A Contract, A Wedding, A Wife?. Christy McKellen

exactly where his house was using an online map app—just to make sure he wasn’t expecting her to live in some kind of broken-down hovel. Not that she expected to encounter that. Judging by the high-end furniture and breathtaking elegance of his office, she couldn’t imagine his house being a place she wouldn’t like to spend time in. She could have happily lived right there in his office if he’d asked her to, with that wonderful view over the water. It certainly beat the one she had from their living room window over the busy, vehicle-choked high street, or the one of the bins in their small back yard from the bedroom she shared with her sister.

      Not that she was complaining about her lot. Home was where her family was and she’d been happy living here above the café with them. Staying in this flat had made her feel closer to her father somehow. She could still picture him sitting in the battered old leather armchair by the window after long shifts in the café, with a paperback resting on his knee and his requisite triple-shot black coffee on the small table beside him. He’d hated working at the bank and after twenty years he’d finally given up corporate life and they’d all downsized so he could run the board game café, a dream he’d had for years.

      Sadly, he’d only worked there for five years before he died. Still, Soli was glad he’d had the opportunity to realise his dream. Ever since she’d lost him the café had become a symbol of hope for her, as well as a reminder that hard work and dedication paid off—something she’d been slow to learn in her younger years, to her everlasting shame.

      Shaking off the guilt that always gave her a painful jab when she remembered how selfishly she’d acted in her teens, she got up from behind the counter to close up after the last stragglers made their way out onto the street, waving cheerily to her and calling their thanks. If only they had more regulars like them, the type that bought food and drink every hour as they played, the café would have some hope of survival.

      She just needed to find a way to entice those types of people to walk through the door.

      After locking up behind them and giving the floor a sweep and the tables one last wipe, Soli walked into the middle of the room and tried to survey it with objective eyes. Why weren’t people coming in as much as they’d used to? Sure, it was a bit shabby-looking now after years of wear and tear and it could probably do with a bit of sprucing up, but it had a friendly, comfortable aura to it, and didn’t people love shabby chic these days?

      She hated the idea of messing with what her father had done to the café. He’d sanded and varnished the wooden tables himself, painted the walls, chosen the now slightly chipped crockery, and she couldn’t imagine any of it changing. It would be like wiping her father’s soul from the place.

      She shuddered, hating the very thought of that.

      No, she’d try advertising first, then think about any alterations they might have to make once the money was flowing in again.

      Assuming they didn’t lose the tenancy in the meantime.

      Taking a breath, she focused on calming her suddenly raging pulse. All she needed to do was marry Xavier McQueen and everything would be okay.

      The utter bizarreness of that thought made her laugh out loud.

      Shaking her head at the surreal turn her life had taken, she went to the till to make sure it had been cashed up properly, grimacing at the sight of the meagre takings for the day. Yes, something definitely needed to change.

      Picking up her phone, she tapped in the number he’d given her. He picked up after two rings.

      ‘Xavier McQueen.’

      ‘It’s Soli.’

      ‘Hi,’ was all he said in reply.

      There was a pause in which the weight of expectation hung heavily in the air.

      ‘So I checked up on you and it turns out you’re not an axe murderer,’ she quipped nervously.

      There was a uncomfortable pause when he didn’t respond.

      Okay, then. Jokes weren’t deemed appropriate right now. Wow, this guy was so businesslike.

      Probably best just to get down to business, then.

      ‘So I’ve thought about it and I still want to go ahead with our deal.’

      ‘Great, that’s great.’ She could hear the relief in his voice. ‘I’ll arrange for a solicitor to draw up a pre-nuptial contract and another one that states the terms of our deal, which we’ll both need to sign.’ His tone was professional again now.

      ‘I’ll give notice at the register office that we want to get married but we’ll have to wait twenty-eight days before we can legally perform the ceremony. The closest one is near St Pancras Station, but I’m assuming you won’t have an issue with where the formality of it takes place.’ It wasn’t a question, she realised. ‘It’s not like we’ll be having a big celebration with friends and family,’ he added when she didn’t reply right away.

      ‘Er, no, that’s fine.’ The words came out sounding confident, but something deep in her chest did a strange, sickening sort of flip. This really wasn’t the way she’d imagined it happening. Getting married. But, as he’d rightly pointed out, this wasn’t meant to be a romantic event, it was a business transaction and should be treated as such. There was no room for any kind of emotional attachment. She’d make sure her real wedding, to the guy who loved and cherished her, was a big, exciting affair, with all her friends and family present. That one would be a cause for a true celebration. She just needed to keep that in mind when she signed the register. True love would come later in her life, when she finally had the time and energy to consider it a possibility.

      ‘Okay, good. I’ll let you know the details as soon as I’ve set it up. I’ll need some personal documents from you which I’ll swing by and pick up tomorrow, if that works for you?’

      ‘N-no problem,’ she stuttered, feeling suddenly as though her life was running away from her a little.

      It’s not surprising; you’re getting married in a month.

      A shiver of nerves tickled down her spine.

      There was a lot to sort out before then, not least accepting the university place for Domino and finding a full-time carer for her mum, as well as giving notice at the gastro pub and hiring someone to cover her shifts at the café.

      The mere thought of all the work and organisation ahead of her was exhausting.

      This is for the family, she reminded herself as panic threatened to engulf her. And it’s only temporary.

      In a year’s time her life would have taken on a whole new shape. She was doing this for all the right reasons and once she and Xavier were divorced she’d be free to fall in love and get married for real.

      With that thought in mind, she told Xavier goodbye and hung up.

      Trying to ignore the now almost overwhelming wave of nerves, she turned off all the lights in the café, hid a yawn behind her hand and trudged up the narrow staircase to the flat, first to check that her mother didn’t need anything, then to spend the next hour or so planning how best to kick-start the beginning of her brand-new life.