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Eden

“How are you feeling?” Magdalena tucked her feet beneath her and gazed at me over the rim of her wine glass.

“I’m fine.”

“ Fine fine, or fine ?”

I frowned at her. “What does that even mean?”

Magdalena laughed. “Fine—as in healthy and well? Or fine —as in fucked up, insecure, neurotic and emotional? F. I. N. E.”

“That’s a thing?”

“Sure it is. So, what’s the answer?”

I considered it. “I think,” I said slowly, “a mixture of both. I don’t know if it’s just because I haven’t really had time to process what happened, or if I’m just relieved it’s over.” I licked my lips. “I’m glad he’s dead. Does that make me a bad person?”

Magdalena shook her head. “Absolutely not. Rook didn’t really tell me much. He doesn’t like telling me about the darker side of humanity, he says I’ve lived through enough of it.” Her smile was warm and happy. “These men … they’re so …”

“Bossy?”

She laughed into her glass. “ Very bossy. But when they love, they do it with their entire being.”

She thought we were in love, that it was the reason we got married so fast. I liked Magdalena a lot, and I didn’t want to lie to her.

“Bishop isn’t in love with me. Our marriage isn’t real. It’s just a business agreement. I needed his help and didn’t have the money. He needed a …” I didn’t want to tell Bishop’s secrets. “Well, it suited his interests to have a temporary wife. I married him and in return he promised to give me a new life.”

Magdalena was silent for a long moment. “You know,” she said eventually. “I told you that I met Rook because I hired a fake boyfriend to come to dinner with me. I went to the wrong table, and according to him when he tells it, he was bored and thought I was amusing, so he took the job anyway.” She took a sip of wine. “But if he hadn’t, I’d be dead now.” She waved a hand. “The details don’t matter, the point I’m making is that the men of this family, they don’t like to admit to being human, to having feelings. It takes time to break through the walls they have around them. Walls they had to build to protect them from the lives they lead. But one thing I’ve learned, Eden, is that the kind of jobs you and I presented to them … they’re far too logical to just take that job unless something else is driving them.”

“Something else?”

“Do you really need me to spell it out? I’m dyslexic, remember, so that could go horribly wrong.” She grinned at my shocked laugh.

“You spelled fine well enough.”

“Only because of the acronym. I read it somewhere and it stuck in my head. Stop changing the subject.”

“I’m not!”

“You absolutely are. Answer me this. When this pretend marriage of yours is supposed to be over, what are you going to do?” She pointed a finger at me. “And look at that expression on your face! You don’t want it to be over.”

“I didn’t say that.” My protest was weak.

“You didn’t need to; it’s literally written all over your face. Have you slept with him?”

I sighed into my glass and gave up even trying to avoid her questions. “More than once.”

“I knew it!” Magdalena reached down for the wine bottle and filled up both of our glasses. “If he’s anything like Rook … you’re not going to experience something like that with anyone else.”

I covered my face with one hand. “I can’t believe we’re talking about this.”

“You like him.”

“I wasn’t supposed to.”

“But you do .”

“Fine, yes. I do.”

She clapped her hands, spilling wine over her fingers, and laughed. “And this is why I don’t often drink.” She lifted her hand and licked her fingers. “I have an idea.”

“What kind of idea?”

“A perfect one!”

“That doesn’t fill me with confidence.” I eyed her.

She grinned back at me. “You said you have a contract.”

I nodded.

“Do you have a copy of it?”

“Upstairs. Bishop insisted on it.”

“Of course, he did.” She rolled her eyes. “Bishop won’t make a single move without a contract detailing every step. You’re going to have to break him of that.”

“He said he wasn’t spontaneous and that he likes to plan things.”

“He does. But,” she leaned forward, “he broke that when he decided to marry you, so there’s hope for him.”

“Does Rook like to plan?”

“Yes, and he still stepped up and pretended to be my boyfriend. So, you see, there’s a pattern here … and we can use it to our advantage. If you want to keep him, that is.”