The Marriage Proposal

By Ava Catori

He’s wasting his future. Her future is going nowhere fast.

Michael Davidson, playboy entrepreneur, is going through money like water. His reputation is shot, and his partying ways have done nothing to help business. With his family’s company on the line, his father demands he settle down and clean up his image, or he’s out. Out of the business, out on his own, and out of family money to play with.

Natalie Cooper thought she’d be a top model by now. The only thing moving to New York did was drain her bank account and leave her frustrated. In a lucky break, an opportunity of a lifetime comes her way. The only problem is what she’ll have to give up to win the prestigious job she’s looking to land—being Michael’s trophy wife.

Can they strike a deal or will feelings get in the way? Complications are the last thing Michael needs. He wants his freedom, not a wife. Natalie, on the other hand, wants a secure future, but not with Michael. What they find is something they never intended…love.

Note: This book was previously released as “Contractual Obligation” in 2013. It has since been completely revised and updated.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Ava Catori Books
• Release date: Oct 21, 2013
• ISBN: 9781502221001

Book preview

Chapter 1

Kent Davidson slammed the paper onto the conference room table. "You made the goddamn front page of The Times."

Michael pulled the newspaper closer and examined the photo. He didn’t remember the girl’s name, but he was pretty sure he’d had a good time. Honestly, the night was a blur. His arrogance knew no bounds. At least they got my good side.

Every flipping night you’re out there partying and another embarrassing photo surfaces. I refuse to let you run Bowman Industries into the ground with your soiled reputation. I’ve worked too damn hard building this company. Either settle your ass down and get married by the time you’re thirty, or go find another job. I’ve had enough.

Haven’t you been married enough for both of us? The sarcasm in Michael’s voice wasn’t doing him any favors. Besides, that only gives me a year. It’s ridiculous. I’m not ready to settle down.

Kent growled ferociously at his son. You leave my history out of this. I don’t get my picture splashed all over the papers in shameful drunken poses. You don’t think I’m serious? I’m as serious as a heart attack. Get your shit together, Michael. The game is over. You can have a lifetime of success with Bowman Industries, take over when I retire, or you can go build your own empire. You’re finished screwing up my company.

No, you just make the papers for all of your divorces, Michael answered. What are we up to now? Wife number five?

Get your shit together, boy. It’s time to grow up and take responsibility. How do you expect me to advance your career, when all you do is piss off the board and our stockholders? You’re primed and ready, and have a good business sense about you. Michael, you’re a natural, but until you get your personal life in order I refuse to give you any more power in this company. I’ve spoken to James. He’ll be dropping by with a few files later. Pick out a wife, Michael, and pick a good one.

Shit. A wife? He wasn’t anywhere ready for a wife.

Kent ran his fingers through his silver hair. He huffed, then turned and walked away before he went off on his son again. Michael was a genius in the business world, but his personal life was holding him back. He’d had enough. It would pain him to cut his son loose, but after enough years of the ongoing nonsense, Kent Davidson was done.

Bowman Industries was his baby. It had grown leaps and bounds in the last ten years. He’d worked his ass off and refused to let his son tear it down with a lousy playboy reputation.

Michael excused himself from the room. His dad would get over it, just like he always did. He’d let him blow off his steam like usual, and things would calm down soon enough. Life would go on as it always had.

Rounding the corner to his office, Michael smiled at his assistant. He’d bedded her the first time he took her out, and then once again for good measure. He was grateful she wasn’t clingy, since she already had a husband. She was in it for the good times, and the better position as his first assistant. The money was worth it, and the occasional romp in bed was simply a bonus.

Sure, he was a charmer, a total playboy, and had hands that had never worked a day of hard labor in his life, but he was also a great lover and had a big...well, you know.

Allison followed Michael into his office, and dropped some files. She smelled of honeysuckle. I separated what needs immediate attention, highlighted emails you should take a look at, and freed up a slot on your schedule for your meeting with James. Your father said it was a priority.

James? His eyebrow arched. He wasn’t serious, was he?

Excuse me?

Nothing. He shook his head. He didn’t have time for this nonsense, and wanted no part of settling down. Settling down did nothing for you; women were gold diggers looking for an easy life, and he’d never find one woman who would satisfy his needs. Boredom always set in. Next thing he knew, he’d be out sniffing around for something new and exciting.

