From Fake to Forever. Kat Cantrell

that it would benefit their families. Neither of them expected a love match and, in fact, they both preferred this sort of arrangement. He would gladly include her in his life and they’d have a calm, advantageous marriage...unlike the tumultuous, frenzied, crazy-making one he’d have with someone like Meredith.

      The last thing he needed was a woman in his life who goaded him into making bad decisions. He’d leave that kind of woman to his father.

      Jason was incredibly fortunate Meiling’s traditional family seemed forward-thinking enough to overlook his Western heritage. He was a man navigating a world largely populated by women. He needed an edge. Meiling was it. Nothing could stop his careful plans.

      Except for Avery’s misguided notion of slipping CEO out from under him. Which would happen when camels learned to swim.

      “Why don’t we worry about who will be the boss when the merger is done?” Jason suggested smoothly.

      They needed to focus on more important things or there wouldn’t be a CEO position to fill. Bettina and Paul were very comfortable in their current roles as CEOs of their halves, especially Bettina since she largely depended on Jason to advise her, but the winds of change were upon his parents whether they liked it or not.

      Avery scowled but nodded. “Fine. For now. But don’t think you’re getting away with something. I’m not going to back off. Let’s get to work.”

      They hashed out details for the next twenty minutes until his sister had to jet to her Project Runway meeting. In the cab back to Lyn, Jason dialed Meiling. It was only appropriate she hear about the marriage-license snafu from him. Hopefully she would appreciate the expedience of already having divorce papers in hand. Once his lawyer looked over them, it would be a done deal and he’d never have to see Meredith again...except in his mind where her luminous eyes beckoned him into an upside-down world where pleasure and understanding and connection didn’t seem like such foreign concepts.

      He had to stop thinking about her. It was disrespectful to Meiling, if nothing else. There was no scenario in which Meredith being in his life—even briefly—made a bit of sense.

       Two

      It was past seven o’clock, but Meredith’s stomach seemed stuck on Central Standard Time and dinner had about the same appeal as a tetanus shot. Nerves. Everything rode on this very quiet, very quick divorce.

      Lars, her father’s lawyer, had been so patient when he’d explained that he’d found the marriage record during a thorough investigation of her father’s beneficiaries. If her father hadn’t decided to update his will, she might never have known the marriage to Jason existed and thankfully, it had come out before she approached her father about the loan.

      Without a prenuptial agreement, Jason could claim to be a beneficiary to her father’s billions if he chose to fight for them in court. Thank God Lars had been her father’s lawyer since before she was born and was sweet on her. He’d agreed to keep her stupidity a secret until she took care of the divorce and then he’d advised her to come clean to her father or he would be forced to mention it on her behalf.

      A legal marriage she didn’t know about smacked of carelessness, and she couldn’t stand the thought of asking her father for a loan in the same breath as admitting a mistake she hadn’t yet fixed. Her sister, Cara, would never do something rash like a quickie Vegas wedding to a man she’d just met, let alone mess up the undoing of it. Meredith wanted to prove she could be as responsible as Cara. Once Meredith had Jason’s signature, she could present the marriage and divorce as a package deal, and hopefully everyone would agree she’d handled it like an adult who deserved a loan and a partnership opportunity in a successful business.

      Good thing Meredith wasn’t hungry. If one of the trendy restaurants around her hotel tried to swipe her credit card to pay for the exorbitant menu prices, the plastic would probably catch fire and disintegrate. The credit limit on her Visa was laughable, but she’d qualified for it all by herself. No one could take away the satisfaction of paying her own way—that was what the Grown-Up Pact should have helped her realize, but it had taken a lot longer for the epiphany than she’d expected.

      She hadn’t counted on sticking around this expensive Manhattan hotel over the weekend, but she recognized Jason’s wisdom in being available, just in case.

      No biggie. She probably didn’t need to eat anyway. Better to get used to lean times now because once she bought into Cara’s business, she’d have a loan to repay on top of a paltry savings account.

      Listlessly, she ran through the TV channels a fourth time. When her cell phone beeped, she greedily grabbed it in hopes of taking her mind off Jason.

      Except it was a text from the man himself: I’m in the lobby. Text me your room number.

      A quick, sharp thrill shot through her midsection. Oh, she didn’t fool herself for a minute. He wasn’t here to take her up on the ill-advised invitation for a drink. The man was engaged and she sincerely hoped he wasn’t the kind of guy who’d fool around on his fiancée. If he was interested in “catching up,” she wasn’t—poaching on men in committed relationships wasn’t her style.

      She texted him back and hightailed it to the bathroom to splash on some perfume and freshen her makeup because Chandler-Harris women did not allow anyone to see their cracks.

      The knock startled her despite her expecting it. That was fast.

      She opened the door and the dark expression on Jason’s face swept out to engulf her and not in a good way. The back of her neck crawled. “What’s wrong?”

      “Just let me in. I’m not having this conversation with you while lounging in the hall.”

      Silently, she pushed the door wide, forcing him to slide past her to enter the room. It was a deliberate ploy, but his solid body brushed hers deliciously and she wasn’t sorry she’d done it.

      Jason filled the hotel room and she couldn’t tear her gaze from him. “I take it you aren’t planning to ask me to dinner. Which would be totally fine, by the way. I haven’t eaten yet.”

      “You’ve ruined everything,” he said shortly. “Everything. I’ve worked so blasted hard for two years, and in one afternoon, it’s gone. Poof.”

      “What are you talking about? I’m here to fix the problem.”

      “I told my fiancée the cute story of a torrid weekend in Vegas and how, get this, it’s so funny, but it turns out I’m still married. She was not amused. In fact, she was so unamused, our engagement is over.”

      “Oh, Jason! I’m so sorry.” Meredith’s hand flew to her mouth involuntarily. How terrible. He had to be beside himself. No wonder his mood seemed so black. “I never imagined—”

      “So here’s how this is going to go. You cost me a very important contact in the textile industry. You owe me. And you are going to pay, starting right now.”

      She took a step backward as his ire rolled over her. “Uh, pay how?”

      This was not the man she remembered from Vegas. He looked the same, had the same rocking body and a voice that should be required by law to talk dirty to her twenty-four seven. But this Jason Lynhurst was harder, more brittle. She didn’t like it.

      “In as many unpleasant ways as I can devise,” he muttered and swept her with a look. “But not that way. This is strictly business, sweetheart. I need you to do something for me.”

      Since he’d just lost his fiancée, and likely was nursing a broken heart, she’d let the condescension slide. “I’m truly sorry that your fiancée is upset. I’m sure you can smooth things over. Do that thing with your mouth, you kno—”

      “Meiling is not upset.”

      Fire flared from his gaze, giving her a great big clue who the upset party