By Midnight

d her fake marriage t

ived on contracts, confidentiali

conference room, the city skyline blazing behind him.

MESTIC AGREEM

as printed

inical.

ined my wedding would be," Sloane mut

espresso. "That's because it's n

"You're every bit t

witched. Al

mo

the terms," h

: PUBLIC A

ty galas, business dinners, investor confer

TWO: RE

No requirement to live together

EE: CONFID

irs about "Married to the Manhat

FOUR: E

as wedding, they'd file for divorce. M

NO EMOTIONAL

"Really? You wrote

nts compl

us sound l

sound smart,"

alize humans have emotions. Eve

rom feeling things, Sloane. I

to hate t

hone

safer t

allory entered the conference room,

charity brunch is this wee

my wife," Grays

lance. "You'll need a new wardrobe. Th

ck credit card. "Take the c

your money,"

"You're spending the company's money. Techni

arm

effic

ts buzzed around her, pinning and primping. Her simple blouse and black trousers had bee

or didn't look like a

ho belonged on the arm of

d her more than s

ed her from Dubai l

ipping the camera to show a poolside

olding up her ring. "Tha

hattan's most emotionally consti

idering a

fake-marri

. He has a spreadsheet

ed. "Of cour

s voice

. He's not as put-t

d. "What d

ere's a reason he doe

he's ar

arded. And maybe

er East Side townhouse a four-story limestone building

he'd stepped into

ere. It breathed here. In

ted her at the front door with a glas

aid, kissing Sloane on the cheek. "But y

r sneakers," S

lpted brow. "That ex

eetly. "That exp

and gently settling on the small of her back. "Mot

. "Of course. I'm just surprised. Y

y, then guided Sloane inside before his m

f champagne flutes and

Sloane from behind

ubtly snapp

Gray

ry inch the att

before she noticed it was low. Laughed actually laughe

like a cou

ow easy it was to

t played in the solarium, Sloa

of Astor ancestors and velvet wallpaper that

he end of the corridor

esk. A grand piano. And

stepped

son as a teenager, fl

d in the picture. Ch

dlines that would la

out to tou

said a voic

sp

doorway, watching her

to snoop," sh

hat photo's the only one left. My mother w

d him. "You don't t

not muc

there's

f man people trusted. And the kind of man w

d y

nything. Never promise anything you can't del

ed at h

his wasn't just a

as sur

Sloane cou

o use felt too pristine. Too quiet. Like a

one of the plush chairs, a blank

closed her eyes,

wn nu

r disappeared without a tra

eart

ed the t

tachm

plana

t hidden in

ran thro

joke? A s

war

the phone fo

a message

think we n

filled with old photographs and burn

ched he

he still wore a

ys

st ready to come