Total pages in book: 121
Estimated words: 115198 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 576(@200wpm)___ 461(@250wpm)___ 384(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 115198 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 576(@200wpm)___ 461(@250wpm)___ 384(@300wpm)
“No, no, nothing like that.”
I deflate back into the couch. Adrenaline plus gummy is a heady combination. “Thank fucking God. Believe me, that is the last thing I need.”
“No, this situation is entirely of my own making, unfortunately.”
“And you think I can help you? I can barely feed myself a balanced diet.”
West eyes my soggy bowl of Froot Loops. “I think only you can help me, in fact.”
“Is this my Chosen One moment?” I flatten a palm to my chest. “I thought it would come sooner than my twenty-fifth year.” Pausing, I add, “I also thought there’d be a sword. Maybe dragons.”
“Maybe we should wait to have this conversation.”
“No, no.” I reach for my mixing bowl. “This is perfect timing.”
He seems unconvinced, but continues anyway. “As you likely remember, my family owns a large company.”
Swiping a drip of milk from my chin, I admit through a bite of Froot Loops, “I honestly have no idea what your family does.”
He looks surprised. “Even being friends with Jake?”
“I knew what Jake ordered for lunch and what kinds of stupid movies would make him laugh, and I could predict all his pickup lines at parties, but we didn’t ever, like, sit down and do backstory. He didn’t even mention he had a brother until he suggested I marry you.”
West coughs out a dry laugh. “Okay, well, in that case, my grandfather Albert Weston founded a grocery stand back in Harrisburg, Pennsylvania, in 1952, and—”
“We’re starting in 1952! Oh my God, I am so high.” I take another bite.
“And that grocery stand eventually became a storefront, and that storefront eventually became a grocery store chain, which—”
“Wait.” I set the bowl back on the table. Understanding is setting in. “A grocery store chain? Are you talking about Weston’s? Like the giant supermarket two blocks from here that has the good cheese I can’t afford?”
“I am.”
“Are you shitting my dick right now?”
West squints at me. “I—no? My father is Raymond Weston, son of Albert, and current owner and CEO of Weston Foods.”
West is the grandson of the Weston Foods empire? “You guys are like one of the biggest grocery chains in the country.”
“The sixth, in fact.”
“Holy shit. Holy shit! Wait—your first name is West.” I press my hand over my mouth and speak behind it. “Are you West Weston?”
“Anna. What?” West stares at me. “Are you being serious right now?”
“Is that a yes?”
“My first name is William. I go by Liam.” He stutters out a few sounds. “Sor—Di-did you really not know that?”
“Liam,” I say, and squint at him. Thick auburn-blond hair, those matching whiskey eyes. It seems like a Scottish name. I can picture him in a kilt, fists planted on his hips as he stares out at the Highlands before him. “Okay. I can see it.”
“Anna, are you telling me you didn’t know what my first name was the entire time you lived with me?”
“Everyone just called you West.”
His mouth opens and closes again. “You never read the legal documents I gave you? The ones I told you to take to an attorney and sign?”
“I was fake-marrying you because I couldn’t afford rent off campus. What made you think I could afford an attorney? It was a simple divorce, right?”
“Had I known you couldn’t afford an attorney, I would have—”
I cut in, laughing. “What college undergraduate who is so desperate for housing that she marries a stranger can afford an attorney?”
He gapes at me for a beat longer and then bends, resting his head in his hands. “Oh shit.”
“Oh shit what?”
“Oh shit as in, if you didn’t read any of our contracts, this is a mess. I think I need to go back to the beginning with you.”
“I definitely need to go back to the beginning,” I say, wiping my eyes. I mime an explosion at my temples. “Like—my mind is blown right now. You dressed like a middle schooler around the house. All basketball shorts, all the time. You drove a Honda! West, you’re incognito rich! No wonder Jake never told me anything about his family! I would have made him pay for Jersey Mike’s every fucking time! Wait. Why did you need to live on campus? If you’re the grandson of the founder of Weston’s, you could probably buy an entire apartment building on Sunset.”
“In theory, yes,” he says, shifting uncomfortably, “but just before we got married, I found myself suddenly having to pay for housing, tuition, and living expenses without a job.”
“What? Why?”
“My father supports his kids financially, provided we do what he wants. His plan had always been that I would finish my MBA, join Weston’s corporate office, and eventually take over his role at the company. But by the time I finished business school, I already knew I didn’t want to do that. I’d interned there for a year after college, and it was miserable, due to reasons that aren’t worth detailing now. I told my parents that I would be continuing school to get my PhD. My father and I had a huge fight where a lot of these old issues came up. He cut me off completely until I agreed to come work for him.”