He waved a hand. “We have the girls in the magazine do it all the time. If she wants to have a chance to marry me, she’ll fast.”
There was so much about that statement that bothered her. One thing in particular stuck out, though. “You haven’t decided which one you’re going to marry yet, Vader?”
The sound he made was derisive. “Does it matter?”
Well, she imagined it mattered quite a bit to the girls. “I think it does. Do you love them?”
He gave her a dismissive look. “As long as they’re not fucking that asshole best man, I don’t care what they do.”
Asshole best man? Asher? “You don’t like Asher? I don’t understand. Did you two have a falling out?”
“We never had a falling in.” He frowned at a proof and picked up a magnifying glass, leaning over the picture. Then, he offered it to Greer. “Do you think her labia should be photoshopped?”
Like she cared? “Why is Asher your best man if you hate him?”
Her father nudged the picture at her again. “This is important, Greer. What do you think of this woman’s genitals?”
She wasn’t going to get an answer until she gave him what he wanted, was she? She looked down at the picture. “She’s fine.”
“I think I’ll have them photoshopped anyhow, just to be safe.”
“Asher?”
Stijn turned another page.
“Asher?” Greer repeated. “Why is he your best man?”
Stijn glanced up at her briefly, then went back to the pictures. “It was part of our deal.”
“Your . . . deal? What deal?” What on earth was going on?
He put down the magnifying glass and gave her an exasperated look. “Greer, I’m very busy right now.”
She slapped a hand over the pictures, covering them. “Tell me what deal you had right now, or I’m walking out that door and not coming back.”
Stijn gave her a cold look and pried her fingers off the glossy page. “No need to be dramatic. We made a business deal, he and I. He is going to give Dutchman magazine an influx of cash and in exchange, I’m going to allow him to be my best man.”
That was . . . the most nonsensical thing she’d ever heard. “Why does he want to be your best man?”
“Ask him. The wedding was his idea.”
Alarm bells sounded somewhere in the back of her mind. “Wait . . . what? You didn’t want to get married?”
“If I didn’t want to marry your mother, why would I want to marry one of those interchangeable idiots?”
“I . . . I don’t know,” she stammered. “And they’re not—”
“Look. Greer.” Her father took on the patient tone that she’d heard him use when business dealings weren’t going his way. “Sutton offered me the money if I would put on a fake wedding for him. It’s been a great idea and we both get what we want.”
“And what is it you both want?” She wanted to hear him say it, to see if it sounded as terrible aloud as it did in her mind.
Stijn sat back in his chair. “I wanted to save Dutchman. It’s very difficult being a paper magazine in these digital times, Greer. I needed the money to make new investments, but I don’t even know if those will be necessary. The wedding with the girls has brought new attention to the company. As for what he wanted?” Her father shrugged. “I suppose he wanted to put on this ridiculous wedding so he’d have a chance to be close to you.”
It had been what she suspected, but hearing it said aloud somehow made it ten times worse.
Her father had zero respect for any of the three girls he was lining up to marry. Nor had he bothered to tell Greer that the wedding was a sham, and that she’d be working her ass off for nothing. Not for nothing, a cynical voice said in her mind. You gave Asher exactly what he wanted.
She had. She’d eagerly jumped into his bed and now he was trying to get his hooks in her baby. And she was an idiot, because being around him for a few weeks and being romanced? She’d fallen for all of it.
The betrayal hurt, and it hurt worse than the time in the gardens because she’d let her guard down again. She’d known he’d hurt her in the past and she was still willing to give him another shot. To let him be the man she’d always wanted him to be. To prove to her that he could love her, because she wanted it so desperately.
Hot damn, I love you, Greer. He’d whispered that to her just last night.
How could she trust anything he said? The lies were just cascading around her left and right. She got to her feet, feeling shaky.
“Tell Bunni I want her fasting starting now.” He picked up his magnifying glass and peered at the photo proofs again.
Greer stared down at her father. Did he not care that she’d been manipulated? That she’d been working night and day on the wedding that was nothing but a stunt? And no one had bothered to tell her it was a stunt?
Did he even care about her at all?
“You tell her,” Greer said softly. “I quit.”
“You can’t quit.” He didn’t look up from the proofs.
“I just did. You lied to me. I’m very upset, Vader.” Her voice was calm, but her hands were clenched at her sides to stop them from shaking. She was so upset she . . . well, she wanted to cry. And throw things. And maybe throw up. “I’m quitting. You can finish planning your wedding yourself, since it’s all fake.”
Stijn looked up, real panic on his face. “You can’t quit, Greer. We’ve two days before the wedding.”