First Names Stage

Married for A Million Dollars:

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Chapter 8: call me by my first name

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“This isn’t signed,” Williams remarks as he goes over the contract.

“Not yet. Had some alterations I wanted to get back to you with.” Ariana sets down her fork. “I want the payment divided in five installments. First two hundred thousand on our wedding night. Then the second part four months later and the third part two months after, and the remaining at the end of the year. The personal expense thing is fine, but I want a separate bedroom for myself, a charity budget, and a scholarship to any academy of my choice. If I happen to die before the contract expires, the rest of my payment should be donated to the charity listed on my will. If you die, I have the right to be paid full by your estate without adhering to the contract.”

She doesn’t notice Williams leaning over her as she leafs through each section. When Ariana glances up, startled at his presence, Williams sits back and shrugs.

“Sounds good to me. But why do you want a charity budget? My parents and I both are on board with plenty."

Ariana takes a bite of her muffin to busy herself. “Might as well make the best out of your offer. There are a few projects and organizations that I’ve wanted to contribute to. Don’t worry—I’m not going to splurge on myself. It’s all for a good cause.”

“I’m not worried,” he smiles. “For someone who was really hell-bent on this whole paid proposal thing, you sure are anxious to spend it. I’m okay with all of your suggestions. Anything else?”

“No side chicks or dicks in the marital home.” Ariana enunciates carefully, making sure she’s made her point across. The idea of Williams fucking a nameless somebody in the next room of the house they’d be sharing disgusts her—fake spouse or not. “That’s a ground rule. If I catch you, then I’m able to terminate the contract and receive the rest of the payment within a month after our divorce. It’s on page fifteen.”

Instead of being bothered by the condition, Williams only arches a brow. “I assure you won’t find any of my one night stands at home. I keep my love life and business away from each other, Gillies. Besides, my romantic affairs are to be discreet, remember?”

“It’s a ground rule and that’s all there is to it.” Ariana wrinkles her nose. “God, I’m glad I’m not required to sleep with you. I bet you’re as responsive as a rock in bed. Your one night stands are better off with a dildo shoved up their ass—unless they’re in for a dick to suck while they’re at it?”

Gone too far, Ariana.

Truth is, Ariana is no sexpert. At all. So she’s surprised shitless when she blurts all of that out in broad public. Something about Williams pisses her off to the extent that her brain-to-mouth filter vanishes a foot within distance.

The funny thing is, Williams isn’t even the slightest bit insulted. The corner of his lips quirk upwards as he eyes her almost lazily. “Wouldn’t you like to know?"

What the hell.

Williams Montenegro isn’t a bad flirt, she decides. Ariana’s cheeks instantly flare but she rolls her eyes and winces at the bitter taste of coffee. “No thanks. While I’d love to sleep with a masterpiece, I don’t exactly appreciate the ones who either talk unnecessarily or are full of shit when they do.”

“It’s only shit if they’re things you don’t wanna hear—also known as the truth."

Ariana purses her lips in subtle agreement. “Have I ever told you that I really dislike your guts, Montenegro?”

“Not in my face, no, but you make it pretty obvious, Gillies.” And he’s grinning so cheekily with the huskiest laugh that a part of Ariana kind of dies inside.

Why couldn’t he be funny on a week when Ariana’s humor wasn’t buried six feet under?

“When will I get the revised contract?”

“Tomorrow morning,” Williams promises, carefully folding the contract and slipping it underneath his coat. “By the way, my dad’s coming back from Yokohama tonight so I thought we could—uh, announce our engagement to the family at the brunch we’re attending on Saturday.”

Having to lie to his father and the rest of the Montenegro’ faces makes her heart wrench in guilt.

“I can’t. Got work all Saturday long,” Ariana shrugs.

A wrinkle forms between his brows when Williams frowns. “The contract states to quit both your job and schooling when we get married.”

“When we get married, not before. When is the wedding anyway? I need to notify Sal beforehand since training a replacement takes time.”

“Look,” he grits his teeth. “In two weeks’ time the public will be notified of our engagement. I’m going to have to introduce you to everyone soon and you continuing your job at the diner just doesn’t fit the image as my fiance.”

“Well, I’m not getting my money until our wedding night and last time I checked, I need food to survive. And anyways, what’s so bad about a waiter, huh? Think of it as some romantic story—you were so whipped for the lowly waiter that you just had to marry her. See? Romantic.”

“I am not whipped for you or anywhere near that, so keep your bullshit excuse to yourself,” Williams snaps.

“Did I say you were?” Ariana retorts. “It’s better than people knowing the truth—that you’re only marrying me to shimmy your way into your father’s heart and gain the position of CEO.”

“I can just say my dad forced me through it.”

