Nick hesitated, then said, “No. That…didn’t happen.” He looked a little uncomfortable, but quickly seemed to regain control of his senses. “But never mind that. What are you two cooking up?”
Dean grabbed Lecie’s hand and pulled her off the stool. “Let’s talk in your office,” he said to Nick.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
NICK FOLLOWED DEAN AND THE GIRL into his office and shut the door. He looked at her, stuck his hand out and said, “Nick Matthews. I own this joint.” For now, muddled through his thoughts. Nick backhanded Dean’s gut. “This bozo is Dean Triplett.”
“Lecie de Laurent,” she said, in near perfect English, but her gaze held firm with Nick’s. He couldn’t place her accent, maybe a cross between French and English, if that’s possible. One thing was certain though, she looked nervous as hell.
“Somebody want to start from the beginning and tell me what’s going on?” Nick asked.
“It’s simple,” Dean said. “You need money. She has money. She wants to give some to you.” He looked at Lecie. “Two hundred and fifty grand, you said, right?” He waited until she nodded, then he looked back at Nick. “All you gotta do is marry her for six months. She’ll pay as soon as you say, ‘I do.’”
“What?” Nick blurted out.
“Oh, there is just one other thing…” she said with hardly any confidence at all. “You’ll have to live in my house for the duration of the marriage.” She shrugged. “Immigration and all.”
“What?” Nick said again, his voice even more strained than the first time.
“It’s the answer to your prayers, man.” Dean nodded. “You can solve all your problems with two little words.” Dean stood there looking at Nick like he’d discovered electricity or something.
Nick folded his arms over his chest, cut his eyes at Dean and said, “Shut up.”
“Just two.” Dean wiggled two fingers in the air. “Two little words.”
“I’m not joking,” Nick said.
“Say it with me.” Dean nodded, then said with pronounced enunciation, “I do.”
Dean’s big mouth egging this girl on wasn’t helping. Nick grabbed his arm and pulled him toward the door. “You need to get out. Now.” He shoved him out into the restaurant’s dining room.
“Don’t blow it,” Dean said just above his breath. “This girl is the answer to your prayers.”
Or my worst nightmare. Nick took the time to close the door slowly, just to give the last few minutes time to really sink in. Once the door was shut he had no choice but to turn around to face her.
The poor girl was standing there stunningly gorgeous, and looking completely unsure about the proposal Dean had laid down between them.
But there was something in her brilliant blue eyes. Something vulnerable and hopeless and sad. She looked about as desperate for a husband, albeit a fake one, as Nick was for money—the real stuff.
And Nick had to wonder why?
Lecie looked at Nick, wondering what in God’s name had happened. Where was Ginny and why weren’t they married? She wanted to ask but couldn’t find the courage.
“Look, I know I’m asking a lot.” Her fear shredded her words. “But I need help and I’m willing to pay for it.”
“You mentioned immigration,” he said.
She nodded, hesitated, striving to find the right words. “My father is trying to force me to come home.”
“You father can have you deported?”
She nodded.
“You haven’t committed a crime, have you?” he asked cautiously.
She sucked in a breath. “My only crime is defying Papa.”
“Miss de Laurent,” he said her name, mangling it with a decidedly American pronunciation. “You want to sit down?” He gestured toward the chairs in front of his desk.
“Sure.” She sat and he did the same. Right across from her. “Call me Lecie.”
“All right,” he said. “If you’ll call me Nick.”
She smiled, feeling the heat crawling up her neck. “Look, I understand if you want to turn me down. Your fiancée wouldn’t understand at all.”
“Well, I don’t have a fiancée anymore,” he said. “And I really wish I could help you out. Lord knows you could help me.” He shook his head, like he was trying to convince himself of something. But of what, she wasn’t sure.
“We could help each other,” she said hopefully.
“We could.” Then he smiled a sad sort of smile. “But I couldn’t in good conscience take money from you like that.” He shook his head. “It just wouldn’t be right.”
“There’s nothing dishonorable about being hired to provide a service.” Even as she said it, she knew it wouldn’t do a bit of good. Nick Matthews was one of those upstanding types, she could tell. He’d never use a woman, and he’d never want to be portrayed as having done so.
Nick opened the office door and escorted Lecie out into the restaurant. He rested his hand on the small of her back, her blonde hair caressing the back of his hand as he guided her to her table where the other women waited anxiously.
He almost felt bad about turning her down, but something inside him said it wasn’t right to take money from her.
“I hope we’ll continue to see you here at Hang Ten,” he said to her with a smile.
She looked at him as if she wanted to say something, make one more bid for her case. But she didn’t. She didn’t say anything. She just gave a smile that filled his heart with hope and looked at her friends and gave them an it’s a no-go kind of shrug.
Nick pushed himself to walk away, to let her save face. It wasn’t every day that a girl as beautiful as her got turned down when two-hundred and fifty grand was part of the deal.
He headed back to the table where only Dean remained. Ken and Jerod probably had to get back to work. Nick totally understood that.
“So…?” Dean asked as Nick sat down.
He was surprised that Dean even had to ask. “I turned her down.”
“Are you crazy?” Dean grilled Nick.
“I may be crazy,” Nick defended his actions. “But I’m not a cad.”
“You’re an idiot, is what you are.”
“I’m not taking that girl’s money,” Nick argued. “It wouldn’t be right.”