If you need anything, his assistant said as she walked toward the door, just say the word. What she wanted was another lunchtime quickie like they’d had a few months ago. Things at home were stale, and with the small fling, she could fantasize and believe her life was more interesting than she knew it was.

Thanks Ally. He didn’t look up; he was already buried in one of the files. Michael ran his hand through his dark hair and stared at the papers in front of him. Sorting through his priorities, he turned to his computer and read the prioritized email. Normally focused, his mind scattered, wondering what his future held.

Was his father serious? How did he expect him to meet his dream girl and marry her within a year’s time, when he hadn’t even found a girl to hold his interest for more than a week or two? Usually within two or three days, he’d grow bored. The women at the clubs were all just looking to get drunk and laid. For a second in time, they wanted to forget that Mommy and Daddy had been too busy to spend any time with them in life and blindly threw cash their way to make-up for their lack of attention. The socialites were out trying to fill a void, just like Michael was.

He was a man-child, unwilling to grow up, unwilling to let go of his party life. He didn’t want a wife. He’d end up marrying and divorcing woman after woman like his father. It wasn’t the life he wanted.

Michael spun his office chair and caught his reflection in the shaded window that overlooked the city. He’d held up well and was in his prime. He refused to give up the best years of his life to appease his father. It was absurd.

Michael put a call into James. James, how are you today? Great, great. I’m calling to let you know I won’t need those files after all. Right, go ahead and cancel our afternoon appointment. I have some business to attend to. No, no, I’ll give you a shout when I have a few minutes later this week.

He hung up the phone and grinned, knowing he’d just outmaneuvered his dad. Easy enough. It was time to put the brakes on his father’s plans.

Within moments, his phone rang. Looking at the caller ID, he cursed. Shit. Seriously, that fast?

Your canceled appointment has been moved up. He’ll be in your office in twenty minutes, and I’m on my way, too. I wasn’t kidding, Michael. It’s time to make a choice— your personal life or business. Have Allison push all of your other appointments back.

Michael stared ahead, annoyed that his father was putting him on the spot like this. It would serve him right if he got up and left the office now, but realized he’d just be putting off the inevitable. Fudge. He closed his eyes, counted to ten, and let the stress drain out. The stupid-ass meeting with his father and James was the last thing he wanted to deal with today. He finally answered. Fine.

***

Kent stormed into Michael’s office. James trailed behind him. There was no small talk. Kent jumped right in. James researched a large group of women from a local modeling agency. They were offered a job opportunity. They know this is an arranged marriage situation and that we’re looking for a trophy wife. We didn’t pull any punches. The agency sent James a list of possibilities. After a bunch of women applied, James weeded through them and picked out a handful that might be of interest.

Michael snorted. So, you just plucked through some models, and offered them cash to be seen as my partner. Wow, real class act, Dad.

Watch your tone, he snapped. Turning his attention to James, Kent continued, You can leave the files with Michael.

James nodded.

Kent turned back to his son. When you’ve made your selection, let James know so he can make arrangements. Don’t take too much time, and if it comes down to more than one, don’t take long making your choice. We need to get things rolling. We could use some good publicity for a change, and an engagement might be just the weapon of choice.

Michael glared at his father.

That will be all, James. Thank you for your time and discretion, as always.

Is this how you meet your wives, Dad? Hiring models that have nothing better to do than hang on the arm of an old man?

One of us has to run this company, and you’re apparently too busy partying.

It never interferes, he shot out. I’m damn good at what I do.

And you’ve got an incredible future, if you’d stop ruining your reputation and taking this company down with you. Mom would...

Don’t. His hand shot up. Don’t bring her into this.

Kent looked at his son. I’ll check in later with you. I’ve got a meeting to go to.

Michael watched his father leave the room. His life would have been different if his mother were still alive. Instead, all he saw was his father use women and dump them when he got bored, right before their contract stated they would collect big. He’d let them believe they’d make it, but it was all planned. And with a confidentiality contract, if they opened their mouths, they left with nothing. They had to settle for a smaller settlement than they thought they were going to get going into the marriage.

