Bailey sat in the VIP booth of the Palmers, an upscale restaurant in the city. She nervously played with the edge of the linen napkin in her lap, her fingers twitching. The candlelight glows softly, casting a warm and serene atmosphere around her, but she felt the exact opposite. There was nothing warm or calm in her heart.
Her heart raced as she glanced at the entrance again. Margaret was taking so long, prolonging the tension. Every second that passed by was like an elephant sitting on her chest.
This was her only option. Nothing else.
"Excuse me," a waitress interrupted her thoughts, saying, "Here's your glass of water."
She smiled and nodded. "Thank you." Bailey gulped it down; her throat was too tight and dry. She needed it. Finally, after another ten minutes, Margaret entered. Relief and dread were on Bailey's nerves at the same time.
Margaret strode in like she owned the place, her heels clicking against the marble floor. She wore a black dress that hugged her form, signifying her wealth and power.
It's a power play, Bailey thought. Margaret desired to assert her dominance. Bailey smoothed her skirt, her nerves frayed at the edges.
Margaret stared at her, and with a small nod, she acknowledged her presence as she sashayed toward her. Bailey stood up as Margaret reached the booth, smiling politely, but she felt stiff as hell.
"Mrs. Reid, thank you so much for meeting me."
Margaret gave her a small smile, her eyes assessing her from head to toe. She raised her chin. "Of course, Bailey. I know you will come around eventually."
Bailey swallowed, unable to say anything, and just nodded uncomfortably.
Margaret sat and crossed her legs before gesturing for Bailey to sit down. She looked so sure that Bailey would fold, as if there was no uncertainty that the latter would eventually agree to her offer.
Bailey clenched her fists in nervousness. In her head, she rehearsed this conversation multiple times. But now that Margaret sat in front of her, the speech she planned flew out the window. They vanished entirely. Bailey leaned forward slightly, her voice steady as her heart pounded like crazy as she admitted, "I need the money."
Perhaps it was best to be blunt, Bailey thought.
"I'll agree to being Caleb's pretend fiancee."
Margaret's expression didn't change, save for a small flicker of emotion in her eyes. A smile of satisfaction graced her lips as she grabbed her designer handbag. Bailey followed the movement of her hands, nervously fidgeting under the table.
She pulled a checkbook out. Bailey's eyes widened a fraction when she read the amount: $5 million dollars. She held her breath. Margaret signed it and pushed it toward her but stopped in the middle of the table.
Bailey stiffened, waiting for her next words. There was no way it would be this easy.
"I'm glad we're on the same page," Margaret said, staring Bailey dead in the eyes. "But… I need this to be formal. Not just verbal. I had our lawyers draft a contract. It outlines everything you'll need to do, and importantly, the things you won't do."
Margaret pulled out a folder from her bag and handed it to her.
Bailey hesitated for a beat as she picked up the folder. This thing felt so heavy, as if it weighed a thousand pounds. She couldn't believe that she got to this point in her life. She carefully opened it and read the pages. The clauses on it... felt like a noose tightening around her neck.
"Let's make this clear between us, Bailey," Margaret continued, her voice sharp and direct to the point. "I'm doing this for Caleb's swift recovery. Right now, my son needs all the stability he can get. He sees you as that person, and frankly, I think you can keep Isabelle away for good. You will be his fiancee in name, but once he's healed, you will leave him alone. Caleb's future doesn't lie with you."
Her statement felt like a slap to Bailey's face, but she kept her face neutral as if it didn't sting. She nodded as if this was just a business translation on her part. A small part of Bailey wanted to tell Margaret that she was doing this because she loved Caleb and not just for the money.
She wanted to tell her that she also wanted the best for Caleb. The five years she spent with him fostered the silent, enduring love she had for him. Margaret wouldn't care, though, and it might jeopardize the arrangement. To someone like Margaret, Bailey was a tool to be used to solve her problem.
"The money?" Bailey looked at the check, focusing on practical things to stop her emotions from bursting.
Margaret leaned back and shoved the money to her side of the table. "This is enough to cover your debt. As for your father and grandmother's medical expenses, as long as you do your end of the deal, I'll make sure they're provided with the best medical attention."
