Imperfect Match (Elixir Bachelor Billionaires #1)

“What can I say? I learned how to bend the rules from you, future husband.”

The word husband rolls off her lips and hits me in the chest like a Cupid’s arrow. I can’t help but smile as I lean forward and her eyes widen.

“Good, but it’s us against the world, future wife. Let’s not forget that.” My nose brushes against hers for a fraction before I pull back, the tiny contact registering in every cell of my body. “Now tell me how we can drop the word ‘future’ from our titles.” I nod toward the paper.

She clears her throat and sits straight. “So, first, I’d like to leave at six every evening.”

I return to my seat as she raises a second finger.

“And I’d like to not come to work any time before ten. From now on, I’ll only work forty hours a week, as written in my contract. I’ll also not work on the weekends, and definitely not on holidays. Do you agree?”

“Why don’t I hear you out completely before I comment?” I fold my hands together, pressing my fingers against my lips.

“I need an hour lunch break, uninterrupted, and not one where I’m chewing and taking notes for your next meeting while sitting on that couch.”

“That only happened once or twice.”

“Twenty times in the last six months!” She throws up her hands, only bringing them down when I nod.

“You also can’t ruin my plans with my friends because, just as I’m leaving, you remember something else for me to do. I won’t leave movies in the middle just because you had an amazing idea and would like to get started right that second. I won’t eat dinners in the office because you want to work late. I won’t consult with any of your home staff. You have an excellent housekeeper for that. Lastly, I would like you to arrange for me and my friends to meet Minnie King, the Dreamcatcher. We’re all big fans of her music, and I know you’re close to the Kings.” She finally takes a deep breath and looks at me. “I’m done. So, do you agree with everything?”

“Not at all. I’m not trading a fake wife for a lousy assistant. You’ll do everything exactly as you do today. But I’ll see what I can do for the last request.”

When she sits there looking smug, I lean back in my chair. “You knew I wasn’t going to agree to anything, right?”

“But it was so worth trying.”

My emotions are in a much calmer place when I finally slide the white envelope toward her. Her secret talent to calm down my nerves with just a smile is both scary and unexpected.

“Now let’s get to business. All the monetary stipulations I mentioned earlier are in here. In addition, I’ll pay for your dad’s medical bills. Anything that will ease his life and reduce your worry, we’ll do it. The marriage has no official end date, but after me becoming the CEO and with the media’s attention possibly elsewhere, let’s talk. You’ll always have a job with Hawthorne Holdings, even after we split up.”

It feels strange to talk about splitting up before we’ve even started our married life. But this isn’t a traditional setup, and ours is possibly the most imperfect match of the century.

“Charles, it’s too much.” She gnaws on her bottom lip. “You paying for Dad’s healthcare is more than enough for me. I don’t need anything else.”

“In business, you squeeze the maximum out of a great opportunity, Daisy. You don’t let your racehorse sit for seasons when it’s in the best shape. Build a safety net for your future.”

Her head hangs in embarrassment, but I’m certainly not letting her get into such a delicate situation ever again. She might not realize it, but the moment she signs the papers, everything between us will change. She’ll be carrying my name. Like everything else that’s mine, I’ll protect my wife from all present and future problems.

“Charles—”

“Daisy.” I lean forward. “This is nonnegotiable. There’s an NDA. The fewer people who know the truth, the lesser chance it’ll ever get out.”

“But your cousins know, don’t they?” Her words are flat, not meant to be accusatory, but they still hit me right in the chest. I’m being a hypocrite.

She doesn’t need to say it out loud.

“But I trust them.” I nod. “Is there someone with whom you want to share the truth?”

What the hell, Hawthorne? How can you even think of letting strangers in on this?

“My friends. They know you made a marriage proposal, but I don’t want them to know the rest.” She motions toward the contract papers. “I’d rather they think this is some sort of a fairy tale than constantly worrying if I made a deal with a handsome devil. Anyway, they believe you have a secret crush on me.”

Secret crush?

I have something for my assistant.

I’ve been calling it momentary insanity, which hits me more than a few times every day when she’s either making one of her hilarious remarks or just making me crazy by simply existing in my world.