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  Marry Me

  A Short Story

  Mia Barrett

  Copyright © 2019 by Mia Barrett

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Cover by Matilda Martel

  Created with Vellum

  Contents

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Epilogue

  About the Author

  Also by Mia Barrett

  Prologue

  “Charlotte Travers? Charlotte Travers?” The hiring manager raises her voice to catch the interviewee’s attention watching her thumb through notes in a legal pad. Her heart stings. This is a nonsense meeting.

  “I’m Charlotte! I’m ready!” She smiles big and jumps to her feet.

  Her naïve optimism makes her stomach churn with guilt. The girl’s credentials are unimpeachable. She is a summa cum laude from Columbia University and she’s earned her way into the Ivy League with an academic scholarship, not her father’s money.

  “Miss Travers, I’m Rebecca Ivers, I know your father well.” The manager escorts Charlotte back to her office.

  “Miss Ivers, I didn’t list my father as a reference. I don’t want any special favors or advantages. The job description fits my qualifications. That’s the only reason I applied. I hope my father didn’t speak to you. He and I don’t talk, and I don’t know how he found out I applied.”

  Charlotte wrings her hands, promptly tucking them under her thighs to keep them still. She detests nepotism and unlike her older sisters, she’s fought hard to eke out her own way since high school.

  “Please don’t concern yourself, Charlotte. I recognized your name and Mr. McAllister told me you were Jason Travers’ daughter.” Her throat clenches with remorse. She shouldn’t have allowed the board to bully her into hiring a less-qualified candidate, simply because he’s the CFO’s son.

  “Oh Duncan, I didn’t know he took over so soon. I haven’t seen him in ages. Oh, that’s not true, I saw him at his father’s funeral a few weeks ago, but it was such a horrible day. Forgive me, please continue with the interview. I’m rambling and being unprofessional.” Charlotte sits up straight and hands Miss Ivers a fresh copy of her resume. She spent extra money having them professionally printed, but if she gets a respectable job, it will be worth it.

  The interview lasts thirty minutes and by the end, Rebecca fights to maintain eye contact. She’s overly competent for a twenty-one-year-old girl. She’s quick, bright, with an impeccable work ethic and some of the best ideas to come through her office in years. She should have cancelled the interview ahead of schedule and not wasted the poor girl’s time.

  “Well Charlotte, I’ll have to go through the other candidates and review the nominees with the board but thank you so much for your time today. If for some reason you don’t get this position, I will certainly keep you in mind for others that may open up.” She smiles and escorts the candidate out of her office.

  Charlotte’s sunny expression fades. She’s familiar with the loser’s speech.

  “Thank you, Miss Ivers. It was a pleasure meeting you.”

  Biting her lip to keep it from trembling, she exits the office, confident she won’t hear from her again.

  Chapter 1

  Charlotte

  “Charlotte! Hey, Charlotte!” Trudging towards the elevators, I hear a familiar voice.

  My eyes widen and I tense in an awkward state when I see Duncan McAllister rushing towards me. In an unexpected move, he brings me into his arms in what I can only describe as a bear hug.

  “Duncan! Oh wow, how are you?” Fighting to spring loose, I remain friendly. He’s in mourning. As much as I’d love to be more supportive, I need to get the hell out of this office.

  “I’m better than I was a few weeks ago. Thank you for asking. How did your interview go?” He leans in and angles his head with concern. I have a feeling he already knows. This is ultimately his company.

  “It went well, but I can tell your manager has already hired someone else. Body language speaks volumes.” I scratch my head and glance at my watch.

  “Listen. I really want to get out of your building. No offense. I feel terrible.” For his sake, since he’s suddenly become a hugger, I lean in for another hug and make my way to the elevators.

  I’m too distracted to notice he’s following me until we descend together, and he addresses me from behind.

  “Charlotte, grab some coffee with me. I mean, will you?” He speaks suddenly and startles me out of a self-loathing daze.

  “Jesus Christ, Duncan, you scared me. I don’t drink coffee.”

  I glance at my watch again. Seconds later, I look through my purse for my metro card. I don’t want to look at him. He’s so handsome. Too handsome. For years, he’s made me incredibly uncomfortable to be in his presence. Men shouldn’t be so attractive. Beauty is wasted on them. It’s not natural and Duncan is the beauty queen of men.

  “Then come have a drink. You’re twenty-one now. Come on.” Taking my hand, he leads me out of the building and towards a quiet bistro down the street. He doesn’t wait for my reply and assumes my answer is yes. This isn’t like him. We’re close but not this close.

  Confused, I pull my hand away and stop in my tracks.

  “Duncan, what are you doing? Why are you acting so strange?”

  He extends his hand again and asks nicely.

  “Please, Charlotte. We need to talk, it’s important and you’ll probably need a drink to get through it.”

  Mildly curious, I take his hand and let him guide me to Marcel’s. Maybe there’s a job offer in store. This is unconventional, but after this last rejection, my desperation is at an all-time high.

