Leah Carter balanced her coffee cup on her knee and glared at the stack of discharge papers on her clipboard. The night shift at St. Anne's was chaos - again. Babies crying, alarms beeping, doctors barking orders like drill sergeants. It was the kind of shift that made her wonder why she ever thought nursing was a calling and not a cosmic punishment.

Somewhere between triage and an IV change, her phone buzzed.

Adrian Blake.

She almost dropped her pen. She hadn't saved his number, but the name popped up anyway - the man who, thanks to one bureaucratic disaster, was now legally her husband.

She swiped the screen and hissed, "What?"

His voice came smooth and unhurried, like someone who'd never been yelled at by an ER doctor in his life. "Good evening, Mrs. Blake."

"Don't call me that," she said through gritted teeth. "I'm up to my elbows in blood pressure cuffs."

"I'll be brief," he said, unbothered. "We have a situation."

Leah rolled her eyes. "We had a situation. It's called a marriage certificate. I assume your assistant is already fixing it."

"That's the problem." Adrian's tone tightened. "My grandmother saw the notice online."

Leah froze. "The what?"

"The public marriage registry updates automatically. Apparently, she checks it weekly. Don't ask why."

"Oh, I wouldn't dare," Leah muttered. "So what happened?"

"She called. Twice. Then told my entire family she's flying in from Boston to meet my wife."

Leah pinched the bridge of her nose. "Oh no."

"Oh yes," Adrian said dryly. "Which brings me to my proposal."

She laughed humorlessly. "You're proposing again? Should I start picking floral arrangements?"

"Very funny. I need you to pretend to be my wife for a few weeks. Just until my grandmother leaves the country again."

Leah blinked. "You're out of your mind."

"Possibly," he admitted, "but it's the simplest solution. If I file for annulment now, she'll think something's wrong. She'll never stop asking questions. But if we pretend-"

"Pretend to be married," she interrupted, incredulous. "That's your big idea?"

"It's practical," he said evenly. "I'll handle the legal side. You won't have to pay a thing. In fact, I'll compensate you for your time."

Leah stared at the monitors blinking above the nurse's station, wondering what alternate universe she'd stumbled into. "You want to pay me to be your fake wife?"

"I prefer the term temporary partner in deception."

She snorted. "Oh, that makes it sound so much better."

"I'm serious, Leah. My grandmother is... persistent. And she's already telling the press."

"The press?" Her voice went up an octave. "You didn't mention you were famous!"

"I'm not famous. Just... newsworthy. My firm handles high-profile cases."

Leah rubbed her temples. "This just keeps getting better."

"I'll make it worth your while," Adrian said quietly. "A stipend. Plus, I'll cover any inconvenience."

She hesitated. She could use the money - between rent, her sister's college fees, and her ancient car, her budget was one bad day away from collapse. But this? This was lunacy.

"Why me?" she asked finally. "You could hire someone."

"I don't trust strangers," he said simply. "You, unfortunately, are already legally bound to me. And you didn't seem the type to exploit the situation."

Leah exhaled, staring at the cup of cold coffee in her hand. "This is insane."

"Completely," he agreed. "But it might save us both a lot of trouble."

Silence stretched between them, filled only by the distant hum of hospital machines.

Finally, Leah said, "I'll think about it."

"That's all I ask," he said softly. "Goodnight, Mrs- Leah."

She hung up before he could finish.

---

By morning, Leah's head was pounding from lack of sleep and too many impossible thoughts. She stared at the crumpled marriage certificate still buried in her bag. Maybe this was a nightmare. Maybe she'd wake up and laugh about it.

Except when she opened her locker at the hospital, a single white envelope slipped out - neat handwriting, embossed initials: A.B.

Inside was a note.

> Dinner. 7 p.m. Le Jardin. We'll discuss terms.

- A.

Leah groaned aloud. "Terms. Like I'm signing a lease."

Her friend Tasha peeked over her shoulder. "Ooh, fancy restaurant. New boyfriend?"

Leah sighed. "Something like that."

Tasha grinned. "About time, girl."

Leah forced a smile. If only she knew.

[End of Episode 2]

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Le Jardin looked like the kind of place where even the air cost money.

Soft jazz played under warm lighting, waiters glided instead of walked, and the menu didn't list prices - a sure sign it was out of Leah's budget and possibly her comfort zone.

She hesitated at the entrance, adjusting the single nice dress she owned - a pale blue wrap dress that said I'm trying more than I belong here.

And then she saw him.

Adrian Blake, already seated, suit jacket draped neatly over the back of his chair, tie loosened just enough to look effortlessly elegant. He glanced at his watch before spotting her, and the faintest flicker of relief crossed his face.

"Leah," he said, standing. "You came."

"Against my better judgment," she muttered, sitting across from him.

He smiled faintly, signaling the waiter. "Still, I'm glad you did."

---

The waiter poured water, disappeared, and left them in a bubble of awkward silence.

"So," Leah said finally, "you wanted to talk about... terms?"

