Marry Me, Kate. Judy Christenberry

damn, damn. No, she wasn’t stupid. “You’re not exactly the kind of woman my mother wants me to marry.” He cleared his throat. “If I married a society type, my mother would expect me to become even more involved in the society life-style. I want less.”

      “So you thought you’d choose a weed to grow among the lilies, knowing everyone will hate her and avoid you.”

      He didn’t like what she was saying, but he couldn’t deny at least some of it. “If the men you met tonight liked you any more, this diner would be overflowing.” She raised one eyebrow but said nothing. “Besides, what do you care if they don’t like you? You’d get your money to make your dream come true.”

      “We still haven’t discussed payback terms.”

      He smiled, knowing she wouldn’t have asked if she wasn’t considering his plan just a little. “That’s the beauty of the plan for you, Kate. If you meet the terms of the agreement, you don’t owe me anything.”

      Her mouth dropped in surprise. “You mean—you mean the money is a gift?”

      “Nope. You’re providing a service, and I’m paying. One year of your life.”

      “But I can work on the diner, get started?”

      “I want you to work on the diner, to be too busy for any socializing,” he assured her, feeling victory within his grasp.

      “And all I have to do is go through a legal ceremony?”

      “And pretend that we have a normal marriage.”

      Kate felt her elation subside. “What does that entail?”

      “Not much A few public displays of affection, moving into my house. Things like that.”

      “But not your bedroom?” she demanded, wanting to be clear about his demands.

      “Not my bedroom,” he assured her.

      She stared at him. His voice was firm, his gaze clear, but there was a small flicker there that made her hesitate. That and the looks he’d given her this evening. Could she trust him?

      Excitement filled her as she thought about finishing the year with her plans intact, debt-free. The possibility of succeeding was greatly enhanced if she had no loans. Maggie hadn’t believed she could pull it off.

      “All right,” she said abruptly, looking him in the eye. “Have your lawyer draw up the papers. If everything is as you say, I’ll agree.”

      

      What have I done?

      That panicky question was lying in wait when Kate opened her eyes the next morning. She’d tossed and turned most of the night and felt more exhausted this morning than she had when she fell into bed.

      Of course, five-thirty came early every morning, but she had no choice. Usually she hit the sack early, knowing the demands of the diner. Someday, she’d be able to hire someone else to share the burden of the cooking. Right now, she handled the eighteenhour shift by cooking extra amounts and freezing them for when she couldn’t be there, leaving her two waitresses to warm up the specials.

      Thinking about the future brought her right back to the weird evening she’d suffered through. And the possibilities it offered. She had to call Maggie.

      Rolling over, she reached for the phone and dialed her sister’s number. “Maggie? Are you awake?”

      Her sister growled into the phone. “The sun isn’t up.”

      “I know. But I had to tell you. I’ve found someone to give me the money for the diner!”

      Ever practical, Maggie got right to the point. “What do you have to do in return?”

      Kate tried several ways of answering, but nothing came out. It wasn’t easy to explain.

      Maggie’s voice tightened. “Kate? What’s wrong?”

      “Nothing,” she hurriedly said. Maggie was younger by two years, but she’d always been the responsible one, the one to come along behind Kate and tidy up her messes.

      “Then why haven’t you answered my question?”

      “Because it’s hard to explain. It’s—it’s a personal services contract.” That sounded like a polite way to categorize their agreement.

      “Kate! You’re not—”

      “No!” Kate returned at once, understanding her sister’s misapprehension from her tone of voice. Then she rethought her answer. “I’m going to—to marry the man for one year. A platonic marriage. Strictly business.”

      “Has he seen you?”

      “Yes, of course he has.”

      “Then don’t do it.” With an exasperated sigh, Maggie added, “No man could marry you and keep it platonic...unless he’s gay, of course. Is he?”

      Kate let her thoughts travel over the sexy image of William Hardison in a tux. With a sigh, she admitted, “No, he’s not.”

      “I don’t like this, Kate.”

      “I know, Maggie, but I have to do it. For Pop. I know you don’t like the idea—”

      “I just don’t think—never mind. I know it’s important for you to keep the diner. But I don’t want you to get hurt.”

      “I won’t. It’s all going to be spelled out in an agreement. And I’ll be able to make a good living. Maybe I can even help Susan some.”

      “If she’ll let you. I’ve tried, but she’s too proud. She won’t let me do much.”

      “But that’s the beauty of my plan, Maggie. She’ll be part-owner. Both of you will. If I make any profits, you two will get your share.”

      Maggie, ever supportive, didn’t voice her doubts, though Kate knew she had them. “Good. Have Tori look at the contract before you sign it.”

      Kate smiled. She’d known Maggie would be practical. “You’re right I’ll call her.”

      After saying goodbye to her sister, she added to her list of things to do a call to Victoria Herring, a longtime friend who was an attorney. And Susan. She deserved to hear the good news, too. Maggie and Kate loved their new sister, but they found her as stubborn as either of them. She refused any offers of money to help her raise her siblings.

      And without a debt overhead, Kate could offer real profit. She turned to the most entertaining of her plans, new menus. Catering offerings. What she’d tasted at the party at the museum last night wouldn’t be hard to beat. She’d need an entrée, of course, to society, someone to lend her support.

      She almost slipped in the shower as she realized the added benefit to marrying William Hardison. Of course! He would be her entrée. She’d been concentrating on the financial aspects of their agreement, but there was more to be gained from their liaison.

      Frowning, she remembered his hope that she would keep him from the necessity of social engagements. Fine. That’s what she would do. She would be working, anyway, if her ideas worked out. No one would expect her husband to accompany her on catering jobs.

      Having nicely set him aside from her plans, Kate dressed and headed for the diner’s kitchen, ready to start her day, hope riding high.

      

      When Will reached his office the next morning, his secretary handed him a stack of messages from his mother. He’d turned off the ringer on his phone when he’d gotten home last night. He knew his mother would call and he didn’t want to talk with her until he could present her with a fait accompli.

      “She’s already called three times, Mr. Hardison. I assured her you would be in shortly.”

      “And I am. But I don’t want to talk to her just yet. If she calls again,