Break Even Read online

  “Here,” River says, setting a huge blue mug in front of me.

  “Black coffee?” I ask, gripping the cup between my hands.

  “Is that how you like it?” he asks, sitting across from me.

  River makes coffee preference sound like a sex act, but he’s right about how I like mine, and I hate it. He pays more attention to me than most people in my life. “Yes,” I answer, taking a sip. “Are you ready to put together a game plan?”

  “I don’t know that we really have to put together a plan because I already have one.” The mere glimmer in his eye tells me I’m not going to like it.

  “Do tell. I can’t wait to hear it.”

  He leans forward, locking me into his gaze. “We should make like husband and wife. A man married to a successful attorney is less likely to cause havoc in the neighborhood than a single stud like myself.”

  I place my coffee cup back on the table, fearing I’ll spill it if I don’t. “That’s the dumbest idea I’ve ever heard.”

  “I’m the client.”

  “Yes, and I’m your attorney. Not an escort. If you wanted someone to play wifey, you picked the wrong woman,” I seethe, crossing my arms over my chest.

  He keeps putting me in all these little traps, and I can’t get out.

  “It’s just one day. And you know it will work like a charm,” he adds.

  “People know me, River.”

  He tilts his head, staring straight into my eyes. “How often do you go to this part of town?”

  “Not often,” I say, taking another sip from my cup.

  “Let me be a little more specific. How many times have you visited this neighborhood in the last year?”

  I hesitate as if I’m thinking, but the answer is simple. “None.”

  “Do you have clients here?”

  Simple again. “No.”

  “I’m also going to take a wild guess that your cases haven’t landed you on TV. Contract law isn’t that exciting unless you’re fighting a Fortune 500.”

  I sigh, setting my coffee cup down with a clink. “Are you mocking my career now?”

  “Not for a second, but I did just eliminate every reason why you can’t play my game. Think about it, Marley. It’s your concept. How are we going to sell it?” he asks, leaning across the table.

  I slowly marinate on it while finishing off my coffee. For his part, he just watches me. He’s got me backed into a corner, and he knows it.

  “You’re not allowed to touch me,” I finally say.

  He smiles, pulling out a metal band and slipping it on his ring finger. “That doesn’t sound like a great basis for a marriage. Any other rules Mrs. Holtz?”

  “I want an annulment as soon as the meeting is over tonight.” It’s my turn to smile.

  “I wouldn’t dare argue with my wife, the attorney.”

  “Your one-day fake marriage of convenience is granted. Anything else before we get started?”

  “Two things,” he answers. “First, your job is to explain the concept to business owners, and I’ll do the final selling. You are not a lawyer until we get to the meeting tonight.” He pauses, taking another drink. “Is this how a real marriage works? I’m beginning to understand the indifference.”

  “I can play normal human being if you play nice. And fuck you on the indifference. I don’t know everything, but I’d venture to guess you’ve never said the ‘L’ word. I’m going to bet the thought of it rolling off your lips gives you anxiety.”

  “My wife is so fucking sexy when she swears. I can only imagine what would fall from those full lips if we consummated this marriage.”

  I’d like to slap the cocky grin from his face. “I’m married—for real—so watch it.”

  “Indifference, beautiful. Maybe I don’t talk about love, but if I ever do, it’ll be with passion.”

  This is going to be a long day—a really, really long day.

  THE COFFEE SHOP WAS AN easy sell since they close before River’s new club would even open at night. But it’s only one signature out of the many we need to reach our goal.

  “Are we just going to keep walking down the street, business to business?” I ask, trying to keep up with him.

  “That was the plan unless you have a better one.”

  “Nope, you’re the boss.”

  I notice he fidgets with his “wedding” ring as we walk to the next business. The metal band must feel odd on a man who’s practically allergic to even the idea of love. It wouldn’t surprise me if this were the only day he ever wore a ring on that finger.

  Our next stop is a hip salon with bright furniture and techno music pumping lightly in the back. “Can I help you?” the young lady at the reception desk asks.

  River leans on the counter, flashing his cocky grin and signature dimple. “I’d like to speak to the owner if she’s around.”

  The poor girl blushes a deep shade of red. Can’t say that I blame her; the college version of me would have done the same thing. “Can I tell her who’s here? She doesn’t really like it when I call her up here to deal with sales people.”

  “No selling, I promise. More of a proposition.”

  She eyes River suspiciously for a moment before responding. “I’ll see what I can do,” she says as she walks away. She’d probably move a little faster without the leather leggings and four-inch heels.

  “I think she likes you,” I whisper.

  He flashes his hand in front of me. “Doesn’t matter much since I’m married.”

  “Like a little piece of metal would ever mean that much to you,” I remark, resting my elbow on the counter. With twenty-some businesses left to visit, it’s going to be a long day.

  He leans in, his warm breath hitting my cheek. “The chance that I would ever be caught wearing one of these for real is slim. But if I do, it’ll be because I actually love someone enough to commit myself to her. Fidelity is something I take seriously.”

  For a moment, I imagine what it would be like to be with a man like River Holtz. If he’d put the same passion into a relationship as he does his business. If it would be different than it is with Cole, or does passion always fade over time? Closing my eyes, I attempt to regain my sense of control.