He didn’t even want to look at the stupid files. Five folders sat on his desk, all women willing to sell their souls for a few bucks. That’s not what Michael wanted in a wife. He figured one day he’d fall in love the traditional way. Somebody would capture his heart and soul, and he wouldn’t want to be without her. Isn’t that how it’s done? Instead, he had files to rifle through, pictures to look at, and nonsense information to decide on— matchmaking at its worst.

He wondered if his father even remembered what it was like to be in love. He used to talk about his mother, share details of their lives as they were starting out, but he rarely mentioned her these days.

Michael barely remembered her. He was a toddler when the accident happened, but he knew how much his father loved her by the way he would look at her picture. There was something softer in his eyes, and when he’d speak of her...Michael wished he’d gotten the chance to spend more time with her.

When his first step mother came around, he thought it would be nice to have a woman in the house, but he was sadly mistaken. She took no interest in mothering a child; shopping and lunches filled her days. Through the years, it was an endless parade of shallow women who were in it for the money, and fully aware what they were there for. How did his father expect him to live the same kind of life? What about love?

Michael dropped his head into his hands. He’d have to open the folders eventually.

They were attractive women, but the idea of picking through them to choose a mate made him feel like he was shopping. It cheapened the experience. He tried to read the bio and information that went with each, but they couldn’t hold his focus. He’d gone through the first three folders and tossed them aside. There were two folders left to look at. Michael’s stomach churned. He hated everything about the process.

Picking up folder four, something happened. A dark-haired beauty stared back at him, not with the usual blank stare, but with depth and vulnerability. It was all an act, he reminded himself. She applied for this damn job. She’d be as shallow as the rest of them. He tossed the folder aside and opened the last folder. There she was. He knew it in an instant. Something in his gut told him, she’d be the one to meet. Reality check. As gorgeous as she was, she’d applied for the position like the rest of them and was in this for the money.

He appraised her photo. Why would she take a job like this? She was obviously more than capable of meeting men. Or was she a lesbian, not wanting to bother with them? This would be an easy solution; a loveless marriage, one where she didn’t have to care, just make a few appearances with him.

He’d dated a few models in his time, but most were mindless tramps looking for the next party, the next cock to ride, and for someone else to pay the bill for the champagne. Would she be any different?

The entire situation was ridiculous. He closed the folder and pushed it back on his desk. He’d meet someone on his own. He didn’t need his father’s lawyer and personal assistant setting him up. Thinking back, he couldn’t come up with one single woman that he’d dated over the past few years that he’d want to make his wife.

Pulling the file back into his view, he opened the folder. If he was going to play this game, he might as well choose a gorgeous girl, and this model was the cream of the crop. There was something that stood out, a vibrancy.

After listing every possible reason that he didn’t want to follow through, he finally pushed himself to take the next step. He sent a text to James’s phone that simply said, Number 5.  Michael’s stomach knotted. It felt wrong, but the wheels were already in motion.

Chapter 2

Natalie Cooper ran down the flight of stairs. Her heart thundered with each step. She yanked the glass door open and rushed outside. The row of yellow cabs that was usually parked alongside the curb had almost diminished. Only two remained. Just as she made it to the sidewalk, one more pulled away. Her arm shot up in a panic. She needed that last cab. She was almost to the curb when her heel broke.

Crap.

Natalie bent over to rip off the damaged shoe. She snagged the spike of her heel that sat separated on the ground. Standing upright, she was just in time to see her cab drive away with somebody else in it.

Come on! Natalie groaned, then reeled back and threw her shoe at the cab. She missed it by more than a few feet. What the hell?

People rarely paid attention in New York. She was just another person having a moment on an overly crowded sidewalk. Annoyed and stuck, she walked lopsided as she went to retrieve her shoe.

At least they weren’t expensive shoes. She couldn’t afford more than one pair of those. Natalie sighed and pulled off the matching shoe. She spotted a trashcan and tossed them away. There was a discount shoe place around the corner. Thirty bucks, and she’d be out the door in another crappy pair of shoes. It’s not like she could afford to throw another thirty bucks down the drain, but what other choice was there? Her credit cards were already pushing their limits, and the last thing she wanted was to waste money right now. If she didn’t figure something out soon, she’d be in a rash of trouble.

Cabs were one of the few luxuries she still