Chapter 4

The marriage bureau inside City Hall was packed and echoing with loud chatter. Blaire and Jude held their paper queue ticket. They sat on a long wooden bench in the waiting area. Blaire pressed herself against the far left armrest. Jude sat on the far right. A massive, empty gap remained between them.

Beside them, a Latino couple was making out aggressively. Blaire felt her face heat up. She awkwardly averted her eyes, her gaze drifting downward until it landed on Jude's long, muscular legs stretched out in front of him.

Jude felt the weight of her stare. He turned his head and shot her a look so cold it could freeze water. Blaire flinched, snapping her head up to stare intensely at the ceiling tiles, her heart hammering like a caught thief.

The automated voice called their number. They both stood up simultaneously and walked to the clerk's window. The clerk slid the Marriage License application across the counter.

Jude reached into the inner pocket of his suit jacket. His fingers closed around his custom Montblanc fountain pen. He pulled it halfway out before his brain caught up with his fake identity. His hand froze.

Blaire saw him struggling. She quickly dug into her purse, pulled out a chewed-up, one-dollar ballpoint pen, and shoved it toward him. "Here. Use mine."

His obsessive-compulsive disorder prevented him from reaching for the pen, but for now it seemed to be the only option. The corner of Jude's mouth twitched. He slowly took the cheap plastic pen from her hand.

When he reached the section for 'Occupation', Jude didn't even blink. He scribbled Sales Representative in block letters. Blaire peeked at the form out of the corner of her eye. Seeing it in writing cemented her belief. Just a struggling salesman.

"That will be thirty-five dollars," the clerk announced.

Blaire instantly reached for her wallet, operating on her strict fifty-fifty rule. But Jude's hand shot out faster. He slapped a plain, standard debit card onto the counter, beating her to the punch.

"Okay, look at the camera," the clerk instructed, pointing to a small webcam. "You need to stand closer together."

Jude's entire body went rigid. His muscles locked up like stone. Seeing his hesitation, Blaire took a deep breath and took a step sideways. Her shoulder brushed directly against his bicep through the fabric of his shirt.

Jude's lungs stopped working. He braced himself for the violent wave of nausea, the crawling sensation of bugs under his skin that always accompanied a woman's touch.

But nothing happened.

His chest remained calm. His stomach didn't churn. A violent shockwave of disbelief crashed through his brain. He stared down at where her shoulder pressed against him, his eyes wide with confusion.

Before he could process the impossibility of it, the camera flashed, permanently capturing their stiff, awkward proximity.

They were ushered into a small room for the brief ceremony. The judge stood behind a podium and asked them to exchange rings.

Because it was a spontaneous decision, neither of them had rings. The air in the room grew thick with awkwardness.

The judge smiled, clearly used to this. "That's perfectly fine. We can proceed directly to the vows."

Jude looked at Blaire. His deep, magnetic voice vibrated through the quiet room. "I do." The sound of it sent a physical jolt down Blaire's spine, making the tips of her ears burn hot.

Blaire swallowed the lump in her throat. She repeated the words. When the judge handed her the thin, official marriage certificate, her fingers trembled slightly. The reality crashed down on her-she was legally bound to this stranger.

They walked out of City Hall. The autumn wind whipped around them. They stood on the steps, staring at the traffic, neither knowing what to say.

Jude checked his watch. His tone shifted back to a cold, business-like clip. "I need to go back to the office and beg my manager for some time off. I'll pick you up later to move your things."

Blaire nodded, feeling a pang of pity that he had to go grovel to a boss on his wedding day.

Jude turned and walked toward the corner of the building. The second he stepped into the shadows, completely out of Blaire's line of sight, his posture changed. The defeated salesman vanished. His spine straightened, his aura turning lethal and commanding. He pulled out his primary phone and dialed his executive assistant, Emanuel Stanley.

"Emanuel," Jude ordered, his voice dripping with absolute authority. "Find a standard, cheap apartment in Queens immediately. Two bedrooms. Make sure it looks lived-in."

Emanuel stuttered through the speaker, utterly bewildered. "Queens? A standard apartment? Boss, are you not returning to the Hampton estate?"

"Shut your mouth and do exactly as I say," Jude snapped. "And clear my entire schedule for the rest of the day. I am 'moving'." He ended the call, shoving the phone back into his pocket.

Blaire returned to her cramped, depressing studio apartment. She threw her clothes into a battered suitcase.

Her phone rang. A video call from Sharon. Blaire took a deep breath and answered. She lied through her teeth, claiming she had found a new female roommate and was moving to Queens to split the rent.

Sharon scowled at the screen, furious about the failed blind date, but the mention of saving money pacified her slightly. "Just don't forget you still need to find a husband," Sharon warned before hanging up.

Blaire dragged her heavy, broken suitcase out of her building. Jude's Toyota was already idling by the curb.

Jude stepped out of the car. He looked down at her suitcase, noting the wheel that was practically hanging off by a thread. A microscopic frown pulled at his brow. Without a word, he reached out, grabbed the handle, and easily hoisted the heavy bag into the trunk.