Hunter glanced at her before turning his attention back to the road. “My family isn’t a part of my life.”
She’d remembered something in his file about a brother . . . no mother, and a father who was alive. The details on where everyone was weren’t something Sam had placed in the information given to Gabi.
“My brother won’t take the news well,” Gabi told him. “My mother will be livid.”
“They know what you do for a living, right?”
“They do. But having me fall prey won’t be expected. I’ll do my best to convince them I wanted this. They will know it’s temporary.”
“As long as they can be trusted to keep that information to themselves.”
“They will.”
He pulled into her drive and she stopped him before he could walk her to the door. “This is awkward enough,” she told him.
“All right. We’ll speak tomorrow?”
She nodded. “I’ll continue the house search, send you files on what I find.”
She opened the door.
“Sleep well, Gabi.”
A pleasantry sat on her lips, but she went with a parting better suited for the two of them. “Pull out in front of a bus for me.”
He laughed as she closed the door and made her way inside.
First thing the next morning, a bouquet of flowers arrived. The note said simply, The busses didn’t cooperate. I’ll try harder tomorrow.
Chapter Eight
Gabi spoke with Meg first. Her sister-in-law worked with Sam as well . . . she knew the details of their work, and if there was someone who could buffer the information for her brother, it was his wife.
“I signed a contract,” Gabi told her after they exchanged pleasantries and talked about the weather.
“What kind of contract?” Meg asked . . . then she barked, “No. You didn’t.”
“I did. We were married last week.”
“What? Why? Oh, my God, your brother’s going to shit.” Leave it to Meg to blurt out the truth.
“It’s just a contract, Meg. A year and a half. Val won’t have to worry about taking care of me. The money is huge.”
“Your brother doesn’t give a crap about the money. You don’t, either, so don’t even try and pass that off as the reason you did this.”
“Twenty-four million.”
“Oh . . .” Meg hesitated.
“And a house.”
“Really?”
Gabi was happy in her current home, but it sounded like Meg understood the bigger picture. “It’s a year and a half. Not a big deal.” There was no way Gabi was going to reveal any of the issues with insurance claims and offshore bank accounts.
“Who is it?”
“Who is what?”
Meg snorted into the phone. “The husband . . . you know, the guy you married?”
“Sorry. Hunter Blackwell. A friend of Blake’s, actually.” Well, maybe not a friend, but it sounded good and might ease some of the trouble Val was bound to make.
“I’d try and talk you out of it if you hadn’t already done it,” Meg said.
“Which is why I waited to call. I need to move on.”
“OK . . . moving on doesn’t mean getting married to a stranger. How about a date? Have you even been on one since . . .”
There was no reason for Meg to voice since when. They both understood the question.
“I don’t want to date. I don’t want that in my life, Meg. This is easier. People will think I’m normal and I can move on.”
“Beg to differ with ya, Gabi . . . but it’s perfectly normal for you to tell guys to bug off after what you’ve been through. But getting married instead of dating isn’t exactly a sound act.”
“There’s nothing remotely romantic about our relationship. It’s all business. Trust me.”
“I have little choice, don’t I?”
“It’s my life.”
Gabi heard Meg muffle the receiver of the phone. “Well, look who just walked in.”
“Val?”
“Yeah.”
Gabi closed her eyes. “OK. Wish me luck.”
“All the luck isn’t going to make this easy.”
Valentino Masini was a self-made man, owned his own island with an exclusive resort he built from nothing.
The sound of Val’s voice made the knot in her chest tighten. “The look on Margaret’s face tells me there is trouble, what is it, tesoro?”
“No trouble . . .” Not if you removed the facts. She slowly delivered the information she needed to.
I signed a contract.
The marriage is temporary.
Yes, we’ve already gotten married.
No, I’m not crazy.
“I know you’re not pleased, Val. Just try and understand I needed to do this.”
Her brother’s silence sliced through her.
“What is this man’s name?” Val’s question was cold.
“Hunter Blackwell.”
Her brother’s voice softened to tell her he loved her. Then he cut the conversation short.
Meg took up the receiver and reported that Val had opened a bottle of whiskey. “I’ll talk to him,” Meg said.
“I really am OK,” Gabi told her.
“We’re just worried.”
“I know. I’m sorry for that.”
They said their good-byes and Gabi sent Hunter a text.
My family has been notified.