Page 15 of Earned Husband

Dejawas the woman Alex had decided was destined to become the first Thayer wife since my mother had married into the family decades ago. He was working on a lot more than just another merger between three families, and most of it involved my direct and very personal future.

Fuck.

I’d asked him ayearago if I could get in on the Westwood arranged marriage tradition. He’d been happy about it, having discovered he had a knack for pairing people up. When I’d left their house that night, he’d told me not to worry and that he couldn’t say how long it would take but that he’d find the right one.

Oh, and he found her, alright. I just don’t know what she’s going to think about it.

I rubbed a hand across my jaw, genuinely unable to believe that this was happening. As luck would have it, just when my head spinning reached maximum velocity, she finally glanced over at me. “Did you eat bad scallop or something? Or am I going to make you sneeze again?”

“I’m fine.” Immediately, I dropped my hand and forced a smile, despite the sense of dread blossoming deep inside me.

Neither Deja or I would have a choice in this matter, but in the marrow of my bones, I knew she didn’t know about it yet. Deja had no idea about the conversations that had been happening behind closed doors and without our involvement.

Alex finally finished his toast and sat back down, immediately leaning forward. “There will be a meeting on your schedule in two weeks. It’s mandatory.”

Naturally.

“With whom?” I asked discreetly, but I suspected I already knew the answer. The amused expression on Khaled’s face told me that the patriarch of the Saad family was about to pay me a little visit—and that it might be the most important meeting of my life.

CHAPTER 8

DEJA

Afew days after dinner on the yacht, I found myself settling into slower days at Gabrielle’s house. Ashanti, the kids, and I weren’t keeping to any kind of daytime routine, lazing around inside or exploring the city at a leisurely pace instead.

Historically, I wasn’t particularly good at vacations. In my family, even free time had a way of being taken up by responsibility—either toward one of our many companies or the family itself—but Chicago wasn’t like that. There were no aunts, cousins, family friends, or business associates here who needed me for anything and everything all at once.

If I wanted, I could wander into a café with a book and spend two hours alone. As far as I was concerned, that kind of freedom was nothing short of luxurious and I was soaking up every minute of it.

This morning, however, Ashanti stood in the kitchen while Amari and Zain circled around her, bouncing on the balls of their feet and talking excitedly.

“They have dinosaurs at the museum,” Zain was saying as Ashanti stuffed another package of nuts into her backpack. “They’ve even got a T-Rex.”

“I’m not so sure about that,” Ashanti said, clearly trying to add expectation management to her multi-tasking schedule. She grabbed the plate Amari had barely touched for breakfast and sighed as she turned toward her. “You need to eat. We’re not stopping for a snack before we even get there.”

Amari glared at the eggs and toast standing between her and her favorite treats being packed into her mom’s backpack, but she finally took the plate with resignation etched into her little features and climbed onto a stool at the island. Meanwhile, Zain had lifted his hands into T-Rex claws and was stomping around the kitchen, roaring.

If only I could live with half the zest for life as a five-year-old boy.

I turned back to Ashanti, my fingers wrapped around a cup of fragrant tea and my hip cocked against the counter. “The children’s museum, huh? You might not be sure if they’re going to have a T-Rex, but I’m not sure about this whole plan. It sounds like the kind of place where flu germs took over twenty years ago and are still holding the fort.”

Ashanti laughed. “We’re meeting Adeline there. She assured me that her kids have never gotten sick from the museum.”

I arched a disbelieving eyebrow at her, mentally scanning my memories of the dinner until I remembered Adeline. She’d been one of the many Westwoods in attendance, warm, easy to talk to, and effortlessly kind.

I remembered her daughters too, especially Lu, who’d spent a while questioning me about Egypt. It felt like she suspected the country’s entire existence was an elaborate hoax.

The memory of her interrogation made me smile. “I like Lu. She’s about Zain’s age, right?”

“Give or take a few months,” Ashanti said. “Amari and Jennifer hit it off too. The kids have all been begging to see eachother again, so to the children’s museum we go. Are you almost ready to leave?”

I nodded but silently questioned my own intentions for tagging along today. My original plan had been to wander around downtown by myself, maybe do a little shopping, find a quiet café, or sit somewhere with my camera and just snap candid shots, but then, I’d overheard Ashanti last night telling her mom that Colin might be joining them.

As soon as that information had come to light, I’d altered my plans, asking if she needed an extra pair of eyes to watch the kids. I didn’t even really know why, just that the idea of seeing him outside of a controlled environment was undeniably amusing.

Despite the amount of siblings he had, I was curious to see how he would fare in a building filled with sticky surfaces, screaming children, and educational exhibits that would probably be questioned by the little ones with the tenacity of grad students defending their doctoral theses.

“Alright,” Ashanti said once Amari had shoveled an obviously acceptable amount of eggs into her mouth. “Let’s get going. We don’t want to be late.”