Husband For Hire (A Billionaire Fake Marriage Romance) Read online

  I didn’t meet his eyes. “Yes.”

  “All right. I’ll go hang out with Keenan for a while. Just promise me you’ll come and find me before you….” He frowned and shook his head. “Before you do whatever it is you intend to do.”

  “I promise.”

  He quietly stepped out of the room. As soon as the door closed behind him, I regretted letting him leave. Regretted telling him to leave.

  I was being childish and mean, and he was right. I did run away when I was under stress. Only someone who’d spent a lot of time with me and subsequently knew me inside out would be able to see that and call me out on it.

  He was right.

  But I still meant what I said about feeling as if he wasn’t on my side anymore. I understood where he was coming from in not wanting me to blow up my life just to blow up this horrible show…but I just wished he would try and see my point of view for a second. I simply wouldn’t be able to live with myself in staying on this show and pretending that everything was fine, even for one more day.

  I pushed the suitcase out of the way, then flopped on the bed with a sigh. What the hell was I going to do? Blake was right—Ed and his Channel Nine cronies would take every last dime from me if I broke the contract. I knew Blake would offer to help me, but I wouldn’t accept a cent from him, especially when he was so against the idea of me breaking the contract in the first place.

  I sat up straight again. That was it. The contract!

  Ed said we were allowed to get out of the show without breaking our contracts via one of two ways: either by getting voted out (Blake’s idea, which I was against because it could take days or weeks) or by invoking the medical clause in the contract.

  I’d recently had my health messed with, courtesy of Mike screwing around with my birth control medication. It was a stretch, but I could try and claim that as a medical issue. And that’s what a lot of legal stuff was about, right? Trying to find legal loopholes in things, even if it was a stretch.

  I was no lawyer, but I was pretty sure I was onto something with this medical loophole, and they couldn’t deny that having my medication messed with was a big deal that could’ve had serious ramifications. They had to say yes, and obviously if I was allowed to leave the show for medical reasons, Blake would be allowed to as well, as my ‘husband’.

  So even if I couldn’t get off this island until the show was wrapped, I could still get Blake and myself off the show itself. Maybe we wouldn’t be able to tell everyone else what was going on (which freaking sucked) but at least we wouldn’t have to participate in the reality shit-show anymore.

  It wasn’t my ideal resolution, but it was better than nothing.

  I stood up and left the room, striding down the seemingly-endless halls of the first floor until I reached the producer’s office again. I’d considered finding Blake and telling him my idea, but I figured it would be best to talk to Ed first and see if the idea even had legs.

  I stopped outside the door and knocked firmly, plastering on my best ‘ready to negotiate’ face. There was no answer, so I knocked again, then turned the doorknob.

  “Ed? Can we talk?” I said, peering into the room.

  All the other producers were out of the room now, but Ed was still here. I could see the top of his head over the back of his chair, which was facing away from me. It looked like he was admiring an old painting of a lighthouse which hung on the wall.

  I guess he hadn’t heard me, because he didn’t respond.

  “Ed,” I said, louder this time. “Look, I’m sorry about blowing up at you earlier. I think I’ve thought of a way we can sort this out without anyone needing to sue anyone else.”

  He still didn’t respond, and I rolled my eyes. How childish. Here I was trying to fix things, and he was ignoring me? I was only a few feet away now. There was no way he couldn’t hear me.

  “I’m not leaving until we talk this through,” I said, taking a few more steps toward his desk. A pungent odor began to creep up my nostrils, and I nearly gagged. It smelled like a mixture of copper and fecal matter. “Ugh, what’s that smell?”

  I put my hand over my nose and mouth to block out the stench as a sense of creeping dread filled me, making all the hairs on my arm stand on end. This wasn’t normal; something was going on. Something very wrong.

  I took three more steps forward, all the way around to the other side of Ed’s desk. And then I screamed, a wailing keen that came from a primal place deep within me.

  Ed’s eyes were open, but they were completely lifeless, and there was a kitchen knife sticking out of his chest.