  Guiding me to a quiet booth, he helps me slide in and wastes no time ordering drinks.

  Minutes pass in silence while we wait for the server to return. Glaring at him, I narrow my eyes and ask the only thing on my mind.

  “Is this about me? Is this about my interview?”

  He laughs. “It’s not about that, but it affects you or could affect you. It’s more about me.”

  “Oh, okay. Are you sick?” I sip my drink slowly. I haven’t eaten all day.

  He takes a swig and stares.

  “Charlotte, I’m not unwell physically, but things are not good and getting worse.”

  My interest piques.

  “The board which includes your father wants to steal my father’s company. My company. I’ll still have the largest share of stock, but I won’t control anything anymore.” He exhales and shoots his hand up for another drink.

  “Why? What? My father? How can they do that? Why would they do that?” This is absurd. Mr. McAllister adored Duncan. There is no way he would have wanted this.

  “They think I’m reckless and too young to run my father’s company.” He stops to gather his thoughts.

  “There is a fucking stipulation in his original will that states I need to marry by the time I am thirty-three. He swore he removed it a long time ago, but no one can attest he ever signed the new will.”

  My jaw drops. He continues.

  “Dad put it in when I was born. His father had the same thing in his. Back then, thirty-three was old. Everyone was settled down with a family at thirt
y-three! If I’m not married by my thirty-third birthday, then I can no longer be CEO and lose my place on the board. I’ll have no say in how things are run.”

  Bewildered, I take another sip and wait for more. Surely, there’s more.

  “Charlotte, I turn thirty-three in four weeks.” He exhales and slams down his second whiskey.

  “But why thirty-three? That’s so arbitrary.”

  It is an odd number.

  “It’s actually thirty-years-old with a three-year grace period.” He rolls his eyes and leans back in his chair.

  “Charlotte, I need your help.” He takes my hand and hesitates for a moment as he searches his mind for the right words.

  “Do you need me to talk to my Dad? We’re not on good terms, but I’ll try.” I fake a smile, attempting to provide some comfort.

  “No, he won’t listen to you. But thank you, Charlotte.”

  He gazes into my eyes and I lean in closer, baffled by where this is going. He opens his mouth, stutters, then tries again.

  “But you can help. I need you to marry me. I’m sorry. I would like for you to marry me, please.”

  Chapter 2

  Duncan

  Charlotte laughs but that ends abruptly when she realizes I’m not kidding. For a few minutes, she sits in uncomfortable silence, and then reaches for her purse.

  “Duncan, you can’t be serious. You have a hundred girlfriends. Why on earth would you want to marry me? We hardly know one another.”

  What a little jerk.

  Knitting my brows, I cock my head and sneer.

  “I’ve known you since you were a little girl. And what the hell do you mean I have a hundred girlfriends? Is that what you think of me?”

  Not wanting to start an argument, she stands and tries to slink away with a quick goodbye.

  “I’m not implying you’re a man whore, it’s just that I’ve never seen you with the same girl twice. Why don’t you ask one of them to marry you? I’m sure it would thrill them to be Mrs. Duncan McAllister.”

  She smiles. It’s so fake she looks like she’s in pain.

  “I don’t want to marry you Duncan. Marriage is sacred and I don’t have those feelings for you. I can’t imagine I ever will.”

  Before she can run off, I reach for her hand, throw money on the table and walk her out. This doesn’t end here.

  “First of all, I don’t take marriage lightly either, which is why I don’t want to marry just anyone. I want to marry a decent, smart, kind, compassionate, beautiful girl and you’re the only woman I know who has all those qualities. My father always said the most important thing a man does is choose the right woman to be the mother of his children.”

  “Children? Now you’re throwing in children too?” She huffs and marches on, aiming to wiggle out of my grasp.

  “Of course, there will be children. This will be a real marriage that needs to last a minimum of five years with at least one child.”

  Her mouth slacks.

  “And to address the second part, you don’t have those feelings for me because I’ve never tried to woo you. I can persuade you to love me if I work at it and I will.” I bring her hand to my lips, but she pulls it away before I can plant a kiss on it.

  “No, you couldn’t.” She turns away with offense.

  “Yes, I could.”

  “No, you couldn’t. I’m not attracted to you.” She shrugs and forces me to follow her down the sidewalk.

  “Yes, you are. I’m not an ogre, Charlotte. I’m attracted to you. You’re a beautiful girl.”

  “That’s sweet and I never said you’re an ogre. You’re just not my type.” Emboldened by the martini in her system and eager to end the conversation, she blurts out an insult.

  “You’re a pretty man. Too pretty. It’s feminine.”

  I smirk.

  “You’re just trying to offend me. I hear that every day. I’m comfortable enough with my masculinity to accept it. Charlotte, please don’t make me play dirty.”

  “Dirty? What the hell does that mean?” She scowls and strides faster.

