That’s what this marriage was—a business arrangement between two people with no romantic aspirations or illusions, two insane people who’d do anything to reach their goals. She should be proud of herself for going this far for Sara. Instead, all she could think was What the hell have I done?
“Where do I start?” Poppy took a deep breath and blew it out, glad she could trust Ashlee. She couldn’t talk to Sara, not about this, and if she didn’t tell someone, she’d burst. “The part where he agreed to my pitch?”
Ashlee squealed and clapped her hands like a hyperactive kid.
“Or the part where I agreed to marry him?”
Ashlee collapsed into the seat opposite, her mouth a perfect O as she stared at Poppy as if she’d announced she was a finalist for American Idol.
“Crazy, huh?”
Ashlee’s lips moved but no words came out.
“He needs a wife for business, I need money to save Sara’s business, so apparently we’re a good fit.” Poppy resisted the urge to squirm in her seat at the memory of exactly how well they fit together.
When he had her backed up against that wall, his hands everywhere, she’d been so turned on she could’ve gotten naked right there and then. Funny how fast thoughts of kneeing him in the groin had turned to wanting to grope his groin. “It’s a temporary arrangement. Twelve months, tops. Not so bad.”
The silence grated on her nerves. “Say something.”
“Are you nuts?” Ashlee shook her head, cleared her throat. “Did he slip you a roofie? Were you drunk and dreamed up this crazy idea?” She pointed at Poppy’s sunglasses. “And take those off. I can’t see your eyes.”
“So?”
“I can’t see if you’re being serious or getting back at me for borrowing your fave Choos that one time.”
“Twice.” Poppy slid her sunglasses off and Ashlee recoiled.
“Ballet flats and no mascara? Gross. You’re either sick or The Hottie kept you up all night. Before he proposed, that is.” Ashlee rolled her eyes and folded her arms, less than impressed with what she assumed was her fabricated story. “What really happened?”
“I told you.”
Her serious tone took a few seconds to penetrate Ashlee’s disbelief, as her friend went from dubious to dumbfounded. “You’re marrying the guy?”
Ashlee made it sound like she was heading on a one-way trip to Mars on a defective shuttle.
“Yeah, it’s good business sense.”
“Good business sense,” Ashlee parroted before smacking her forehead. “What do you think this is, a freaking romance novel? Fictional characters get married for convenience, not people in real life. And certainly not you.”
“Why not?”
“Because you’re not the marrying kind.” Ashlee held up her left hand and pointed to the snazzy carats on her ring finger. “Remember what you told me when Craig proposed?”
Yeah, Poppy remembered, and at the time she’d meant every word of her anti-marriage spiel. She’d been happy for her friend, but when Ashlee had gushed Poppy would be next, she’d stated in no uncertain terms why she wouldn’t be.
Didn’t make sense. Humans weren’t meant to be monogamous for life, and from the many marriages she’d witnessed over the years, she could count the ones that survived with two truly happy partners on one hand.
It was why this arrangement with Beck Blackwood was the perfect solution to her problems. No dreams of happily ever after to cloud her judgment. Sara got a cool half a million and Poppy went some way toward repaying the massive emotional debt she owed her only sibling.
Best reason for marriage she could think of.
“I’m doing the right thing, Ash, but I need your help.”
“I won’t be party to this charade—”
“You will be if you want to keep your job.”
Damn, why had she blurted that? Probably her dear husband-to-be rubbing off on her with his blackmail routine. Tears pooled in Ashlee’s eyes and Poppy reached across the desk to pat her hand. “Sorry, hon, I’m a little stressed.”
“And a lot crazy,” Ashlee muttered, shaking her head. “You’re seriously going to marry this guy?”
“Yeah, and I need you to hold down the fort here while I shack up with him in Vegas.”
“You’ll be living with The Hottie?” For the first time since Poppy had announced her plans, the old matchmaking spark flickered to life in Ashlee’s eyes.
“That’s what married people do.”
The glint intensified. “Married people also do other stuff, so does that mean you and he…” She made a rather crude action with her finger and opposing fist, and Poppy blushed.