Chapter 3 3

Dawn tried to pull her hand back, but the memory of his touch still burned on her skin. Her heart was hammering so hard she thought he must be able to see it beating through the thin fabric of her dress.

"Mr. Holcomb," she whispered. "I really have to go. If Lydia finds out I didn't meet him..."

"What will she do?" Gerhard asked. He didn't look concerned. He looked bored, but in a focused way. "Kick you out? Scream at you?"

"Yes," Dawn said. "Exactly that."

"And then you'll go where?" He gestured vaguely with one hand. "To a shelter? Or will you go with him?" He nodded toward the front of the café where Mr. Vane was now loudly complaining about the service. "He looks like the type who expects a return on his investment immediately. Tonight."

Dawn felt the blood drain from her face. The thought made her stomach lurch.

Gerhard reached into the inner pocket of his jacket. He pulled out a black card. It wasn't a credit card; it was a business card. It was matte black with silver lettering. Minimalist. Heavy.

He slid it across the marble table.

"I have a proposal," he said. His tone shifted. The boredom vanished, replaced by the sharp edge of a negotiation.

Dawn looked at the card, then at him. "I don't understand. You don't know me."

"I know enough," he said. "You're quiet. You're desperate. And you have no one else to protect you."

The words stung because they were true.

"I am currently in the middle of a board restructuring," Gerhard said, as if discussing the weather. "The shareholders are nervous. They think I'm too volatile. Too much of a bachelor. They want to see stability. They want to see a family man."

He leaned forward, his elbows resting on the table. "I need a wife. For two years. A contract marriage."

Dawn stared at him. "You want to hire me to be your wife?"

"Essentially."

"Why me?" Dawn asked. "You could have anyone. Models. Actresses."

"Models talk to the press," Gerhard said coldly. "Actresses act. I don't want drama. I want silence. I want someone who will stand next to me at galas, smile, and not say a word to the reporters. You seem uniquely qualified for that."

Dawn looked toward the door. Mr. Vane was leaving. He stormed out, the bell chiming angrily behind him.

"He's gone," Gerhard said. "But he'll be back. Or Lydia will find another one. A worse one."

He checked his watch. It was a Patek Philippe, worth more than the entire building Dawn lived in. "I have a meeting in twenty minutes. You have one minute to decide."

"One minute?" Dawn choked out.

"This is a business transaction, Miss Roth. I don't like to waste time." He looked at her, his blue eyes piercing. "I will pay off your student loans. I will pay off Lydia's debt so she leaves you alone. I will provide you with housing and a monthly stipend. In exchange, you give me two years of your life and your signature on a marriage license."

Dawn's mind raced. It was insane. It was dangerous. This man was a stranger, and he radiated a kind of power that frightened her.

But then she thought of the heat in her bedroom. She thought of the red banner on her banking app. She thought of Mr. Vane's sweaty hands.

Gerhard Holcomb was a shark, yes. But he was a clean shark.

He started to reach for the card to take it back. "Time's up."

Dawn's hand shot out. She pressed her fingers down on the card, trapping it against the table.

"Wait," she said.

Gerhard paused. One corner of his mouth ticked up. "Is that a yes?"

Dawn took a shaky breath. She looked at his face-hard, unyielding, but offering a lifeline.

"Yes," she whispered.

Gerhard didn't smile. He just nodded once. He pulled his phone out and dialed a number.

"Sterling. Get the papers ready. The standard prenup. I'm coming over. Now."

He hung up and stood. He buttoned his jacket.

"Let's go, Miss Roth."

"Now?" Dawn asked, scrambling to grab her bag. "We're doing this now?"

"I told you," Gerhard said, turning toward the back exit. "I don't waste time."

He walked out the back door without looking to see if she was following. He knew she would.

Dawn ran a few steps to catch up. They emerged into an alley where a sleek black sedan was waiting, engine idling. The driver opened the rear door.

Gerhard gestured for her to get in.

Dawn hesitated for a fraction of a second. The interior of the car looked like a black hole. Once she got in, there was no going back.

"Get in, Dawn," Gerhard said softly. It was the first time he had used her first name.

She climbed in. The door shut with a heavy, expensive thud, sealing her inside.