The Marriage Contract Natasha Black (top ebook reader .txt) 📖

more last-ditch call to his phone went unanswered. I took off my work clothes in favor of soft lounge clothes. Within seconds, my exhaustion won, and I fell asleep on the couch.

35

Matt

The emotions of the last day and a half had been overwhelming, but I had to get a grip on what I was doing. The next few hours would be extremely important. I had a mission, and if I was successful, I thought I might be able to make everything I had been through, everything Chloe had been through, worth it.

The plane touched down in LA early in the morning. I took the red eye not just because it was cheaper but because I wanted to be there at first light. I had only been to LA twice, and both times had been with one of my brothers on sightseeing trips more than anything else. Getting around the city without one of them with me and with no real memory of where I was going or what I was doing was going to be rough.

Or at least it could have been.

Tom had been extremely generous when I called him and explained what I needed. Annoyed, but generous. Tom was historically an early to bed, early to rise kind of guy, and my phone call caught him square in the middle of both of those time frames. Still, he had gotten up and done what I asked him without question or hesitation. The most recent text from his wife, Amanda, confirmed it. I knew where I was going and how I was going to get there.

Exiting the plane, I bypassed the luggage station. I had nothing but a small carry-on. One bag. In it was a change of clothes in case of an emergency, a file with some articles I’d printed out about the bar, and an extra pair of shoes. The shoes were a personal touch I always carried with me. Having been caught in a strange city suddenly missing my shoes on a wild weekend with my brother Tyler in Las Vegas got me in the habit of always having a backup pair.

I checked my phone as I walked out of the airport and followed the directions in the text. A limo was waiting for me, and I grinned. All I asked for was for Tom to set me up a car if he could, since he was in LA often and had drivers he often used. The limo was clearly a rib on me, but I’d take it. Where I was going, it might actually help.

I hopped in the car and told the driver where we were going. It would take about an hour, which apparently was normal, day-to-day LA traffic from the airport to Beverly Hills, so I sat back in the seat and closed my eyes. I hadn’t had much sleep, and an hour nap might do me a little good. I had to be on top of my game when I got there.

The limo pulled into the posh neighborhoods I was expecting but was still impressed by. The houses were incredibly opulent, to the point where after a while it started to just feel like showing off. Tom had found the address for me through his network of friends and associates, and the driver ended up pulling me into a gated neighborhood where all the houses also had their own gates. It was so ridiculous it made me laugh out loud as we drove to a house at the end of the long, narrow street.

“Thanks, man. Did Tom say anything about how long you’d be here?” I asked as the driver opened the door for me.

“No, sir. Just that I was to be at your service all day. To call my superior if I needed to be relieved. Also, that all tips were to go through him,” he said.

“Really? Tom told you that I wasn’t going to tip?”

“Not in so many words, sir,” the driver said.

I suddenly realized I was being watched. Someone was at the door of the massive white marble home, looking out over the driveway where we were. I needed to play the part. I pulled out my wallet and handed the driver a fifty without looking him in the eye.

“We will just keep this between us, then, yeah?” I muttered.

“As you wish, sir,” the driver said, and I caught the faintest grin on his lips.

With that, I walked up to the steps and began my ascent. When I crested the top step, I saw that the person waiting at the door was wearing a suit but was clearly not who I thought it was. It was one of the help, and I nodded to him as I approached.

“I’m here to see Charles and Beverly Beckett,” I said, as confidently as I could manage under the circumstances.

“Very good, and you are?” said the older gentleman by the door. I could have taken offense at how quickly he snapped that question off, but I had to remind myself that was literally his job. I was, to him, riffraff that needed to be kept away, until such time as I was proven not to be.

“I’m their son-in-law.”

After some hushed discussion between the doorman and some other members of the house clad in black, I was ushered into an enormous home with high ceilings and a stunningly crass amount of gold. I shook my head as I was led into a parlor. There was a bar on one side, and I was tempted to make myself a drink to calm my nerves but chose against it. The last thing I needed to do was to be so bold as to help myself to someone else’s liquor without asking.

As I sat in Chloe’s parents’ parlor, I thought about why I needed them. It would certainly be easier to avoid this whole step, but I felt like it was necessary. She needed her family, whether she thought she did or not. It would mean