  He was dead.

  It wasn’t fake like all the other stuff that’d happened on the island so far, courtesy of the conniving showrunners. There were no special effects, no corn syrup as fake blood.

  He was really, truly dead.

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Blake

  I sat back on the couch in Keenan’s room, chatting with him about a ridiculous extreme fishing TV show that we both enjoyed as the hour drew close to dinnertime. I’d been here for about forty minutes now, giving Indi the space she said she needed.

  It was fine. I knew she’d calm down soon, and in the end, she’d make a good decision. She was fiery-tempered, but she was smart, and she’d realize that it wasn’t a good idea to blow up her entire life just to get out of this horrible show.

  The sky outside had been grey and threatening to rain earlier in the day, and by now a thunderstorm had well and truly rolled in. I could barely even hear Keenan speak over the pounding rain on the windows, and neither of us heard Donna and Amy enter the room until they were practically standing right in front of us.

  “Jesus, Blake, here you are! We’ve been looking for you everywhere!” Donna said. Her face was twisted with fear, and Keenan and I immediately jumped up.

  “What’s wrong?”

  Donna shook her head slowly, as if she couldn’t even believe what she was about to tell us. “Ed Kramer is dead,” she said.

  I suppressed the urge to roll my eyes. Oh, sure, now Ed was supposedly dead… just like Yuri was ‘dead’. Christ, this show was getting out of hand with its antics and fakery now.

  Of course Donna, Amy, and Keenan didn’t know it was all bullshit, though.

  “What happened?” I asked, trying not to roll my eyes.

  “Someone stabbed him in his office. And Blake…they’re arresting Indi!” Amy said, her green eyes shining with tears. “You have to help stop them!”

  I frowned. “What? What the fuck do you mean?”

  “She found his body, and the deputy on guard outside the inn heard her screaming. But then he called the sheriff for backup, and they just said they’re taking her in.”

  I shook my head, unable to believe what I was hearing. Was this another trick from the showrunners, or was Indi seriously being arrested right now? Were the sheriff and the other island cops even real, or were they all paid actors?

  I guess I was about to find out.

  “Thanks for finding me and letting me know,” I said grimly. “Where are they?”

  “Everyone’s down in the lobby,” Donna said. “Let’s go, quick!”

  We raced down to the lobby, where contestants, crew members and inn staff were milling around, faces etched with fear and confusion. A deputy was going around taking quick initial statements from people, and Indi was nowhere to be seen.

  “Outside,” Donna said, nodding toward the main doors of the inn.

  I burst through them to see Sheriff Irons shoving a handcuffed Indi into the back of a car. “Blake!” she cried out when she saw me running toward the car. “I didn’t do anything!”

  “I know!” I called back. I strode over to the sheriff. “Hey, Irons!”

  He assessed me with a wary gaze. “Who are you again?”

  “I’m her husband,” I said, nodding toward the back of the car, where Indi was now sitting. Her face looked as white as a ghost. “Now look, I know what’s going on, okay? I know the
showrunners are paying you to go along with whatever shit they tell you, but it’s gone too far now. Pretending Ed Kramer is dead and humiliating my wife like this is too fucking far. Let her go right now.”

  Irons stared at me shrewdly. “I’ll admit the network paid us to play along with certain things for a while,” he began. “Ain’t much work for cops on such a small island, after all. But right now I’m doing my real job. The one the government pays me for. I can assure you, Ed Kramer is dead.”

  I took a step back, shocked. This wasn’t fake? “I…what do you mean?”

  “I mean he’s as dead as a doorknob. Stabbed in the chest.”

  Jesus fucking Christ.

  “Why the hell are you arresting Indi?” I asked.

  He narrowed his eyes. “Well, she found the body. Pretty convenient. And as soon as I arrived after taking the deputy’s call, I heard from no less than four other producers and crew members that she got in a bit of an argument with Mr. Kramer only an hour ago. Apparently she told him that she was getting off this show no matter what. This could’ve been her way of doing it. Killing the exec producer is one way of getting the whole production shut down, I guess.”

