“Why, Damon?” she asked again, and I heard her voice crack.
“I don’t know. Maybe because I had a house given to me—don’t get me wrong, Laura inherited Grandad’s Caddy and sold it to buy a new car and stuff—but not everybody gets that handed to them. It’s like I had a head start, so I can comfortably help someone else out. You’re in a bind, and it isn’t any trouble to—”
“It isn’t any trouble to marry me?” she asked. “Nope. No way. Giving me a ride home, that’s no trouble, or picking up a gallon of milk for your mom is no trouble. Marriage—as in joined in legal wedlock, plus putting up your house as collateral to save my business—that’s a lot of trouble. No one is that nice, and there’s no way you have, like, middle-class guilt or something.”
I was losing her, and I wanted to keep fighting. “It might be fun; did you think of that? I get to help out a friend, probably get brownie points with my mom…”
“Oh, and I’m sure our moms would totally understand our in-name-only marriage to get me a business loan, Damon. This is insane.”
“A little, but all my best ideas are.”
She just looked at me, her mouth open, her head shaking from side to side.
“Trixie, let me help you.”
She sighed and shook her head again. “I’ll think about it.”
“Really? Or are you just trying to humor me?”
“This is a crazy idea,” she stated.
I nodded my head. “I know.”
“Like completely insane. Like certifiable.”
“Sounds like me,” I teased.
“I don’t know, Damon,” she hesitated.
Just like that I was holding her hand again, “Let me help you, Trix,” I said.
She met my eyes and all the air whooshed out of her lungs like I’d taken her breath away. She gave a rueful smile that made me want to do a victory fist pump.
“Shit.”
“Is that a yes?”
“That’s a maybe. I’ll think about it. Even though it’s a horribly unfair plan that you get nothing out of. I mean, are you a charitable organization suddenly?”
“Always have been. You’ll be the eleventh girl I’ve married to provide collateral for small business loans,” I deadpanned. “One more and I get a statue in the town square.” She rolled her eyes.
“I’ll call you.”
“I don’t have your number. If I’m going to give you my name, I think I should have your number,” I said, flirting a little.
She reached in her purse. I thought she was getting her phone to share the contact info with me, but instead she pulled out a pen and flipped my hand over. She wrote her number on my palm in purple ink.
“That’s my favorite color,” I said.
She just smiled at me and slipped out of her chair, “Good night,” she said. Then she leaned over and kissed my cheek. A quick kiss, a brush of soft, warm lips against my skin. I shut my eyes briefly and swallowed hard. I wasn’t sure why, but her kiss on my cheek moved me somehow. I caught her hand as she stood, and I held it.
“You can count on me,” I said. I needed to say it, even though I wasn’t sure why.
“I know,” she said. “That’s what’s scaring me.”
7
Trixie
I called Kiera early in the morning. This whole situation needed my sister’s perspective, but I hadn’t called her after I left the bar because she had little kids and I didn’t want to wake her or them. If anyone called my sister after nine at night, authorities would never find the body.
“So, you’re saying that Damon Vance, who you’ve had a crush on since like the seventh grade, wants to marry you and you have to THINK ABOUT IT? What the hell, Tig?”
“It’s not a real marriage. Just a fake marriage for loan collateral.”
“Even in a fake marriage, you can see him naked if you ask nicely, I’m pretty sure,” she teased.
“Well, I’m not clear on the etiquette in a fake marriage with a guy who takes pity on me because I’m a poor, fatherless waif or whatever who can’t afford to buy a building in downtown Rockford Falls.”
“I don’t think that’s a pity proposal. People don’t really do that. Maybe a pity dance if you were at prom and your date ditched you to make out with somebody else, but not an actual offer of marriage. That’s way overboard.”
“It’s stupid. I mean, what’s in it for him?”
“Maybe he likes you and wants to help because he can. He’s a nice guy, sis. Don’t overthink it. It’s not the worst idea.”
“You’re crazy,” I said.
Kiera laughed. “You know Damon. He’s a great guy. He can help you. Not to mention I know you used to doodle Mrs. Trixie Vance in your diary in high school.”
“You read my diary? Of course you did. You always were a sneaky little shit,” I shook my head.