  “Lana will be right up,” the girl announces, bringing me back to the present.

  I catch a glimpse of River staring down at me. He smiles when he catches me looking. “Are you feeling okay, Mrs. Holtz?” he whispers, his lips brushing against my hair.

  “Perfect. Why wouldn’t I be?” I ask, sarcastically.

  “You look like you disappeared into another world. A fantasy, maybe?”

  I scoff. “A mid-day fantasy would be impossible when I’m with you.”

  “Is that any way for a wife to talk to her husband?” he teases.

  “Her fake husband?” I ask. “Most definitely.”

  I tap my nails on the counter, anxiously waiting for the owner to appear. This little act we’re putting on is bubbling up some of the problems in my real marriage. In the span of a couple hours, I’ve spent more time talking to River than I did my husband on our weekend away. My marriage isn’t unfixable, or at least I’m not at the point where I’m ready to give up. The passion isn’t there like it used to be. The emotional connection is slowly being severed. The promise of forever is no longer guaranteed. Cole tries, I think, but I feel like I’m trying harder. It’s tough to give more than you’re getting back, especially for as long as I have. My heart—my desire to make this relationship work—can only carry us so far.

  “Hello,” a svelte blonde in a body-hugging black dress says as she comes to stand next to the receptionist. “Can I help you?”

  River holds out his hand. “My name is River Holtz, and this is my wife, Marley Holtz,” he says, nodding in my direction. I reach my hand out after my pseudo husband shakes hers. “We’d like to talk about our plans for the old warehouse building around the corner. Do you have a few minutes?”

  She nods, gesturing for us to follow her
. River catches me by surprise, wrapping his hand around mine as we walk. I shoot him a look. He shrugs, a huge smile pulling at the corners of his lips. My attempt to pull my hand away fails. He’s too determined to make my life even more complicated with this little charade. He doesn’t know that this is the first time my hand has been held like this in a long time. And that the charade isn’t as annoying as it is painful—right in the center of my chest.

  “Take a seat,” she insists, after we walk into a stylish yet cramped office. There’s nothing to sit on but an interesting cow print couch. And it’s small—definitely built for just two people.

  River sits pulling me down with him. His hand releases mine only to rest on top of my knee.

  “So, why are you here, Mr. Holtz?” she asks, sitting behind her desk.

  “Well, Lana, my wife and I would like to open a restaurant slash nightclub to attract young to middle age business professionals. It would be a place for happy hour after work and a bite to eat or dancing later. It won’t be the type of club the college crowd is going to invade.”

  She shrugs, flashing him a bright smile. “It would be nice to have something like that around here, but what exactly does that have to do with me?”

  “The way the city zoned the area doesn’t allow for it. My best shot is getting as many business owners as I can to sign a petition to present to the council tonight. Would you mind?” he asks, unzipping his leather case to pull out a pen and the petition.

  “Would you be willing to throw in a discount for food and drinks for owners and employees of local businesses?”

  He smirks. “You can have 10% off anything I serve if that’s what it’s going to take.”

  “Deal, Mr. Holtz. Where do I sign? I have a client coming in any minute.”

  She signs, then passes the petition back to River. If everyone in this neighborhood is as easy as the first two, we shouldn’t have much of a problem. Of course, he grabs my hand as we walk back out. This part is going to be a problem.

  We’re seven businesses in by the time we stop for lunch at a quaint little bistro. It’s well lit with a line of windows, the sun shining off the bright yellow walls. The waitress greets us, leading us to one of only ten tables.

  “Can I get you something to drink?” she asks after handing us menus.

  “I’ll just have a water with lemon,” I reply, glancing over the salads.

  “Same for me,” River responds.

  This morning hasn’t been as bad as I thought it would be. Playing husband and wife was easy enough until one owner asked where we lived during a simple conversation. River dug us into this hole so I let him dig us out. He made up some crap about having a house here and another in New York. And I swear his hand was on some part of my body the entire morning. His saving grace was that he managed to keep it PG. It reminded me a lot of when Cole and I started dating … when Cole touched me with a purpose other than sex.

  “Do you know what you’re going to order?” River asks, pulling my eyes away from the menu and my mind from a sad prison.

  “I, uh, I think I’m going to try the chicken walnut salad.”

  “I’m going to have the French dip. Want to share some fries?” he asks, folding his menu.

  I shrug. “I could probably eat one or two.”

  He smiles. “Good answer, wifey.”

  “You can stop calling me that.”

  “And what would you like me to call you?”

  Folding my arms over my chest, I say, “Marley. Mrs. Mason. My attorney. Any of those would work.”

  His lips part, but the waitress reappears before he has a chance to hit me back with one of his smartass comments.

  She sets our waters on the table and smiles down at us. “Do you have any questions on the menu?”

  “No,” River replies before I get a chance. “My wife is going to have the chicken walnut salad, and I’m going to have the French dip with a side of fries.” He turns his attention to me. “Do you want your dressing on the side?”

  “Yes, please.”

  “Is there anything else I can get you?”

  We shake our heads in unison.