  I stared at him, aghast. “Are you fucking serious? She didn’t kill him!”

  “Her last words to him could be interpreted as a threat of sorts,” Irons said. “I wouldn’t be a decent cop if I didn’t take her in as a suspect. We’re not laying any charges yet. Obviously we need to investigate further. But as of now, Indi is our prime suspect, and we’re going to hold her in custody.”

  I couldn’t believe it. This was absurd. I knew Indi wouldn’t hurt a fucking fly, and these moronic cops were arresting her for murder simply because she was in the wrong place at the wrong time. She wasn’t the sort of woman who would stab a man just to shut this terrible show down. Obviously someone else had done it, and they were looking at the wrong person.

  But shit, that could take days for them to figure out. I couldn’t let Indi rot away in a shitty custody cell until then. Not alone. She would be terrified, utterly beside herself.

  “Take me with her,” I said to the sheriff.

  He frowned. “What?”

  “I said take me with her. I’m her fucking husband, so if you’re gonna lock her up, you better damn well lock me up with her. I’m not letting her go through this bullshit by herself.”

  Irons scoffed. “You wanna spend the night in the lockup? Fine. Be my guest,” he said. He jerked his thumb toward the back door of his police cruiser. “Get in.”

  I opened the door and climbed in, and I heard it lock behind me a second later as Irons got in the front and pressed a central locking button.

  “You don’t have to come with me,” Indi whispered, her face stricken.

  “Yeah, I do,” I said softly. “Like I told him, I’m your husband. Doesn’t matter if it’s fake. Gotta support my wife, even if that means spending a night in jail with her.”

  She smiled despite the circumstances. “You’re the best fake husband ever,” she said, her voice slightly choked from emotion.

  I winked. “Don’t I know it,” I said jokingly. Nothing was funny about our current situation, but I needed to calm her down somehow, and the silly humor seemed to be keeping her from crying hysterically. “Don’t worry, baby girl… we’re gonna get this all sorted out. I promise.”

  She nodded and took a deep breath. “I know,” she finally said. “I trust you, Blake.”

  Those were the sweetest words I’d ever heard.

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  Indi

  The sheriff released me from the cuffs once he’d pushed me into the Fremantle Island police station’s small holding cell, and he smirked as he looked over at Blake, who’d entered the cell entirely of his own accord. “Can’t believe you’d willingly spend a night here, but hell… at least you support your wife. Actually kinda sweet,” he said in a gruff voice.

  He wasn’t wrong about that.

  I smiled at Blake, and he nodded back at me. He didn’t need to say a word; I could see the emotion flickering in his eyes. This was the ultimate in support. Even if I didn’t exactly deserve it, Blake was here for me.

  I had a distinct feeling he always would be.

  Sheriff Irons stepped out of the cell and locked it behind him. “One of my guys will bring you something to eat in a while.”

  He left, and I sat down on the small grey cot with a sigh. Heavy rain pattered on the police station roof, lending an increasingly depressive air to my already-glum mood.

  “Gotta say, I’ve stayed in nicer places,” Blake said, glancing around at the cold cell. “But with you, everything’s always five stars.”

  I gave him another watery smile. It was so sweet how he was trying to cheer me up and make me forget that I’d just been taken in on suspicion of murder. It was bad enough that I’d discovered the awful scene of Ed’s murder, but to then be accused of the crime…the whole thing was just a nightmare.

  “Thanks for trying to make me feel better. And thanks for coming with me like this. I don’t know what I’d do without you,” I said. “I’m really sorry about earlier. I was a total bitch.”

  “Nah, you were right,” Blake said, his eyes still twinkling. “And you were stressed. You’re allowed to vent.”

  I shook my head. “No, you were right. I wasn’t calm enough to make a proper decision, but I was being stubborn, like you said.”

  “Well, you were still right about the other stuff you said. I should’ve listened to you more and trusted that you’d come up with a plan. You’re smart as hell, Indi.”

