Chapter 7

**Blue**

"I agreed to marry you, not carry a child! What the hell? It's a good thing I didn't sign anything yet. You are fucking crazy if you think I'm going to give you free rein over my reproduction choices."

We are back to me wanting to kick this guy out on his ass. How dare he drop that bomb on me!

"I never said you would have to carry the child. We could claim you have a problem conceiving and use a surrogate to carry the baby. We can even use a donated egg if you don't want to have any biological connection to the child."

My mouth drops open in shock. Literally.

Did he just say...

"You want me to pretend I can't get pregnant and have another woman carry a baby that isn't mine but will be passed off as mine? You are certifiable." I can't believe I thought about marrying this guy!

"Look...Blue," He stops and tilts his head at me with an odd expression on his face. "Is that a nickname for something?"

Great now I have to explain this to some rich prick.

"No. When I was little my foster mother called me Blue because I always looked so sad. It's what everyone called me from then on because my birth certificate was lost in a flood. The wonderful foster system had no record of me, so the name Blue stuck."

"What's your last name then?"

Shame works its way through me but I hold my head high. "I don't have one. According to any records, I don't even exist."

That has him shutting up fast.

"Yeah, I guess you picked a real winner. Just imagine how thrilled your parents will be that a nobody is about to marry into their family and not carry their grandchild. Oh wait, isn't that the whole point?"

He stays quiet until his phone goes off.

"I have to go. I'll see you tonight."

He stops at the door and gives me one last look before opening it and leaving me alone.

Once I'm alone I blow out a breath and shake my head in disbelief. What just happened? First I'm being hounded by strangers to the point of a severe panic attack to being engaged. I mean the man wouldn't accept rejection, but I like to think I put in a good effort.

Right. Who am I kidding? He came in here with a plan to get a fiance and got it. As he said, he gets what he's after, and for now, that's me.

"May I come in?" I jump at the sound of an unfamiliar voice.

It's the woman Artemis had come in with.

"Uh, sure." I wave her in.

She smiles brightly at me and I try to offer her an equally as cheerful one but fall short. I'm a decently happy person but I wasn't called Blue for nothing. A woman I met once said my life had darkened my aura and that's why I always looked sad. She said my aura color was bluish-black. Fitting with the theme of being blue in every way.

How did my foster mom know her weird nickname for me would cause a domino effect like this?

"I'm Abigail Simmons, Mr. Rhodes' assistant. He told me I am charged with getting you out of here and to somewhere homier. The apartment isn't far. I've already spoken to your doctor and nurse. They've given me all your discharge information and prescriptions from their on-call psychiatrist. They recommend you speak to someone later in the week for a full mental health examination. That has been set as well."

I blink at her like I've just seen an alien. How did she do all that so fast?

"Um, I can't pay for any of that and I don't want Artemis paying for it either. I made a point to tell him I don't want any financial help from him."

She looks at me confused. "I was told to cover any expenses you would have."

"Yeah well, you were told wrong. I'll take the bill and find a way to pay it off myself."

She cringes and apologizes. "Mr. Rhodes has already settled the bill and asked that all further bills be sent to him."

That...that...ASSHOLE!

He's trying to make sure I go through with this by making me owe him! Oh, he is good...

I'm about to make a stink and tell her to call her boss and tell him to shove his money where the sun doesn't shine, but I stop myself. She looks uncomfortable and nervous. He probably ordered her to do a lot of things and it's her job to listen to him. If I make a fuss then she could get in trouble because of me and I don't want that. She's only doing her job.

All the fight inside me melts away and I forget my anger...for now.

"Thank you, Abigail," I say instead and her nervousness turns into that same cheery look she had when she walked in.

"You're welcome. Is there anything else I can help you with?"

She's really sweet.

She also doesn't seem upset that her boss dumped his fake fiance in her lap to take care of. I take a minute to consider if this will play out like one of those storylines where I'm betrayed as the bitch who comes between a boss and a secretary who secretly love each other but can't be together. Because if that's the case then I'm not agreeing to anything. Except she doesn't seem upset and barely looked at Artemis when they were in the same room together, so maybe I'm safe.

While I'm working all this out in my head Abigail has been talking about all the things she can help me with. She mentions my bags and how I didn't have much in them, and I finally check into the conversation again.

"Are you sure I can't pick you up some toiletries or anything?" She sounds almost desperate for something to do.

"No, I think I'm good. I have everything I need in my bags" I shrug like it's normal for all my personal items to fit in two bags.

What she is offering is amazing. Of course, over the years I've wanted to splurge on products that are a little nicer or clothes with fewer holes in them. It would be so easy to ask for those things now, but I don't want to. I don't want to be indebted to anyone. Then something comes to mind.

"Actually. Can you get me a few magazines? I don't know much about Artemis, and I'd like to get to know the man I'm going to marry before we walk down the aisle together."

She laughs. "Magazines don't tend to give the whole truth. How about I share what I know and then we can fill the rest in later."

I smile at the cute way she makes it seem like we are two girlfriends about to gossip about a boy at a sleepover.

"I would like that thanks, Abigail."

"Of course. That's my job. Besides if I know Mr. Rhodes the way I think, he will want me to help you out in any way possible. You'll be married to a very busy man." She gives me a sympathetic look.

"I get that impression since he had to hunt me down instead of finding a fiance the traditional way."

She sighs and shakes her head. "It's not that he never dated. His old assistant used to stop by the bar where I worked and told me drunken stories about his comings and goings. It gave me an unfiltered look into the man everyone is in awe of. It also helped me when the position of his assistant suddenly opened up. He hired me on the spot because I knew him so well. I never told anyone it's because I had a first-hand account of what it takes to work for him."

"You got lucky then. Most people walk right into those things and regret it a second later. At least you knew what to expect. I wish I had that right about now." We both laugh but that dies down into silence.

I'm not sure what to do now. Since I seem to be in Abigail's care I assume she knows what to do next.

"So when can I get out of here?" I ask her.

She smiles. "After you change. I had a few things sent over."

I hadn't noticed she'd carried a clothing bag in with her and it's currently sitting on one of the chairs.

"It's nothing fancy but since we're about to face a ton of people with cameras I figured you would want to look nicer. It would give people a more positive perception of you. It also comes with this." She sets a small box down on the bed beside me.

My heart picks up again at the sight of the familiar box and when my heart rate picks up that damn machine I'm hooked up to let everyone know.

I hesitate but reach for the box. The box by itself looks fancy but nothing compared to the ring inside.

"Is he serious with this? I can't wear something so expensive." I quickly shut the box and slide it across the bed to her. "No way. Besides, it looks like something a stuck-up housewife would wear and that's not me."

She cringes. "If you're worried about that then I guess you won't like the clothes either."

I watch her unzip the garment bag and gently remove a pair of elegant dress pants and a cream-colored blouse. I think they call it business casual or something.

I am not proud of what I do next. "No! What is that?" My head drops back on the pillow and I groan.

"I'm sorry. I thought it would be better in pictures than what you were wearing before." Her face falls and she zips the bag up again.

Guilt. That's all I'm going to feel around this woman.

"It's okay. You're right. I don't want to be caught looking like a mess again."

She nods and opens the bag. I also catch her satisfied expression like she just got the drop on me. Little minx.