  “I’ll get these in for you. Should only take a few minutes,” she says before walking away. For a several seconds after she disappears, I narrow my eyes in on my husband-for-a-day.

  “What?” he asks, leaning his elbows on the table.

  “This,” I say, gesturing between us, “would never last more than one day.”

  The ultra-cocky grin he had on his face the first day I met him in my office is back. “You might think that, but there’s something I know that you haven’t figured out yet.”

  “And what’s that?”

  He closes some of the space between us. “Every inch of your perfect little body is aching to know what my hands would feel like. Every. Fucking. Inch. You hold a shield up, thinking it will keep me away, but there’s nothing I don’t see.”

  My mouth hangs open. He’s so wrong, but he’s so right. River is unlike anyone I’ve ever met. He’s untouchable—unobtainable—and I’m married. The holes in my marriage have led me to think about things—him—in a way I normally wouldn’t. When Cole touches me, he just doesn’t reach deep enough. It’s left a void. I hate to admit it, but that’s just the way things are.

  Before I can come up with a rebuttal, the waitress brings us our plates and sets them in front of us. Staring down, I pretend my salad is the most interesting thing I’ve ever seen. The strawberries and blueberries make it pretty.

  “Did I strike a nerve?” he asks, sliding the plate of fries so they’re within my view.

  “You’re on every single one of them.”

  He laughs sadistically. “But I’m right.”

  “You’re wrong. I wouldn’t let you near me even if I were single.” I pick up a piping hot fry and carefully bite into it.

  “If you were single, I guarantee I’d have you in my condo naked right now.” I don’t even remember what single Marley was like. A little over eleven years with Cole has left her a faint, distant memory. She liked the clean-cut type. She liked when she could hold a conversation for more than five minutes without being bored to death. Tattoos weren’t a big thing in law school, but arrogance was. I hated the arrogant ones. River never would have stood a chance at a relationship with me, but a one-night stand? It probably would have been more than I could have resisted.

  “You like yourself a little too much,” I say, moving some chicken around on my salad.

  “There’s nothing wrong with a little confidence.” I’m about to remind him that I’m his attorney and he’s my client when my phone rings. I’ve never been this excited for my damn phone to ring.

  I hold up my finger to shush River and hit accept. “Hello.”

  “Oh, Marley, I’m so glad I caught you. I’m supposed to ask you where you’d like the reservation to for your birthday Friday,” Beatrice says, talking as if she’s in competition with an hourglass.

  “Did Cole call you?” I ask, unable to mask the annoyed tone of my voice. He knows my favorite places to eat in Miami—or at least he should by now. Lack of surprise is another hole I can add to our relationship.

  “Yes. He said he was ‘flying in that afternoon and wanted to make your day special.’ Those were his words.”

  I name off two restaurants for her to try, knowing full well they’re probably booked by now. “If they don’t have availability, tell him I’m fine staying in for my birthday. It’s really not that big of a deal.” Maybe that way, we’d talk at least.

  “I’ll see what I can do,” she says. Beatrice knows me well enough to sense my disappointment and irritation.

  I hang up and tuck my phone back in my purse. It’s only then that I remember I’m sitting across from River, whose eyes are glued to me. His usual cocky demeanor has been replaced with something else … empathy maybe.

  “Did your secretary just call to see where you wanted to go for your birthday?” he asks, steepling his hands. The
fact that most of our food is untouched doesn’t go unnoticed.

  I nod.

  “Shouldn’t your husband be doing that himself?”

  I shrug.

  “When is your birthday?”

  “Friday,” I answer quietly, taking a small bite of chicken.

  “I’m sorry.”

  We devour our lunch in silence. I look down the entire time, working through my anger and resentment. He stares at me while eating his sandwich. I don’t want him to feel sorry for me; there are people who are going through far worse in life than I am. But the fact he even seems to care that I’m disappointed changes how I see him, if only slightly.

  River Holtz may not be one hundred percent asshole. There might be a percent or two of compassion in there.

  As we’re leaving, he grabs my hand in his. “Do you know what I’d do for you on your birthday if you were my real wife?”

  “What?”

  He squeezes my fingers between his. “I can’t tell you because it would be a surprise. You’d never be disappointed, though. Even if you had fifty birthdays, you’d be surprised with every single one.”

  I smile sadly. Those are the same types of things Cole used to promise me. When our love was black and white … before everything melded into gray.

  “My guess is it would start and end in your bed,” I tease, trying to leave my problems behind for at least a little while.

  “If you were my wife, every day would start and end in bed.”

  My eyes widen as we move on to the next business: a center for couple’s therapy. How fitting.

  BEATRICE OPENS THE DOOR to my office, carefully closing it behind her. “Your new favorite client is here.”

  I furrow my brow. “What’s he doing here?”

  “Do you want me to go back out and ask? I just assumed he wanted to be a pain in the ass.”

  I smile slightly. Beatrice doesn’t swear often.

  “Send him in. I have to leave in fifteen minutes to have lunch with Mr. Farrow. It gives me an out.” Truth is, I kind of miss him. I didn’t realize just how boring my days had become until he walked into my office last week. And now, I actually kind of like the guy just a little.