My mind blanks. Like literally empties of all thought. “Uh… come again?” I finally manage to croak out.
The barest sliver of delight crosses his face at my discomfort. “I’m buying her father’s company, Montague Media, and he insists on a family alliance for the deal to go through.”
What the hell? “Dad, this isn’t the Middle Ages. You can’t barter me for some business deal.”
“Then you’re cut off,” he says with a little too much glee. “If you can’t hold your weight in this family, you don’t deserve any of my money.”
I stand, my chair overturning in my haste. “Whoa, whoa, hold on. Let’s-” I rack my brain, trying to come up with some alternative. “Let’s figure something else out. I’ll get a job here in the company.”
“No.”
“I’ll work with Archer. He has too much on his plate anyway.”
“Your brother is doing fine on his own. He’s the CFO for God’s sake. He doesn’t need your help.”
“Send me over to help Connor. The Philippines project is too big for just him.”
“He doesn’t need you either. He’s proving himself more and more every day. Unlike you.”
I ignore his jab, searching for some other way out of this. He can’t be serious, right? Marrying me off to the highest bidder? It’s archaic. “What does Montague Media even have that you need?”
He leans back in his seat, pleased to see me scrambling, loving having me by the balls. “It doesn’t matter why I need it. What matters is you agree to this.”
“Why me? Archer or Connor would make way better husbands. You’ve told me time and again I’m not good for anything.” The familiar pang that usually comes along with that statement is absent, my brain too focused on finding a way out of this for my heart to care.
“You’re good enough for this. Greg Montague wants the connections the Bishop name can give him through his daughter.”
“So invite him to be a member of one of your billionaire clubs. I don’t see why I’m being roped into this.”
He purses his lips, ignoring my suggestions.
“Put him on the board of the company. Make him a VP of something made up. That should satisfy him.”
The vein in his forehead pulses intensely. Ah, I knew it would happen eventually. “Once I acquire Montague Media, he’ll no longer have anything to do with it. He just doesn’t know it yet.”
“So, what, he thinks it’s just a merger? That he’ll still be head of that part of the company? And then you’ll dump him and I’ll be stuck with him as a father-in-law?”
He’s silent as he stares at me, folding his hands over his stomach as he leans even further back in his leather chair.
“That’s not your problem, though, is it? Especially if Serena’s my wife.” He actually might have to come in contact with the Montagues if it was Archer or Connor marrying her, but not me. Dad has little to no reason to see me under normal circumstances.
“This is the way I’ve decided you can best help the company. Marry Serena or move out of the apartment I pay for and cut up your credit cards.”
Where the hell would I go? The square footage alone of my place at Bishop Plaza would make most New Yorkers weep with envy. And the limit on those credit cards…
“You’d seriously cut me off? Your own son?”
“I’ve got two others. And they’ve made me a hell of a lot more proud than you ever have.”
I wince, despite my earlier determination not to let him see how he affects me. Why bother competing, though, when Archer has always done everything better? And now apparently my younger brother has surpassed me too.
“I’ll just stay at Connor’s place while he’s overseas. He’ll spot me any money I need.”
“I’ll make both of your brothers aware that if they give so much as one penny to you, they’ll be cut off too.”
There’s a hardness in his face implying this is no idle threat. He means it.
“What’s your problem with me? Do you really hate me that much?” The question slips out unwittingly.
“Hate implies too strong of an emotion,” he replies easily.
I stare at him for a moment then turn around to right my chair, sitting down heavily in it. “Fine. Whatever,” I shrug. “I’ll marry her.” Serena Montague. The Ice Queen of Redmond Prep. What the hell has she even been up to in the last ten years? “But don’t expect me to be some model husband.”
“Oh, you will be. I want wholesome from you. This girl has turned you around. You’re now a one woman man.”
I hold back a hysterical burble of laughter. “That’s how you’ll spin it? She’s reformed me?”
“Yes. And you’re going to be part of the wedding planning. The Manhattan Herald will feature you all over town looking at venues, tasting cakes, picking out flowers. You can’t wait to marry the love of your life,” he points at me again viciously. “Give us some positive press for a change. Everyone loves a love story.”
“Do you seriously think my acting skills are up to this?”
“Go take a class then.” He shuffles some papers in front of him that have absolutely no business being shuffled, a sure sign he’s done with this conversation. “First meeting with the wedding planner and the Montagues is tomorrow morning at nine in the boardroom. You’ll be there.”
He already hired a wedding planner? Before I even agreed? Am I that predictable?
“Yes, sir,” I salute him sarcastically.
He grimaces but otherwise ignores me. “Go get the details from Vivian.”
I make my way out, glancing at the incomparable New York City skyline. He has an even better view here than my apartment does.
“Gabriel,” he barks when he notices me dawdling.
I pick up my feet and stop at Vivian’s desk outside his office, letting the heavy door slam shut behind me, her face filled with sympathy.
“I’m guessing you know then.”
“Who do you think scheduled the meeting tomorrow?”
I nod, jamming my hands in my pockets.
“Oh, sweetie, it’s not as bad as all that. She seems like a sweet girl.”
I resist the urge to roll my eyes at her. Vivian’s never been anything but nice to me and my brothers.
“You want him to set you up with someone next?” I ask, sidestepping her comment about Serena.
“If it means I stay rich,” she laughs, filled with such good humor I can’t help but laugh along with her.
She's right. I get to keep my lifestyle. Money that, if I’m being honest with myself, I have absolutely no claim to. I’ve never worked a day in my life. I offered to help with the company after graduating from college, but Dad never took me up on it.
And all I have to do is marry some girl. It’s not like I planned on marrying anyone else. I mean, someday maybe, but not anytime soon.
I could get divorced eventually… right? Or is this a lifetime commitment?
I shake my head.
One day at a time.
“Whiskey, neat.”
The bartender sets a cheap glass in front of me, leagues away from the Waterford Crystal set and Glenfiddich back at my place. But I don’t want to be home tonight, alone with my thoughts. I’d tried it for a couple of hours and finally gave up. Tonight’s my last night of freedom until I become… engaged.