Page 71 of Reputation (Tempt)
I resumed scanning the contract. The ring was on loan and would be relinquished. Public appearances required. All of it conformed to what we’d agreed to already, and none of it seemed like a big deal. At least until I got to the section on breach of contract.
“In the event of disclosure by either party…” I continued reading, arching my eyebrow the more I read. “So, if either of us tells anyone, we have to pay the other ten million dollars?”
“Yes.”
I scoffed.
“What?” he asked.
“You know what. You have a significant economic advantage over me. This is more to deter me from violating the contract than you because I have more to lose.”
He shook his head. “Do you realize what this could cost me if the secret got out?” He shook his head. “Brooklyn.”
Okay. Fine. He made a good point. And when I thought about it that way, I realized he had even more at stake than I did.
I continued reading, grateful for all the contracts I’d reviewed in the past for my sponsorships and endorsements. It made it easier to parse through some of the boilerplate language. To feel at least moderately confident about what I was agreeing to, even if this was the most unconventional contract I’d ever signed.
“What’s this section about an extension?” I asked.
“Oh.” He waved a hand through the air. “It’s fairly basic. It merely leaves open the possibility to extend ourarrangementshould we find it advantageous.”
“Okay.” I skimmed the terms, and they looked reasonable, though I assumed they’d be unnecessary. “And what if we want to end it before the year is over?”
“Is that—” He paused then asked, “Is that something you foresee happening?”
I lifted a shoulder. “I don’t know. I just think if you’re going to go to the trouble to outline the terms for extension, you should also spell out early termination.”
“I believe it’s detailed on the next page.”
I flipped the page, and sure enough, there it was in black and white. “This agreement shall terminate one year after the date of execution, unless the parties agree otherwise.”
Blah. Blah. Blah. Early termination of contract…if all the terms are fulfilled and the parties agree.Then it spelled out any changes to the compensation and terms for material breach of contract.
“Any other questions or concerns?” he asked.
“Nope. I think that about covers it.”
He slid a pen to me. I took it and signed my name before I could back out.
“Great.” He took the contract and turned it facedown. His shoulders seemed to relax. “Thank you. Now…” He pulled something out of his pocket—a small box. “Catch.” He tossed it to me. Red leather. Gold details. It was clearly an engagement ring.
“So romantic,” I teased, though my heart was racing at the prospect of what the little red box might contain.
If I remembered correctly, Trinity’s engagement ring had been an emerald-cut diamond worth two million dollars. It was beautiful, tasteful, and classic. I wondered what Nate had selected for me.
“That reminds me, we need to come up with a proposal story.”
“Uh-huh,” I said, still staring at the box. When had he had time to do this? Last night?
I guessed when you were a billionaire, you could have whatever you wanted. Whenever you wanted it. Hell, he now had a fake fiancée at his disposal.
“My agent has already lined up a few interviews for us, and we’ll need to start posting about our relationship on social media.” His words went in one ear and out the other.
I stared at the box before finally prying it open.Holy. Shit.
The man had exquisite taste; I’d give him that. The ring was gorgeous. A large radiant cut stone set on a platinum band. The deep red color and setting looked just like one I’d pinned to my private Pinterest board years ago. But unfortunately, this one wasn’t for keeps.
“This is…” I blinked down at the ring in shock. “Wow.”