Damon leaned back in his leather chair, plucked at his suspenders, and studied me. “Is this about the merger? We already worked on revisions. You were supposed to get me another meeting.”

“Listen, I see the potential value you bring to Martin Enterprises. And we both know mine. But the board is still blind to it because of certain… prejudices.”

“Your father’s, you mean,” he said gruffly, running his thumbs under the suspender straps.

“Yes, unfortunately.” I paced his office, eyeing the bookshelves full of client binders and coworker event photos that seemed more like a company holiday gift than his personal selection. 

Damon had always been that way. I gave him a fancy framed photo of us once for an anniversary, and he liked it, but wanted one without being so done up. “Just us. Natural,” he’d implored. I sent him one of our goofy selfies and he’d used it as his lock screen for months. I wondered what he used now as his lock screen...

“I can’t change how your father sees me,” Damon said, his voice even.

“No, but we can use his stubbornness to merge our companies.”

“What? How?”

I spun around and presented my upturned palms. “We can get married!”

Damon’s lips drew down in a tiny V and his pupils shrunk to almost nothing.

Huffing, I crossed my arms. “It’s not that horrifying! Trust me, we’ll both get what we need.”

“What are you thinking?” He stood so abruptly that his chair bounced against the side of his desk. “We can’t just get married!”

“Why not?” Heat flushed my face and chest. “You don’t like me?”

He shot me a dark look.

“Don’t you like money?”

His incredulous, fiery laugh disarmed me as he ran a hand through his hair. “Almost ten years after you dump me—”

“I didn’t just—”

“We have a few drinks, and next thing I know, you want to marry me?!”

“It’s not like I’m in love with you or anything!” I insisted, spreading my stance. “And you obviously don’t love me. We both need something—”

“I don’t need to get married.” The tendons in his neck throbbed as he stared at me, burning.

“Well, you need me if you want this merger. Think of what this money could do for you—for your family. If you give me a chance...” I ushered him towards his chair and subtly jerked my chin at the glass wall where his coworkers gawked at us. “I can explain a few things.”

He jabbed a button on his desk. Window shades sprouted up from some hidden compartment under the floor and gave us privacy.

“Wow, that’s amazing! I wonder if I can get those installed at Martin Enterprises. Not that I’m going back—”

“Explain,” Damon demanded.

I took a deep breath and braced myself on the corner of his desk. “You know how I found your proposal on my dad’s desk? Well, I also found a legal declaration that I’d only get the rest of my shares before his passing if I got married.”

“That’s…”

I pulled up the pictures I took on my phone so I didn’t have to see the confusion and possibly pity in Damon’s gaze. “Dad wanted me to have a partner so I wouldn’t have to sacrifice my prime years. So I could have it all. He thought I’d want everything at once—work, family. Almost half the new shares would go to my husband so there wouldn’t be any jealousy.”

“What?!”

“I know.” 

Wait—was he shocked about the idea of anyone being jealous of me or my dad’s old-fashioned thinking?

Damon took a deep breath, the red fading from his complexion the longer he studied the pictures. “Alina, I can’t—I can’t just take half your shares.”

I let out a humorless laugh. He didn’t even like me and he was already more thoughtful than my last husband. “Technically, they’re not mine. They’re my dad’s.”

“And he’s willing to give them away as a wedding gift?”

“You know my dad,” I replied. “He won’t change his mind on anything. But if he sees how well we’re doing personally and professionally, maybe. I mean, unless we get those shares, we won’t have a fighting chance of saving Martin Enterprises.”

“Save it from what?” Damon edged closer. “Are you close to being bankrupt?”

“No, it’s fine for now!” Panicked, I twisted around, waving at the office. “I meant ‘save’ it from missing opportunities like merging with the Gibbons Group, obviously.”

“Huh.” He frowned, eyeing me. “So that’s the only requirement? We don’t need his approval or anything?”

“Not legally.” I drummed my fingers on Damon’s desk. 

He handed myphone back to me. “Why don’t we just go to town hall today, then?”

I recoiled. “Wh—what?!”

He gathered his phone and bag. “If that’s all we need—”

“We have to at least fake it’s a real relationship!” I insisted, blocking his path.

He inched close enough I could smell his soap. “Why? Isn’t this a relationship of ‘convenience’? A business transaction, so to speak?”

I stared him down, trying to calm my racing heartbeat. At least he was willing to get married. “How well do you think the merger will go down if both companies know we used a legal loophole to grab my dad’s shares?”

“If they’re making more money, they’ll probably be happy. And it’s not like we’re taking advantage of each other—your dad set the terms.”

“Okay, but I care about those people and what they think of me! Same as your company.” I gently pushed his chest to give us another few inches of breathing room. “When I lead, I want them to be able to trust me.”

He nodded, serious. “And you trust me?”

“Mostly.” More than any of my other options, at least. “But I need certain assurances that you won’t use the shares, our history, or your feelings about my dad against the company.”

With the whisper of fabric, Damon took off his tie, unbuttoned his shirt, and rolled up his sleeves. “Follow me.”