfill them.
Pru’s shoulders tightened at the thought of Max rescinding his original offer.
“Look, if you’ve already found someone else, just let me know now,” she told Max. “This might be fun and games for you. But it’s my brother’s future we’re talking about, so if you’re not serious—”
“Oh, I’m serious, Prudence,” he said, his voice suddenly a lot darker on the other side of the phone. “You have no idea.”
Another chill ran down Prudence’s back. Again, she got the sense that there was more to Max than what he was showing the world. Something lurking inside him. Something that would come up and bite her if she weren’t careful.
But she had to do this. For her brother. She’d do whatever it took to make his dreams come true.
So she pressed forward and pretended to be much braver than she actually felt. “If you’re really serious, stop toying with me. Do we have a deal or what?”
A long moment of silence passed. “Yes, Pru, we have a deal.”
She swallowed, barely able to believe that he was still open to marrying her, or that she was really going to go along with his scheme. “Okay, then, I guess I should ask when and where and how long?”
She could practically feel Max smiling through the phone. Smiling like a wolf.
When? Pretty soon as it turned out. Saturday to be exact, just six days before Max Benton’s thirty-fifth birthday. Apparently that was how long Max’s non-Benton family lawyers needed to produce the kind of prenup they were going to need for such an unorthodox arrangement. One that allowed them both to get a quickie divorce under already-agreed-upon terms as soon as his trust fund check cleared the bank.
Pru was initially happy for the short reprieve. But the days seemed to fly by in a haze of dread that didn’t allow her to get in much quality study time. Before she was nearly ready, the day of her wedding had arrived, casting an ominous shadow over everything she did from the moment she woke up.
At least she didn’t have to figure out what to do with Jakey while she was dealing with Max. The morning before their wedding, Pru drove her brother to Henderson for the Focus Leadership Camp. Jakey had been attending the two-week program dedicated to teaching underprivileged youth leadership skills since the age of thirteen, and he’d been looking forward to volunteering as a counselor all summer.
However, as they drove to Henderson, he fiddled with the passenger-door lock on Pru’s tiny hatchback. “Maybe I should stay in Vegas,” he said. “Try to get a job.”
“No,” Pru answered before the sentence was fully out of his mouth. Even if Jakey hadn’t been looking forward to this all summer, she didn’t want him anywhere near Vegas tonight.
After a bunch of back-and-forth, Pru shut down all of Jakey’s arguments by simply dropping him off at his destination. She got his duffel out of the back and just about tossed it at him, then gave him a quick hug and sped off before he could protest any further.
She got home in record time, ate lunch and tried to use the hours before her wedding event to study. But she gave up on that around dinnertime.
How was she supposed to think about anything else, other than the fact that she would soon be marrying Max Benton? Tonight. For money.
Her stomach churned and Pru decided against warming up the takeout she and Jake had ordered the previous night. The only thing worse than marrying Max Benton would be throwing up in the middle of the ceremony.
A knock sounded on the door about an hour before she’d planned to leave to meet up with Max at the Benton.
She frowned. The complex was gated and no one was supposed to be able to get in unless she buzzed them through.
But sure enough, there was a large Latino man in her doorway. One she recognized as Cole’s driver.
“Tomas?” she said, opening the door. “What are you doing here?”
He gave her an apologetic smile. “Sorry to bother you. Mr. Max must not have told you I was coming.”
Actually, she hadn’t heard from Mr. Max, other than an email informing her they’d be getting married at the Benton at the rather late hour of 10:00 p.m. The lack of communication had been just one of the reasons she’d been so jumpy over the past few days, and she was beginning to wonder if he’d be a no-show since she couldn’t be sure if he was even in town.
This could all be some kind of elaborate joke on his part, she’d thought a few times over the course of the past few gloomy days. An act of revenge for playing him for a fool when she’d delivered his brother’s envelope. Pru had sent her brother to school with rich kids long enough to know they could be cruel, especially to those who didn’t have the resources to defend themselves.
But if Tomas was any indication, Max was not only in town, but availing himself of Cole’s driver.
“He shouldn’t have bothered you,” Pru said, embarrassed to have someone she knew and liked entangled in all of this. “I could have driven myself.”
“No bother at all,” Tomas answered. “Besides, he wanted to make sure you got your wedding outfit in time to change before we got to the Benton.”
He held up a dress bag.
And Pru’s heart sank, knowing on instinct that the wedding dress Max had chosen for her was probably nothing like the simple white crochet dress she’d been planning to wear for their farce of a wedding.
Fifteen minutes later, she stared at herself in the mirror, completely aghast. Apparently, Max liked vintage, too. In fact, he had sent over one of the Benton Revue’s original showgirl costumes, a scoop-neck top and bottom, covered in silver trim, all held together by a netted stocking.
It came with a huge white feather headdress and matching white bustle, which thankfully fanned over and completely covered her backside. And the rhinestones and silver trimming shone so bright, the costume might well have been mistaken for white. But other than that, it looked nothing remotely like a wedding dress.
After a full moment of staring at her image in horror, she decided to just throw a long cardigan over the ostentatious number and leave before she could think too hard about what she was doing. She comforted herself with the fact that the old-timey costumes didn’t expose nearly as