The Proposal pt2
I feel like I have been punched in the gut. "How the hell do you know my business?" I exclaim, my voice rising as the anger over this violation of privacy comes to the surface.
"I make it my business to know everything about the person I am dealing with," Alex says, remaining completely calm. Touché. Okay, so I did my homework too, but I certainly did not go into this level of scrutiny. How the hell did he access my bank account? How does he know about my mother?
I fight to calm my emotions, and take a deep breath, knowing that I can't let this situation spin out of control because I am too chickenshit to do what needs to be done. "Okay, so you know why I need the manuscript so much," I mutter, knowing that my anger has turned my face red, and I can feel my heart beating rapidly.
Alex continues in his maddeningly calm manner as if my outburst hadn't even occurred. "I am proposing that we get married, which will solve a major headache for me, and in return, you will get your manuscript. Plus I will pay for your mother's care and settle your debts."
"Okay, I get the manuscript, but why would you want to pay for my mother's care? And my debts are nothing to do with you," I say quietly, my mind spinning as to why a perfect stranger would want to do this for me.
"Look, I am not a complete arsehole. You would have to commit to being married to me for a year; it would need to be that long to make sure that my parents believe that we married for love…" Alex fidgets in his seat, and I can see that he is not as cool as he is trying to make out he is.
"What do you mean, love?" I ask, seriously quite confused at this statement. Clearly what we are talking about is nothing to do with emotions and everything about a business transaction.
Alex lets out a deep sigh and pushes his hand through his hair in a gesture that I am quickly getting used to. "My parents met when they were seventeen and have been together ever since, sickeningly in love. And all they want for me and my siblings is to find what they have. They may try and match-make the hell out of me, but they mean well and would never try and force a marriage of convenience on any of us, even for money. Which is why they would have to believe that this is real," Alex replies.
"If you have such a great relationship with your parents, then why don't you tell them the truth? I mean, your 'alternative lifestyle' can't be that bad, can it?" I say, doing my best to keep the bitterness out of my mouth. Suddenly something strikes me. "It's not illegal, is it? I mean, please don't tell me you torture small animals or things like that. Or are you gay?"
"No, I am not gay.” Alex lets out a loud laugh, a genuine smile stretching across his face and transforming his features. "And it is nothing illegal. It…it's just not something that they would understand. Look, I don't even expect you to get it, and it's not something I feel comfortable sharing with you at this time anyway.
"So for the next year, you would be required to live with me." Seeing my look of confusion, as I am certainly not in any position to move to Australia, he clarifies, "I have a house in London, so you can stay there and still be able to visit your mother and carry on your job. I travel a lot for business, so I wouldn't be around that much, meaning you would have the run of the place. And for the year that we are together, I will make sure that you are looked after, your bills are paid and your mother is taken care of."
My face must display my unease at his words. "As my wife, you will be expected to attend certain functions. You will be mixing with people who are, shall we say, quite snobby, so you will be expected to dress and act the part. It is only fair that you are compensated for it. If you are to agree to our arrangement, I will get a prenuptial agreement drawn up and we can go from there," Alex finishes, an expectant look on his face. I can tell from the kind of person that he is, he's probably used to people jumping at his command, agreeing with him instantly, but I need a moment to gather my thoughts.
"So let me get this straight," I say seriously. "If I agree to marry you for one year, then you will let me buy the manuscript and you will pay my expenses during the course of the year?" In my mind's eye, I see a giant grandfather clock going tick-tock, tick-tock, a countdown as I consider my future.
"In a nutshell…" Alex trails off as I stare at the tablecloth, my mind whirring with everything Alex has just said.
"Look, Olivia, I know this is a lot to take in, but I think for both of us, time is of the essence. I have ordered us some food, so let's just forget about everything for the moment and enjoy our meal, and then perhaps you can go away and have a think about my proposal," Alex suggests placidly as if we have been discussing a simple business deal and not friggin' marriage.
Alex gets up and presses a button on the wall. A couple of minutes later a waiter walks in, carrying two plates. As he sets them down in front of us, I can see a fillet of beef Wellington, green beans, sautéed potato and creamy mushrooms. My stomach suddenly rumbles and I realise that I am ravenous, especially because I haven't eaten since breakfast. Without asking, Alex pours me a glass of red wine and puts it in front of me.
"Um, thanks, but I don't really drink. I'll just have water if you don't mind," I say, not sure that I want to start going into the reasons why I don't drink. That is a whole can of worms for another day.
Alex gives me a quizzical look but doesn't question me, simply taking away the glass and giving me the choice of still or sparkling water instead. We both dig into our food and the silence is a welcome relief to the conversation that we have just been having. I go through everything Alex has told me and I know realistically that I don't have any other choice; I cannot risk my mother becoming homeless. I would love to scream and wail about how life is so unfair…blah, blah, blah, but the reality is that Alex's offer is actually the light at the end of a very long, dark tunnel and I just can't see any other way out of the current mess that is my life.
As I reflect on the situation, it strikes me a little like that film Indecent Proposal, but Alex is certainly way hotter than Robert Redford and I am certainly no Demi Moore. "Do you expect me to have sex with you?" I suddenly blurt out, the filter on my brain failing to kick in before my mouth takes off, as I feel the blush creep across my face.
Alex looks at me with a strangely soft expression. "No, Olivia. That is not part of this deal. Believe me when I say that I think you are far too innocent to deal with what I offer." His statement confuses the hell out of me. Innocent? At thirty-three, I would hardly think that I am some innocent virgin. I have had two long-term relationships, a couple of short, torrid affairs and a series of one-night stands, so no, I don't think so. But I am not about to start discussing my sex life with Alex. I am merely relieved that there are no expectations on his part.
I find myself pushing the remains of my meal around my plate, my stomach suddenly too full for me to take another mouthful. The food was delicious, but I don’t feel like I have fully done it justice in my current distracted state. I glance over at Alex, and as ever through this strange meeting, he seems to have remained completely calm—impassive almost. I study him under my lashes and while I certainly am attracted to him—well, what normal girl wouldn't be attracted to a gorgeous hunk with a dreamy accent?—what strikes me most is how calm I feel in his presence. I would have thought I would be a bundle of nerves, but actually, with the sex issue clarified, I feel surprisingly safe, a strange feeling for me as I have essentially been looking after myself since I was twenty.
"Okay, I'll do it," I say softly. Alex looks at me, surprise written across his expression. I don't think he thought I would make a decision so quickly.
He wipes his mouth with the pristine white cloth napkin. "Good. I'll get the papers drawn up and sent across to you first thing." Alex looks me in the eye, almost daring me to retract my acceptance of his proposal, but I look at him steadfastly.
"If you don't mind, I think I am going to head home," I say, knowing that I need to leave before I change my mind. "I think I have a migraine coming and need to take some tablets," I lie smoothly. I think Alex realises my lie when I see a shadow cross his expression, but thankfully he doesn't call me on it. Ever the gentleman, he insists on collecting my coat, helping me into it with practised ease, walking me out and putting me in his car, with strict instructions to the driver to deliver me home. I look out the window at Alex standing on the pavement, hands stuffed in his pockets, his expression strangely triumphant, as the car pulls away, and I am instantly swamped with the overwhelming sensation that life is never going to be the same.
The journey home is mercifully quick, the London traffic surprisingly light for a Wednesday evening, and when the car pulls up in front of my building, I scramble for the door handle. When I try to pay for my ride, the driver insists that it is on Mr Davenport's account. I thank him and wish him a good evening before heading inside to begin my night of contemplation over the strange situation I find myself in.