This amount of money was more than Bailey could ever make in her lifetime. This was enough to pay the loan sharks and get them off her family's backs. Finally, she could start anew. As for the medical expenses, Bailey trusted Margaret to do her part as long as it was in the contract.
Margaret tapped her finger on the table, her eyes narrowing at Bailey. "Caleb… he's a good man. I know everything about my son and the people around him, including your delusions of grandeur such as love."
Bailey paled. She wanted to laugh and cry at the same time. To Margaret, her love was a delusion.
"You're such a loyal assistant, and Caleb can't ask for more. But don't ever mistake that loyalty for a place beyond what's required of you. Once he recovered, Bailey, you will disappear from his life for good. You'll forget you ever met him; leave your job and everything that symbolizes your involvement in his life."
Bailey's chest tightened, but she nodded, forcing her emotions to be kept under lock and key. Love was something she could never have. Someone like her… didn't deserve it.
Nodding at Bailey's silence, Margaret smiled amicably. "I like it that you understand. Now, according to the contract, you'll be with Caleb 24/7 during his recovery period. You'll live with him, take care of him, oversee his medications, and make sure he attends his therapy sessions. Be the best fiancee he can ever have." Margaret grabbed Bailey's hand tightly, her nails digging into the latter's skin. "Except, don't ever cross the line. You'll remain in your place as his perfect assistant and fake fiancee. Got it?"
"Yes," Bailey replied, taking a deep breath. Nothing else mattered as long as she could save her family and help Caleb. She reached for her bag, took out a pen, and signed the contract. Scrawling her name on it felt like signing her life away.
Margaret clapped, satisfied. "Great! I'm glad it's you, Bailey, and not some random woman."
Immediately, Margaret stood up as if she couldn't wait to leave. She smoothed her dress and told her, "After you finish attending to your personal matters, go back to the hospital. Caleb needs you."
Bailey nodded, clutching the check in her hand like a lifeline. "Thank you, Mrs. Reid."
Margaret left without a word, leaving Bailey speechless and breathless.
For a while, Bailey just stared at the check in front of her. She sealed the deal, and it felt like signing away she held dear. She agreed to be Caleb's fiancee and broke her heart to pieces in the process. Just how much could she take?
Their relationship would never be real. Even now, she finds it difficult to separate her feelings. How could she make sure that her heart wouldn't get in the way?
There were so many questions and what-ifs in her head, but she buried them all down. Her family needed her. Bailey grabbed the check and her things, then left the restaurant.
Bailey hailed a taxi and went home. When she walked in through the door, she found Marcus on the couch. He pressed a bag of ice on his swollen cheek. There was a streak of blood on his lips, and he was as white as a sheet.
"Marcus!" Bailey rushed over, panicking. "What happened to you? What happened here?"
"Those thugs came back," Marcus replied as she clutched Bailey's arm. They're not happy with the delay. I'm sorry, I couldn't protect Grandma Carol. They took her away."
Bailey gasped, shaking. Worry gripped her. She needed to save her grandma immediately. It's already afternoon! Then she asked about her dad, her blood running cold.
"What about Dad?"
"They didn't touch your dad, thank God," Marcus informed her. "He's asleep in his room. The fight was too much for him."
Bailey's hand shook as she confirmed. He slept like a baby.
"Sorry again." Marcus sounded so down.
"It's not your fault," Bailey hugged Marcus. "Thank you for everything, Marcus!"
Marcus embraced her back, wailing, "I was so scared!"
Bailey smiled softly and wiped his tears. "Okay now. Can you look after dad for me? I'll go pay them."
Marcus nodded. "You can count on me."
___
Bailey rushed down the dark street, her breath coming in short, sharp bursts as she neared a shady part of town. She looked around, clutching her bag as she got the money in it. The street lights flickered above her, casting eerie shadows on the road.
Just as she rounded the corner, a car screeched out of nowhere, speeding toward her. The headlights blinded her, and she froze, her heart slamming against her chest.
The sound of screeching tires filled the air as the car hurtled toward her and Bailey screamed.