Chapter 4 FOUR
The address Gerald Morris sent her was in Midtown, one of those glass towers that probably had its own zip code. Lennox stood outside at 1:55 PM, staring up at reflective windows that showed nothing but sky and clouds, and seriously considered turning around.
She didn't, obviously. Because apparently self preservation wasn't her strong suit anymore.
The lobby was all marble and modern art that looked like someone had thrown paint at a canvas and called it genius. A security guard who probably earned more than she used to glanced at her Target jeans and clearance rack blouse like she'd tracked mud across his pristine floor.
"I'm here to see Gerald Morris," Lennox said, trying to sound like she belonged here. "Law offices of Morris & Kline."
He checked his tablet with the enthusiasm of someone who'd rather be literally anywhere else. "Forty second floor. Elevators are to your left."
The elevator was the kind that made her ears pop. Lennox watched the numbers climb and tried not to think about how she could still leave. She could walk out right now, figure something else out. There had to be another way.
Except there wasn't. She'd stayed up until 3 AM last night researching her options, and they all sucked. Public defenders were overworked and underpaid. The evidence against her was damning. Ryan had disappeared completely, she'd gone to his apartment and found it cleaned out, like he'd never existed. Her own lawyer would cost retainers she couldn't afford, and even then, the case would take months she didn't have.
Prison or marriage. Those were her choices.
The elevator doors opened onto reception that looked like it belonged in a magazine. Everything was sleek and expensive and designed to make normal people feel poor. A woman with perfect hair and a perfect suit smiled at her with perfect teeth.
"Lennox Rivers for Gerald Morris," Lennox said.
"Of course. Right this way."
She was led down a hallway lined with paintings past offices where lawyers did lawyer things behind glass walls, to a conference room at the end that had views of Manhattan that made her dizzy.
Gerald Morris stood when she entered, he was alone. He gestured to the chairs arranged around a massive mahogany table that looked insanely expensive.
"Miss Rivers. Thank you for coming." He waited until she sat before taking his own seat. "Can I get you anything? Coffee? Water?"
"I'm fine." She wasn't fine. Her hands were shaking and her stomach felt like she'd swallowed rocks, but accepting refreshments felt too normal for whatever this was.
Gerald pulled out a folder, apparently he had an endless supply, and spread papers across the table between them.
"Let's go over the terms," he said. "The contract is comprehensive, but I'll walk you through the key points."
Lennox nodded, even though her heart was trying to escape through her throat.
"First, the marriage lasts a minimum of one year from the date of signing. During that time, you'll live with Mr. Westbrook in his primary residence..."
"Wait." Lennox's voice came out sharper than she intended. "Live with him? Like, in the same house?"
Gerald looked at her like she'd asked if water was wet. "Yes, Miss Rivers. You'll be his wife. Married couples typically live together."
"Right, but..." Lennox's throat felt tight. "I thought this was just for appearances. Public events and photos and stuff. I didn't realize I'd actually have to live there."
"The marriage needs to appear legitimate," Gerald explained patiently. "That means sharing a residence. You can't be his wife if you're living in Queens while he's in his penthouse. People would notice."
Of course they would. Lennox pressed her palms against her thighs, trying to steady herself. Living with a complete stranger. Living with Callum Westbrook. Sleeping under the same roof as the man whose company she'd been hacking.
This was getting more complicated by the second.