Adrian nodded, pulling a small folder from his briefcase.

Of course he had a folder.

"Just a few guidelines," he said. "This arrangement only needs to last six weeks. My grandmother's visit begins next week and ends after the charity gala mid-month. Once she leaves, we can quietly file for annulment."

"Six weeks," Leah repeated. "Like a really bad summer job."

"Something like that," Adrian said, ignoring her sarcasm. "In return, I'll provide a monthly stipend for your time - plus any expenses related to maintaining the illusion."

Leah blinked. "Expenses?"

"Clothing, transportation, social events. You'll be expected to attend dinners, possibly the gala. Nothing invasive. Strictly appearances."

She leaned back, crossing her arms. "You've done this before, haven't you?"

Adrian arched an eyebrow. "Arranged fake marriages? Not recently."

"Recently?" she echoed.

He almost smiled. "That was a joke."

"Was it?"

For a moment, his expression softened. "You really don't trust me, do you?"

"Would you?" she shot back. "One day I'm a nurse trying to survive a double shift, the next I'm accidentally married to a walking Armani ad who wants to rent me like a prop."

He looked at her steadily. "I'm offering a solution. Not exploitation."

Something in his tone - quiet, restrained - made her pause. Beneath all that polish, there was a man trying very hard not to lose control of something.

Leah exhaled slowly. "All right. Say I agree. What are the rules?"

He opened the folder again, flipping to a neat list typed on his firm's letterhead.

"Rule one," he began, "we maintain public appearances as a married couple. Family dinners, social events, photographs if necessary."

"Photographs?" Leah's eyes widened. "Like... couple photos?"

"Discreet ones," he said, lips twitching. "My grandmother is fond of scrapbooks."

"Of course she is," Leah muttered. "Go on."

"Rule two," he continued, "no interference in each other's personal lives. This arrangement is business. You can continue your work as usual. I'll make sure my schedule doesn't interfere."

"Generous of you," she said dryly.

He ignored the jab. "Rule three - discretion. The fewer people who know, the better. My assistant will handle logistics, but even he won't know the details."

"And rule four?" she asked.

He hesitated, then looked up. "Rule four - we have to be convincing."

Leah frowned. "Meaning?"

"Meaning," he said slowly, "my grandmother is observant. She'll notice distance. We'll need to act... familiar."

"Familiar," she repeated. "Like... holding hands?"

"Possibly."

"Smiling in public?"

"Yes."

"Kissing?"

His expression didn't change. "If absolutely necessary."

Leah nearly choked on her water. "You're out of your mind."

"I said if necessary," he replied calmly. "Purely for authenticity."

She stared at him, torn between laughing and throwing her glass at his head. "This is absurd."

"Perhaps," he said, leaning back, "but you haven't said no."

Leah bit her lip. He was right. She hadn't. Because deep down, something about this ridiculous proposal called to the part of her that needed a break - from chaos, from heartbreak, from always cleaning up other people's messes.

Adrian studied her quietly. "I'll have the contract drawn up. You can take a few days to think it over."

She stood, grabbing her bag. "Don't bother."

His brow lifted. "You're refusing?"

She gave him a steady look. "I'm accepting. Six weeks. No funny business."

His mouth curved slightly. "Understood."

"Good," she said, turning to leave.

But as she walked away, Adrian's voice followed, low and amused.

"Mrs. Blake, you might want to practice calling me by my first name. It sells the illusion."

Leah didn't turn around. "Don't push your luck, Adrian."

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If nerves could be bottled, Leah was certain she could power a small city.

She checked her reflection in the mirror one last time - soft curls, neutral lipstick, the black dress Adrian's assistant had delivered that morning with a note that simply read, "Dinner. 7 p.m. Dress code: elegant."

Elegant. Right. The last "elegant" event Leah had attended was a hospital fundraiser where she'd spilled champagne on her supervisor.

Her phone buzzed. A text from Adrian:

> Driver's outside. Don't be late, Mrs. Blake.

Leah rolled her eyes. "Bossy much," she muttered, grabbing her clutch and heading out.

---

The car ride to the Blakes' estate felt like something out of a movie - long driveway, manicured hedges, and a mansion that could easily double as a luxury hotel. Leah stared out the window, trying to ignore the knot forming in her stomach.

"This is ridiculous," she whispered to herself. "Just smile, be polite, and don't faint."

The driver opened her door, and there he was. Adrian stood on the steps in a charcoal suit that looked tailored by angels. He checked his watch again - of course he did - before turning toward her.

"You're on time," he said, sounding almost surprised.

"Try not to sound so shocked," she said, stepping out.

His eyes flicked over her briefly - assessing, approving, maybe even impressed. "You clean up well."

"Gee, thanks," she said flatly. "You make it sound like I usually crawl out of dumpsters."

His lips twitched. "I meant it as a compliment."

She gave a small huff and followed him up the stairs.

