The Billionaire’s Savior

Chapter 4

“Before we talk about anything else…I need you to sign a document for me.”

“What is it? A pre-nup?” Robyn asked with a laugh.

Chris looked down, “Actually yeah.”

“What? The fu*k? Are you that loaded?”

“I have property and money. So have you I assume?”

Robyn laughed, “If by property you mean my Nikon camera then yeah.”

“My assistant thinks you’re a gold digger.”

“I don’t blame her one bit.”

“Are you?”

“Nah…unless you count the fact that I want to use you for room and board while I get my film career off the ground.”

“Good. Then you have no objections signing the pre-nup?”

“Well, no I don’t think so. I should probably get like a lawyer to look through it in case you’re planning to keep my theoretical kids from me or some sh*t like that.”

The room reverberated with his booming laughter.

“Yeah okay. Do you know any lawyers?”

“Bi*ch I got contracts. Don’t look down on me.”

Chris raised his hands, “I’m not. Promise. I’ll get the docs to you by dinner time.”

“Great. I got a wedding dress to pick up.”

“Oh. You bought something special?”

“No, yeah, my friend made me something. She said I couldn’t get married in just any old thing.”

“Okay. Just as long as you don’t get too carried away.”

“No, I know what this is. And more importantly, what it isn’t.”

Chris watched Robyn walk away, hips swaying gently in her dark jeans. She turned into her bedroom and he shut the door of his study.

“Well maybe you should tell me because I’m not sure.” He said to himself dropping his head backwards to rest it on the door. He took a deep breath and got back to work on his latest experiment.

*****

Robyn was nervous. Nervous that he wouldn’t laugh at her jokes and that no one would understand what she meant. Or worse, that now would be one of those times when she could only manage to speak in Spanish. She had grown up in Miami after all; it was her first language. However, she was determined to say what she had memorized for the man that had taken her in when she was out of options.

“I promise, to always translate what I say in Spanish.” She paused there to laugh lightly, as she bit her lip and tucked some hair behind her ear.

“I promise to always be honest with you….And uphold our agreement. No matter what you do or say.” Robyn couldn’t help but flash a grin at Chris then, before she continued. “And last, but definitely not least, I promise to do all your shopping and interact with the outside world for you. Wither I was supposed to be with you or not.”

She smiled at her husband of convenience to be, once more biting her lip and waited to hear what he would say to her in return.

*****

The wedding was extremely low key; Robyn’s witness was one Pamela Alvarez and Chris had his assistant, Cleo stand up for him. They were married by the justice of the peace in Chris’ garden. Afterward, they had a wedding breakfast catered by Abigail Kirsch. There were flowers in Robyn’s cropped curls and a gold bracelet on her wrist. That was the extent of her nod towards this being her wedding as well as the short flowered number that Pam had made for her. it was cream colored with verbena flowers and Robyn loved it. It wasn’t just perfect for her faux wedding but also reusable for work.

Chris was in a charcoal gray three piece suit and looked like the successful entrepreneur he was. If by entrepreneur one meant in the body building business. His muscles bulged becomingly in their expensive wool covering and Robyn wanted to reach out and run her hands down Chris arm. She restrained herself though. No need to start blurring lines this early in the game. So she turned back to her plate and focused on enjoying her food.

*****

Robyn tossed the ball above her, let it drop into her grip again; she repeated the process for what felt like forever. She was bored out of her God damn mind. Chris was at work—had been since six this morning, as usual, and Robyn had the run of the apartment while he closeted himself in his office until at least six o’clock tonight. It was like this damn near every day, aside from the few times that Chris took time off. Chris went to work, Robyn held down the fort and contemplated whether she was losing her mind or not.

It was dull, so fu*king dull.

Robyn let the ball hit her chest rather than catch it; she rolled to her side and stared at her camera that sat on the coffee table. She had thought that the whole being roofied thing was no big deal but now she was finding that either Chris’ agoraphobia was contagious or else she was more affected than she’d imagined. During the day it was mostly fine; she could go out, pick up supplies, go shopping, whatever. But once the sun went down, she liked to be back in the confines of her new home. If she didn’t have errands to run, she preferred to be inside. It made scoring gigs just that much harder and her camera was seriously gathering dust. Chris didn’t comment on it. For all he knew, this was her routine all the time.

Robyn hated the camera as much as she missed it. It represented just another failure in her life. She had a proposal all written out for a movie but had done nothing to bring it to life. And now…she was a little piddling coward cowering in the house instead of just getting over herself and getting on with her life. Some days she wondered if marrying Chris was a mistake. She had a roof over her head so she had no impetus to go out and try. Or something. Maybe she needed to see a therapist. Great idea! Except she couldn’t afford one.

Fu*k, she didn’t even survive her own Jigsaw game. She failed and Chris had to come into her life and rescue her.

She was a failure in her own right and every right.

Robyn sat up and looked away from the camera. Even the slightest flickering light bulb or distant thrum of a disco beat triggered her. The disco beat took her back to that club and that Adam guy who’d tried to drug ra*e her; it made her feel afraid and vulnerable. Flickering lights take her back to that same place. Robyn didn’t pretend to understand the science of her brain; she only knew that far too many things scared her and that she didn’t know how to overcome all of them.

Pam told her constantly that she needed to just take the time she needed to heal, which Robyn supposed was at least partially true. She no longer needed to take a pill to cover a birthday party like she had after the incident. She could be in a room with strange men without feeling like she was going to suffocate. She could watch TV and see all the stories about the other survivors and not relive her own heinous game. There was a lot that used to scare Robyn that didn’t anymore.

And yet it seemed for every fear she had overcome, two more grew stronger in its place.