Page 9 of Marry Me, Right Now

“I assume this is generally your TV room?”

“Yeah, the main room is sort of bright if you want to watch anything before sunset. Also, I don’t really like having a screen when I have parties. People always end up staring at it instead of the people they should be catching up with.”

“Do

you throw a lot of parties?”

“Every month or two I’ll have some people over for a drink. It’s usually pretty casual. Maybe twenty to thirty people.”

Having a home that could fit that many people would certainly make parties easier, I thought.

We went back to the living room, and I pulled my notebook out of my purse while he plated up the pasta, setting it on the dining room table. I noticed that he set our places together at the corner, so we’d be facing each other at an angle. This was non-confrontational body positioning, perfect for building trust. Perhaps he read psychology books and articles as I did. As a CEO, he certainly should.

I set my notebook down, then went to fetch our wine glasses while he got the cutlery. “Getting down to business?” he joked, but he seemed to approve.

“Yeah. I think I’m going to have to make a list of pros and cons and details here. It’s sort of a huge deal.”

“And there is a big question that we should clear up first,” he said, sipping his wine and leaning back into his chair. He looked so relaxed while discussing something that would monumentally change my entire life. “The inheritance is eight million dollars. What do you think is fair for your share of that?”

My muscles all seemed to clench at once, and my heart thumped awkwardly. “I thought you said I could live here.”

“Yes, of course. I’ll also get you a credit card to cover all of the expenses of being my wife. I’ll need you to have a selection of outfits that are standard for corporate events, and I’ll need you to accompany me to family and work functions now and then. With the time and trouble and personal weirdness that you’ll be going through, you certainly deserve a cut.”

I couldn’t speak. He wanted to pay me for living large like this? I took a deep breath tried to collect myself.

“My uncle’s house will be mine, of course, as that should stay in the family. But the money should be shared between us. What would be a fair amount to you?”

“Um.” My mind raced. What would the most sensible line of thought be here? It was difficult to think logically when he had such a tense, concerned expression. “I have nearly thirty thousand dollars in student debt. So, any amount that you think is fair will go toward that.”

“I was thinking an even million. That’s four times a good year’s salary, considering that this will rearrange your entire life for likely at least a year and a half, and although your actual work will be sporadic, it will occasionally be a full-time gig.”

My mouth fell open, then snapped shut. Jacob went to get us water, and set the glasses in front of us while I stared at the bits of pepper in the pasta sauce. “Thank you,” I finally said, taking a small sip. My fingers were obviously shaking.

My lungs expanded, my shoulders dropped, and I forced myself to calm down. “All you would need from me is to play the part of your wife?”

“Yes. We’ll have to figure out the details as we go along, but you’re a nice girl. You’re beautiful, obviously smart, funny, and you have a laid back vibe. You’re everything a man could want in a fake wife,” he winked. “I’m sure that we can work it out.”

I nodded, taking a slow bite of pasta. My mind was short-circuiting.

“How about we keep chatting as if you’ve already said yes to this, just to keep the ball rolling?”

“Sure, that’s fair,” I said.

“There will be lots of awkward conversations, so let’s just muddle through.”

“Okay, hit me.”

“Are you okay with taking my last name? Because if that doesn’t happen, it’s going to be a gigantic issue with my family.”

I nodded, contemplating, while he took a few bites. “The feminist part of me says that a woman should keep her name or change her name according to her guts, not societal pressure. But the part of me that says I really need the money, and I’m not really attached to my last name, says go for it.”

“Are you sure you’re okay with it?”

“Yeah. When your last name is Brown, you’re not very connected to it.”

“At least people can’t easily stalk you,” he joked.

“It’s the same color as my hair, so it’s easy to remember.”

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