  I laughed mirthlessly. “Not smart enough to keep myself out of trouble, though,” I said, gesturing around us. “You know, I went in to talk to Ed because I thought I came up with a plan to get us out of the show contracts. Just my luck that I get arrested for murder instead. If it wasn’t so freaking horrible, it’d almost be funny.”

  “No shit. So what was the plan?” he asked, furrowing his brows.

  I outlined my medical clause idea to him. A few minutes later, I had him nodding and agreeing with me.

  “Shit, yeah, that actually might’ve worked. I mean, it wouldn’t have gotten us off this fucking island. But at least we wouldn’t have had to take part in the show anymore.”

  I nodded. “That’s what I thought. So I went to talk to Ed about it, and well…” I trailed off for a few seconds. “I found him like that. Dead with a knife planted right in his chest.”

  Blake slid an arm around me. “That must’ve been terrible to see,” he murmured. “I’m sorry. I wish I was there for you.”

  “It’s my fault you weren’t. I’m the one who pushed you away and told you I needed space. You’re right—I do that. But not anymore,” I declared. “I’m not going to push you away. I’m not going to run away from my problems and issues anymore.”

  “Glad to hear it.”

  I looked around with a sigh. “I guess I couldn’t even try to run if I wanted to right now, seeing as I’m locked up here.”

  Blake squeezed my hand in a determined gesture. “Don’t worry, Indi. They’ll realize it wasn’t you soon, and you’ll be out of here in no time.”

  Before I could reply, a masculine voice interrupted us. “I wouldn’t be so sure of that.”

  We turned to see an officer standing in the room where the holding cell was. He had a small nametag embroidered onto the front of his uniform. Bennett.

  He tossed two cling-wrapped sandwiches through the bars, which Blake caught. “Sorry to eavesdrop. I was just bringing you two some dinner. But let me tell you, Indi… things aren’t looking good for you right now.”

  My heart began to pound. “Why not?” I asked.

  “Irons just radioed me. He and Deputy Reyes have just finished going through the CCTV footage from the hallway outside Ed Kramer’s office at the inn. It shows you two leaving half an hour before he died,” he said, pointing at Blake and me. “And then it shows all the producers who were meeting wi
th him leaving five minutes later. No one else is seen entering or exiting the office until you show up on the footage.”

  He pointed directly at me now, and my eyes widened. “That’s not possible. Someone else had to have gotten in there and hurt Ed. It wasn’t me!”

  “Footage doesn’t lie,” he said, though I detected a strangely reluctant tone in his voice.

  “Then the killer got in through a window or something!” Blake interjected.

  “That room has no windows,” Bennett said. He turned back to me. “But don’t worry, Miss, I’ve gotta say, something stinks about this case. Don’t tell Irons this, but I actually believe you didn’t do it.”

  “You do?” I said with a surprised air in my tone. Things were bad, but hey, at least Blake wasn’t my only supporter. This officer seemed to believe me, and Blake had told me on the way here in the police cruiser that Donna and Amy were on my side too. The fact that people were already on my side despite my arrest was a good sign, and right now, staying positive was very important.

  Bennett nodded. “Yeah. I just can’t believe you—or anyone else in your situation—would be that dumb. The details just don’t add up to me. But anyway, we’re working on it. If you’re really not guilty, we’ll figure out who is. And they won’t be able to go anywhere once we do. All transportation has been cut off to and from the island.”

  My forehead wrinkled in confusion. “Why?”

  “The weather.”

  “Oh, Christ, not this bullshit again!” Blake said. “We know you all lied to us last time about the supposed weather keeping us here.”

  “This time it’s for real,” Bennett said. “I don’t know if you noticed, but there’s a nasty gale blowing out there. Storm suddenly came on, and it looks like it won’t be letting up for a few days. It’s even worse out on the ocean. No one’s gonna be able to come or go for two days at the very least. All the phone lines have been knocked out too. All we have is the radio and generators for backup power.”