“Yeah, and make Walter look like the criminal here? I don’t think so.” Exasperation laces Ariana’s words. “You’re just going to make people think you’re a spineless hag who can’t stand up to his own dad. Are people actually going to accept the complexity of a so-called simple business arrangement?”

“Okay, okay, I get it!” The force in Williams’s tone frightens her, even if he remains the same volume. “You can keep your damn job until a week before the wedding because we’ve got a lot of shit to prepare. You’re basically playing the bride’s role in this agreement so your involvement is required more for the big day. And while you’re working here,” his eyes narrow. “You better avoid anyone trying to get into your pants. It’s already bad that I’m marrying an immature waiter. I don’t need Naver posting articles of people groping my fiance’s ass.”

“Oh yes, there’s the husbandly concern.” Ariana mutters. “Whatever. I’m not approaching any shady people unless I’m armed with a bat. I would’ve brought it along with me today for a demonstration, but it didn’t go with the outfit. I can hear the salt and pepper shakers calling my name on days like these.”

Williams pinches his eyes shut. “I’m insane for considering this with you of all people.”

“Same, but you were already messed up when you met me. And now I have to endure your thugginess.”

He opens his eyes and stares at Ariana exasperatedly. “Oh really? Well since you’re being paid to endure my thugginess, I suggest you shut up and deal with it. Honestly, I’d like to survive the year without a permanent migraine that you happen to be the source of.”

“Only because you piss me off first,” Ariana lifts her chin. “But you’re right. I’d like to go through this year without being charged of murder. If we’re staying married for a year, we’ve gotta act like it. In order to do that, let’s try not to get on each other’s nerves too much, yeah?”

Williams gives her half a smile. “Yeah. I’ll try my best.”

Ariana nods. “Me too.”

It’s this moment that causes the two to set their disputes aside and let a subtle change click between them.

They finish their breakfast in peace, Ariana scraping the last bits of eggs off her plate as Williams wolfs down his coffee. He sets the mug down and wipes his mouth with a napkin.

“How long do you have till your shift today?” he asks.

“I start at eight tonight, but I need to take a nap beforehand since I’ll get off at three in the morning.”

“We've got time,” He turns his phone on. “It’s only twelve, so we can get some shopping done and I’ll drive you home by one so you can catch up on sleep.”

“Shopping?” Ariana raises a brow. “What for?"

“An engagement ring. Maybe a new outfit. Something that doesn’t look so worn down. My assistant Yara will get you a personal shopper for your new wardrobe, but till then, it doesn’t hurt to get you some stuff now.”

“Can’t this wait until after the wedding? It’s not like I have to start wearing Versace and Saint Laurent at work.”

“You definitely need the ring if you’re going to convince my dad about our engagement this Saturday,” Williams argues. “The fiance of Williams Montenegro needs to have a rock to show off.”

“The only rock I need is one I can bash your brains out with,” Ariana mutters to herself and smiles innocently when he glares at her. “I mean—oh yes. Buy me the most expensive shit Tiffany can offer.”

“You’re going to have an appointed driver, by the way,” Williams says, barely batting a lash at her sarcasm. “I don’t want you wandering around on your own.”

“Aw, baby. So concerned for my well-being, aren’t you?”

Ew.

Williams narrows his glare and pulls out a hundred dollar bill, tucking it into the receipt book and standing up after.

Damn. Lucky Mary.

“I’m concerned with all my investments. You being the most defenseless—not to mention complicated—one I have,” he teases and offers Ariana his hand.

She takes it with a pout. “Wow, romantic. Okay, so there’s a driver and a ring and a new outfit. Anything else?”

“Not that I know of. We should be good to go. Ready?”

“More than ever,” Ariana resists the temptation to skim her fingers across Williams’s warm hand. “Show me what all the fuss is about, Montenegro—”

“Liam. Williams.” He interrupts as they exit Vene together. His hand slips out of their hold and presses against the small of Ariana’s back. “If we’re going to play married, then we probably need to address each other with our first names.”

Ariana doesn’t expect Williams’s muscular arm to snake around her waist and pull her closer to his side. She swallows hard at the possessive contact and notices the number of winks familiar passersby were giving her. Oh. “Uh, yeah. Okay, Williams.”

“Better,” He smiles a little and glances down at her.

“I’m Ariana,” he offers when they cross the road. "Most people call me Ari or Ana.”

Williams shakes his head. “They both sound weird. Ariana is a nice name. It suits you better.”

She blinks, suddenly shy under his gaze. “Um, thanks.”

“Come on, Ariana. Ride's this way.” Williams picks her hand back up again, slots his fingers carefully between hers, and begins to lead her down the block.

As Ariana watches their palms touch, she wonders if he is holding her simply because she’s currently his most valuable possession and not because he doesn't want to lose sight of her.

Then she realizes she’s got more to lose than just the money. That’s what scares her the most about this whole whimsical engagement the first time Williams had proposed it to her.

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TBC

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