---

Inside, the house was a museum of perfection - gleaming floors, crystal chandeliers, and artwork that probably had its own insurance policy. Leah tried not to gawk, but her eyes betrayed her.

"You live here?" she whispered.

"My grandmother does," Adrian said. "I have an apartment downtown. Less... dramatic."

"'Dramatic' is one word for it. 'Castle' might be another."

Before he could respond, a voice floated from the grand staircase - warm, commanding, and utterly delighted.

"Adrian! And this must be my new granddaughter!"

Leah turned, and there she was - Eleanor Blake - the kind of woman who could run a company, a family, and possibly a small country without breaking a sweat. Her silver hair was swept into an elegant chignon, pearls gleaming against a tailored navy gown.

Leah smiled nervously. "Mrs. Blake, it's such a pleasure-"

"Oh, nonsense," Eleanor interrupted, taking both her hands. "Call me Grandmother. We're family now."

Leah blinked. "Right. Grandmother."

Adrian gave a faint cough, clearly suppressing amusement.

---

Dinner was served in a dining room large enough to host a wedding reception. Leah sat between Adrian and Eleanor, who seemed determined to learn everything about her new "granddaughter."

"So, Leah," Eleanor began, ladling soup with graceful precision. "Adrian tells me you're a nurse. How wonderful! You must have such a kind heart."

Leah smiled, trying to appear composed. "I like to think so. Though sometimes my heart's just tired."

Eleanor laughed softly. "Honesty. How refreshing. Adrian could use a little more of that."

Leah risked a glance at him. "Oh, I don't know. He's very... straightforward."

"Stubborn," Eleanor corrected.

"Focused," Adrian countered smoothly.

Leah added, "Control freak."

Eleanor's laughter filled the room. "You two are perfect."

Leah nearly choked on her soup. Adrian shot her a warning glance that clearly said, Don't ruin this.

---

Halfway through dinner, Leah started to relax - at least until Eleanor said, "So, how did you two meet?"

The spoon froze halfway to Leah's mouth.

Adrian didn't flinch. Of course he didn't. The man probably had backup stories for backup stories.

"At city hall," he said smoothly. "I was signing documents for my firm, and Leah was there-"

"Filing for a marriage certificate," Leah blurted before she could stop herself.

Eleanor gasped, delighted. "Love at first sight?"

Leah blinked. "Um-"

Adrian cut in, "Something like that."

Eleanor clasped her hands together. "How romantic! I always knew you'd find someone unexpected, Adrian. The universe has a way of surprising us."

Leah forced a laugh, praying her face didn't look as guilty as she felt.

---

Dessert arrived - something French and delicate that Leah was afraid to touch. As she toyed with her fork, she felt a nudge against her hand. Adrian's.

She glanced up, startled.

Eleanor was watching them with an indulgent smile. Adrian leaned in slightly, voice low. "Smile," he murmured through his teeth.

Leah's pulse jumped. "You're enjoying this way too much," she whispered back.

He didn't deny it. His thumb brushed her hand, just once, before pulling away.

The gesture was simple - necessary, even - but Leah felt her stomach twist all the same.

---

After dinner, Eleanor insisted on a photo "for the family album." Leah stood beside Adrian, trying to ignore how close he was - the faint scent of his cologne, the warmth radiating from his arm.

Eleanor positioned them expertly. "Closer, darlings. Yes, like that. Oh, Adrian, put your arm around her - perfect!"

The photographer snapped the shot. Leah exhaled, willing her heart to calm down.

When it was finally over, Eleanor kissed her cheek. "I'm so happy you're part of the family, dear. Don't let him work too much."

"I'll try," Leah said softly.

"Good girl. And Adrian," Eleanor added, turning to him, "I expect you both at the charity gala next week. I want everyone to meet your lovely wife."

Leah's smile faltered. "Gala?"

Adrian gave a tight smile. "Wouldn't miss it."

---

Outside, the cool night air hit Leah like relief. She folded her arms and turned to him. "You didn't mention a gala."

"It slipped my mind."

"Slipped-Adrian!" she hissed. "I can't go to some high-society event pretending to be Mrs. Perfect! I don't even own shoes that won't murder my feet after two hours!"

He looked at her, calm as ever. "Then I'll buy you a pair."

"That's not the point!"

"Then what is?"

She hesitated. "The point is... I don't belong in your world."

Something flickered in his expression - just for a second. "Maybe not," he said quietly, "but tonight, you handled yourself better than most people I know."

Leah blinked, caught off guard. "Was that... a compliment?"

His lips curved. "Don't let it go to your head."

She sighed, climbing into the car. "You're impossible."

"And yet," he murmured, holding the door for her, "you agreed to marry me."

Leah shot him a look. "By accident."

He smiled faintly, the corner of his mouth lifting in that maddeningly confident way. "Accidents can be... interesting."

As the car pulled away, Leah stared out the window, trying to ignore the flutter in her chest.

Six weeks, she told herself. Just six weeks.

So why did it already feel like trouble?

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