"Marry you?" Nicolette heard the shock in her voice.
"Yes," Alaric said. The smirk on his face widened, and she just wanted to slap it off his face.
She stepped back, shaking her head. "I… can't…"
"Oh come on." He chuckled, the amusement in his eyes told her he was enjoying this.
Could she blame him? She was the one who had walked in without a proper plan, hoping on luck and some miracle that it would all work out.
He stood up, and her breath hitched. Despite the confusion in her chest, she looked at him.
Handsome. Tall. Blue eyes that she could drown in. Yet so arrogant, so smug.
"Sweetheart, I'm a busy man. I don't make investments without collateral," he said casually, as if he had known her for years.
Anger rose in her chest. "It is not an investment, it's an ass… assistance, and I'm not your sweetheart."
He leaned forward and buttoned his suit jacket. "Fine. Not an investment, but a collaboration. I help you, and you help me."
She eyed him suspiciously. What did a man like him need from her?
As if he read her thoughts, he explained. "You need the money, I need someone the public trusts."
She chuckled. He thought the public trusted her? If only he read the tabloids, she was sure he wouldn't be saying this.
His smirk faded. "So, what do you say?"
She lifted her head and looked in his eyes, not wanting him to see how much he unsettled her. "It's ridiculous."
Alaric's jaw tightened. "Oh, but you walking in here asking for money isn't?"
She gasped, offended by his statement, but quickly recovered, yet it burned inside her.
He was right. She had basically asked him for his money, yet she had the audacity to act offended?
But still, marriage was a stretch. It was too much.
"At least it's not as ridiculous as asking me to marry you. I don't even know you," she said, trying to control the conversation.
He scoffed. "If you think I want you to marry me so I can get to know you, then you're delusional, sweetheart."
She looked away, not wanting him to see the emotions in her eyes.
"It's a partnership. You don't have to do it forever. One year and you're done," he continued, his mouth twisting in irritation. "You get your money. I get my… whatever."
One year.
One year of marriage to this… man.
His money would help a lot, but at what cost? Living with a stranger for a year? She wasn't that desperate.
She looked at him, watching as he drummed his fingers on the table impatiently. She came for help, maybe even to spite her father. but marriage was definitely not part of the plan.
She couldn't be married, not even as a lie, and definitely not to a blue-eyed, muscular, arrogant man.
There had to be a better way than this.
He cocked his head as he settled in his chair. "So? What do you have to say, Miss Voss?"
Nicolette exhaled deeply before speaking. "Thank you for your offer, but no. I do hope you find someone to help… with your whatever."
Surprised flashed in his eyes, but he quickly buried it as his jaw tightened. "Have a good day, Miss Voss," he said, dismissively.
Nicolette frowned at his dismissal, still she waited, hoping he had something else to offer—something less ridiculous than marriage. But when he turned his chair away, she finally got the message and walked out of his office.
The moment she slid into her car, her phone rang. She reached for it. Suzie was calling.
"Hey," she answered.
"Hey love. How did it go?" Suzie asked, concern filling her voice.
Nicolette didn't have the heart to tell Suzie the truth, so she diverted. "Not so great. I couldn't see Julius."
"Oh." Suzie's voice dropped. "I'm sorry love."
"It's okay."
"Come back to my place," Suzie said softly. "We'll find a way out."
"Alright," Nicolette said, ending the call.
With a sigh, she started her car and drove out of the Allens' premises. She couldn't burden Suzie, that was not an option.
With her hand tightened around the steering wheel, Nicolette racked her brain. What could she do now?
She had no gallery, no money to get by, and now the Allens' mission was futile.
"Fuck you Robert!" she gritted, the pain in her chest raw and hard.
He had taken her back to square one with one brutal move, and now she didn't know how to move forward. Her chest tightened, and tears welled up in her eyes.
She let them fall, hoping they would relieve her of her pain and maybe a solution could even come after. But when the tears dried, nothing came to her mind. No great idea, just emptiness.
Nicolette drove ahead, to nowhere in particular. After all, her car was the only remaining property she could enjoy at the moment.
Her car!
The two words slumped in her mind. She could sell her car, and get some money.
It was a brilliant idea, yet she felt empty already without the piece. She shook her head, shaking the feelings away. She had to survive, one way or another. Besides, she could always buy another one.
Nicolette found a nearby restaurant and stopped in the parking lot. Then she brought out her phone and dialed her neighbor, Sam. He was a car dealer, he should be able to help.
Sam picked up almost immediately. "Hey, Lettie."
"Hey, Sam. If I want to sell my car, how much do you think it's worth?" she asked, getting straight to the point.
"Uhmm…. your car?" She heard the confusion in Sam's voice. "Why? You could ask for a loan—"
"I'm in too much debt already," she cut in. "There's the gallery rent, my house rent—I can't add to that. So how much?"
Sam paused for a while before he spoke. "A thousand bucks, max."
"A thousand?" she shrieked. "That's nothing."
"Your car isn't in great shape, Lettie. It needs repairs, painting, many other things. Even after fixing it, I can't sell it for more than $3,000."
Her stomach knotted. "Oh, Sam."
"I'm just being honest," Sam said, sounding genuinely.
Nicolette felt the pain strain her heart as tears threatened to fall again. "Thank you, Sam. I'll call you back." She ended the call before he could say anything.
She sighed, feeling a headache form on top of her head. She just wanted to sleep and restart her day. Maybe it was time to go back to Suzie's house.
As Nicolette started the car, the engine coughed. Confused, she tried it again and again until her eyes fell on the dashboard.
"No, no, no," she yelped.
Her fuel tank was empty! She had no way to get back without inconveniencing Suzie. She got down from the car and kicked it.
"God!" she groaned as a sharp pain entered her legs.
Nicolette fell to knees, her heart shattering, as she finally gave in and dialed Suzie's number for help.
"Pick up, Suzie," she said, as the phone rang. But after three calls, Suzie didn't answer her phone.
That was it. That was the final blow.
There was nobody else to call, nobody else who could help.
Nicolette sighed and dialed Sam's number again. "Hey, come get the car," she said flatly, and gave him the restaurant address.
Some moments later, Sam came to meet her.
"Hey, Lettie—"
"Here." Nicolette gave him the keys. She didn't want any pleasantries.
Sam nodded like he understood her pain, he gave her the cash and left.
She swallowed and looked away as Sam took her car. That car was the last thing her father ever gave her. And it was gone too.
If he saw the car now, he would sneer. Make hurtful comments. Tell her, like always, how useless she was without him.
The afternoon breeze hit her face, warm and inviting, still it did nothing to calm her racing nerves. She bit her lip, trying to steady her breathing.
"It's over," she said defeatedly. Her father always won.
She tucked the cash notes in her bag. One thousand dollars couldn't pay any of her debt, hell it would last her for a week or two, and then what?
She couldn't take Alaric Allens's absurd offer, and she couldn't even bother Suzie either.
There was only one thing left to do.
Nicolette swallowed as she pulled out her phone again.
"Hey, Hills," she said, her voice cracking. "Can you come pick me up? I'm ready to come home now."