The elegant chrome of luxury cars and the striking displays of jewelry stores along Fifth Avenue gleamed in the late afternoon sun. The heir to the Thorne diamond empire, Jackson Thorne, strolled among the affluent people with a level of comfort so ingrained it was almost boring. Even though his fitting suit, which had a thousand-dollar bill almost sewn into every stitch, fit him like a second skin, he didn't feel comfortable in it.
Jackson wasn't there to socialize or go shopping. His motivation came from his mother's desperation—she was a socialite who measured her achievement by perusing high-end labels and society publications. The grandchild she so much desired was expected to be born to Jackson, the faithful son. The problem? Despite his money and good looks, Jackson had not met anyone who even slightly aroused his curiosity, much less inspired a desire for marriage and establishing a family.
A gust of wind swept a newspaper across his path, momentarily impairing his view. He bumped into someone as he reached out to get it.
"Oh, I'm so sorry!" A woman's mildly comic voice rose above the clamor of the city.
Jackson was left dumbfounded by what he saw as he looked up. She was not your usual Fifth Avenue stuff—sophisticated, formulaic stuff. Her face was framed by a plethora of flaming curls in her hair, and her hazel eyes had a mischievous glint. Her mismatched ensemble, which featured a flowy floral dress underneath a vintage leather jacket, gave the impression that she was a free spirit unconstrained by the stuffy social mores of the wealthy.
Jackson assured him, "No worries," seeming surprised by his sudden worry. He took up the sheet, leaving his fingers smeared with ink. "Here you go."
With a smile that curled the corners of her eyes, she accepted the paper. She said, "Thank you." "Looks like today's gossip isn't worth the paper it's printed on, huh?"
Her bold appearance drew his attention. He couldn't remember the last time he'd heard a lady talk to him without hinting at his money.
A faint smile spread across his face. "Perhaps not," he replied. "But then again, who needs gossip when you can people-watch on Fifth Avenue?"
Her eyes gleamed with delight. "It's enough to say. The personalities are still interesting, in my opinion.
They struck up a casual conversation about the individuals they were seeing, the colorful socialite with her entourage of poodles and the stressed-out businessman glued to his phone. Her opinions were insightful and her humor sharp, providing a refreshing change of pace from the boring speeches he was usually made to sit through.
He felt a sudden, intense hunger in his stomach. "Would you care to join me for lunch?" he blurted out, shocked at his own immaturity.
Her eyebrows shot up in surprise. It was not her usual practice to accept an invitation to lunch and to strike up a conversation with an absolute stranger. But something about Jackson, the genuine curiosity in his eyes, made her hesitate.
"I actually," she began, but then stopped. She raised her shoulders and let out a deep breath. "Not at all? But I have to admit, I eat a lot."
For a moment, Jackson's genuine laugh overpowered the din of the city. "Challenge accepted." He led her to a quaint café tucked down a side street, and his heart raced with a tight exhilaration he hadn't felt in years.
Warm mugs of coffee and platters full of sandwiches helped them get to know each other better. Jackson discussed the demanding expectations his family had of him and the pressure to lead a life in which he wasn't quite interested. Skylar responded by disclosing information about her life on the periphery, such as her strange jobs and improvised dwellings. Her past was shrouded in mystery; she made references to it but never fully disclosed it.
As the afternoon wore on, the conversation got deeper. They discovered they had similar tastes in literature and history. He was captivated by her strength and ability to find beauty in the unlikeliest places in life. For her part, she felt that underlying his well-preserved exterior lay a vulnerability, a need for something more than the golden cage he inhabited.
The café was about to close when they ultimately came out, blinking into the twilight. There was an odd silence that lingered between them, filled with keen awareness. Inspired by the events of the day, Jackson uttered something that surprised even him.
"Skylar, I know this sounds weird, but I need a wife," he stated in a low, raspy voice. Jackson ended haltingly, the absurdity of his proposal bearing down on him like a lead weight. He prepared himself for the expected rejection and her laughing.
Skylar didn't laugh, though. Rather, she frowned thoughtfully as she watched him. "A wife?" she repeated, her tone very serious.
Warming to her inspection, he said, "It's a long story." He gave an explanation of his situation, his mother's persistent efforts to find him a partner, and the oppressive pressure to fit in. He expressed his wish for a life that was less typical and in which love wasn't something he had to purchase with his riches.
Skylar paid close attention, her eyes never straying from his face. When he was done, there was a long pause in which only the blaring of a taxi in the distance could be heard.
"Interesting," she at last uttered, a slow smile dancing over her lips. "And what exactly would this wife do?"
Jackson laid out his bold scheme. In an effort to please his family, he suggested a makeshift marriage that would last six months. He would provide her a life of luxury and a sizeable chunk of money in return, releasing her from her meager means.
Skylar smiled, a tinge of mischief showing on her lips. "So, you're basically looking for a beard?"
Jackson flinched. "Not precisely. It would not consist solely of a show. We would cohabitate, go to social gatherings, and behave as a loving couple."
With a hint of inquisitiveness, she questioned, "And what happens after six months?"
"Thereafter, we part ways," Jackson stated, inhaling deeply. No conditions imposed."
Skylar smiled a little too nervously. Undoubtedly, the thought of living in luxury was alluring. However, the idea of getting into a loveless marriage—even a brief one—left her with a bad taste in her mouth. She wasn't some gold-digging socialite that he could throw away after a while.
"I must confess, Mr. Thorne," she murmured, her tone returning to its piercing edge, "the idea is definitely... unconventional." But let me be direct. Why me? There are undoubtedly a ton of women in your social circle who would be thrilled to become your bride."
"There are," said Jackson. But I'm not as interested in any of them as you are. You're unique. You are authentic."
His comments resonated with her. Being referred to as "real" felt good in a society that was so preoccupied with appearances. His genuine desperation, which reflected her own desire for a better life, was evident to her.
Her thoughts began to work in gear. As absurd as it sounded, this offer might hold the key to helping her get out of her current predicament. She might finally get back on her feet and follow her ambition of opening a bookstore with the money he gave.
Skylar took a big breath again and met his stare directly. Okay, Mr. Thorne. But allow me to explain. There are rules attached to this marital charade."
Jackson saw a glimmer of optimism appear in his eyes. "Status? Give them names."
Skylar bent over, her voice dwindling to a whisper of conspiracy. "To start with, this marriage will only last temporarily. No exclusions, for six months. Furthermore, there won't be any expectations. This is all business, please."
Jackson wavered, the picture of an ardent marriage flickering in his mind—one he had not dared to imagine. "But-"
"And third," Skylar held up a hand to silence him, "there will be some ground rules." If you accept my demands, we'll properly negotiate them."
Jackson's features softened into a smile. Her determination to be just another trophy wife was something he liked about her. "Agree," he stated, holding out his hand.
Skylar gripped it tightly, her power astounding me. "Then welcome to the craziest business deal of your life, Mr. Thorne."
Their brief but intense affair started then, a well-staged production that would soon have them waltzing around the halls of upper society. They had no idea that this convenient marriage would lead to a conflagration neither of them had predicted, a love tale born of deception that would ultimately change the rules in their own worlds.