  Grabbing her by the elbow, I turn her to face me.

  “I saved your life. If it weren’t for me, you would have drowned in Fred Hollander’s pool when you were four-years-old.”

  I watch her eyes grow wider than I’ve ever seen them as she stammers a heated reply.

  “Seriously? You want to use that to quid pro quo me into marriage? I was four! I didn’t consent to any future exchange of favors. You’re an idiot!”

  Exasperated and thoroughly unaccustomed to being turned down by the opposite sex, I chase her into the metro station.

  “Charlotte, listen it’s not just that. I didn’t want to tell you off the bat because it concerns your Dad and it might hurt your feelings.”

  She stops before she slides her card through the turnstile. Yielding to other commuters, she inches towards me.

  “Telling you is self-serving, but I swear it’s the truth.”

  “What? What is it? Get this over with!” She screams as I tug her to a less crowded corner.

  “He’s the reason you’re not getting any jobs. He wants you to come home groveling. It drives him crazy that you’re not dependent on him. Your mother spilled the beans to Rebecca Ivers who told me. He arranged for someone else to get the job you applied for today. Those other jobs you chased earlier this week, and last week? He got to those managers too. You’re blackballed to anything remotely in your field that does business with McAllister Industries.” My heart aches as her bottom lip quivers and tears well in her big blue eyes. I didn’t want to tell her something so devastating.

  No one wants to hear their father’s an asshole.

  Chapter 3

  Charlotte

  I wipe my eyes and steel my resolve. Deep inside, I knew he was capable of something like this, but I chose not to believe he would do something so conniving and cruel.

  And why is my mother going along with it?!

  “Why are you telling me this? What does this have to do with you?” I storm off, swipe through the turnstile and yell at him from the other side.

  “I’m not marrying you to get back at my father, Duncan. That’s a terrible way to start a marriage.”

  “I’ll marry you, sweetheart.” A strange woman makes a pass at Duncan, momentarily drawing our attention from each other.

  “Go get her, champ.” I snap and walk way.

  As the train buzzes into the station, I wave goodbye and jump in. He doesn’t have a metro card. Duncan’s never ridden the subway in his life.

  Relieved to be rid of him, I sit down and watch him through the hazy window. He looks determined. Pissed. No fucking way will he jump it.

  Goddamn.

  Flying through just before the doors close, he makes his way through the thin crowd and sits next to me.

  “Let’s start over, Charlotte. I want to marry you. I have lots of reasons, but most will make you uncomfortable to hear so soon. Yes, I can marry someone else. If you continue playing hard to get, I may have to, but I don’t want to.” He exhales and reaches for my hand.

  I shake my head. “But I don’t like you.”

  “Yes, you do.”

  “No. I really don’t.”

  “You’re just saying that because you’re afraid of your feelings.”

  I laugh. I laugh so hard, I snort.

  “You see? You were crying a few minutes ago and I made you feel better.” He gazes down at me and brings my hand to his lips.

  “Marriage is bad enough, but babies? I can’t have your babies.” I sink in my seat and sigh.

  “Well, who else’s are you going to have?” His voice deepens.

  Noting a tinge of jealousy, I crease my brows and stare into the tunnel. “I have boyfriends. You don’t know what I do.”

  “You do not. I’ve kept an eye on you the last few weeks. Ever since I found out about this thing. You do nothing. You can’t afford to do anything. You are weeks from losing your apartment, Charlotte.
” He chides.

  I gasp. The nerve!

  “I have a trust...” He cuts me off.

  “You can’t touch that until you’re twenty-four and you know it.”

  “I don’t like you, Duncan McAllister.” I tug back my hand and sulk.

  “Yes, you do.”

  “I do not!”

  He nods with condescension.

  “Yes, you do. And you’ll love me, Charlotte. Just remember this moment because a big I told you so is coming in a few weeks.”

  I gasp loudly.

  “Close your mouth. It’s October. Flu season.”

  Chapter 4

  Duncan

  It’s a stupid clause. I’ve had a team of lawyers work to get me out of it for weeks. This is not the way I want to marry. But whether it’s now or later, I truly believe Charlotte is the girl for me.

  There are other women I could marry. I just inherited over a billion dollars, not counting assets. A few phone calls and I could have a line of women in wedding dresses outside my door. But that’s not what I want.

  I want Charlotte.

  I like her. I’ve liked her long before I had any right to look at her sideways.

  She grew up right in front me. Of course, I dismissed her for years. There’s more than a decade between us. I’m not a pervert. But then one day, maybe five years ago, I caught sight of her in a bikini at a friend’s Labor Day party. She was stunning. I was floored. I’m not proud, just human.

  Jesus, you should have seen it. Sixteen-year-old Charlotte. The quiet bookworm. The one who never drew much attention to herself, dressed in a skimpy yellow bikini. My eyes almost fell out of my head. When I realized I wasn’t the only guy ogling her, I almost punched every dickhead there for staring at my girl.