Chapter 5 5

The rain started as they pulled up to the City Clerk's office. It wasn't a drizzle; it was a deluge. The sky had opened up, dumping water on Manhattan.

The line outside the building was long, filled with couples huddled under umbrellas. But Gerhard's driver pulled right up to the curb, and a security guard was already opening the door for them.

They bypassed the line. Dawn felt the eyes of the other couples on them-envy, curiosity. She kept her head down, burying her chin in the collar of Gerhard's trench coat.

Inside, it was chaotic. But they were ushered into a private side room. Gerhard spoke briefly into his phone. "Sterling, the waiver came through? Good. Send a copy to the clerk's private email. I want this done in ten minutes."

Gerhard looked at Dawn. She was still wearing the red dress and his coat. He was wearing a three-piece bespoke suit. He looked too perfect. Too rigid.

He reached up and loosened his tie. With a quick, fluid motion, he pulled it off completely and tossed it into a wastebasket in the corner. Then he unbuttoned the top button of his shirt.

Dawn stared at him. "That was silk," she said.

"It was stiff," he replied. He ran a hand through his hair, messing it up slightly. "Better?"

"You look... human," she said before she could stop herself.

He looked at her, his eyes unreadable. "Don't get used to it."

The clerk was a tired-looking woman with reading glasses on a chain. She looked at their paperwork.

"Voluntary?" she asked, stamping a form.

Dawn hesitated for a fraction of a second. Gerhard's hand moved to the small of her back. His palm was hot through the fabric of her dress. It felt possessive.

"Yes," Dawn said.

"Rings?" the clerk asked.

Dawn froze. "We didn't..."

Gerhard reached into his pocket. He pulled out a small velvet box. He flipped it open.

Inside sat a diamond. It was a pink oval diamond, massive and flawless, set in rose gold.

Dawn gasped. "Gerhard, I can't. That's..."

"It's a prop," he cut her off. He took her left hand. His thumb and forefinger circled her ring finger for a brief, calculating moment, as if testing the fit of an invisible band, before he spoke again. "Wear it."

He slid the ring onto her finger. It fit perfectly. Not a millimeter of space.

Dawn looked up at him, confusion warring with shock. "How did you know my size?"

"I'm good at estimating dimensions," he said smoothly. "It's part of the business."

He put a simple platinum band on his own finger.

"By the power vested in me," the clerk droned, "I pronounce you husband and wife."

There was a pause. The clerk looked up, expecting a kiss.

Gerhard turned to Dawn. He didn't lean in. He took her hand and gave it a firm squeeze.

"A pleasure doing business with you, Mrs. Holcomb," he said.

They walked out of the office. The rain was coming down in sheets now. It bounced off the pavement, creating a mist.

Gerhard snapped open a large black umbrella. He held it over Dawn, ensuring she was completely covered. His own left shoulder was exposed to the rain. The water soaked his expensive shirt instantly, turning the fabric dark.

He didn't flinch. He guided her to the car, opening the door for her.

Once they were inside, safe and dry, he reached into his wallet again. He pulled out a black American Express Centurion card.

"PIN is your birthday," he said, handing it to her. "Buy some clothes. You need a wardrobe that fits the part."

Dawn took the card. It felt heavy, like the business card, but colder. "My birthday?"

"I saw it on your ID," he said. He signaled the driver. "740 Park Avenue."

Dawn stopped breathing for a second. "740 Park? That's..."

"Home," Gerhard said.

"Wait," Dawn said, panic rising again. "I have to go back to Queens. My stuff. My clothes..."

"I'll have someone pick up your things," Gerhard said. "You are not going back there."

"But Lydia..."

"Lydia is the past," Gerhard said. He looked out the window at the rain-blurred city. "You live in the sky now, Dawn."

Dawn looked at the ring on her finger. It sparkled even in the dim light of the car. It was beautiful. And it was heavy.