The Contract Marriage

Chapter 2: The Sealed Deal

Olivia’s POV

Clara reads the whole contract twice, one page at a time, while i sit across from her on the floor with my back against the couch, picking at a loose thread on my sleeve and saying nothing.

"A million dollars," Clara says finally, setting the last page down like it might bite her. "For one year of being married to a guy who looks like that and is, from what you're telling me, a total ice cube."

"He's not an ice cube, he's just." I stoped, because i don’t actually have a word for what he is. "He's cold, like, on purpose cold, like being warm would cost him something."

"Okay, so, ice cube." Clara pulls her knees up to her chest, "Livvy, you got dumped over a text this morning, this morning and now you're telling me some rich guy wants to marry you by Friday."

"I know how it sounds."

"I don't think you do, actually, because you're sitting there so calm about it and I'm about to lose my mind." Clara pushes the folder back across the table, "Talk me through it, What happens if you say no?"

"Nothing happens, i go back to being the girl outside his office nobody notices, i keep sleeping on your couch until I figure out rent again and life goes on."

"And if you say yes?"

I look at the folder like it might have changed since the last time she looked, "I get paid enough to actually have a life, i get my own apartment, i pay off what's left of my loans, i stop checking my account before I buy coffee." She lets out a breath, "For pretending to be married to my boss for a year."

"That's not a small thing you're glossing over, though, pretending, in front of people, all the time." Clara's voice softens. "What if you slip up? What if you actually fall for the guy and he's just doing a job?"

I burst out laughing, but there's not much behind it. "Trust me, that's not going to happen. You should've seen his face today, he talked about his own grandfather dying with less feeling than I use to talk about my grocery list."

"That's not exactly reassuring either."

"No," i agreed, "It's not."

We sit with it a while, somewhere outside, a car alarm goes off and stops, clara reaches over and squeezes my hand.

"Whatever you pick, I'm with you, i just want you thinking with your head tonight and not with whatever Daniel left broken this morning."

"That's the thing," i said quietly, "I think my head is the only part of me that can even look at this right now, everything else is still stuck on his text."

I didn’t sleep much, I just lie on the pull-out with the contract folder on the floor beside me and runs the numbers in my head until they blur, rent I don’t have, a degree I’m still paying for, a mother back home who thinks I’m doing better than she is. Somewhere around three in the morning, the number stops being a number and starts being a way out, and once it's a way out, it's hard to unsee it as one.

By seven, I’ve showered and dressed and I have read every line of the contract twice, including the parts written in the kind of language lawyers use so regular people give up halfway through. There's a clause about public appearances, a clause about where i’ll live with him, a clause about what happens if either of them is caught with someone else during the year, a clause near the bottom about what i get if i walk away early, which is nothing, and what i get if I stay the full year, which is everything we talked about.

I’m outside Ethan Ashford's office by 8:55, five minutes early this time, contract in hand.

Priya waves me straight in without even buzzing him first, "He's been asking if you're here since eight," she says under her breath, "Good luck."

Ethan doesn't look up when i walk in, he's on the phone, saying something short and final to whoever's on the other end, and he ends the call the second she sits down like he timed it that way.

"You read it," he says, It didn’t sound like a question.

"Twice."

"And?"

I set the folder on his desk and slide it back toward him, my hand steadier than i expected it to be, "I have conditions."

Something shifts in his face, not quite surprise, more like he's recalculating, "You're in no position to negotiate?"

"You need a wife by a date that's already picked out for you and i'm the one you asked, i'd say I'm in exactly the position to negotiate."

For a second, I thinks i saw the start of something like respect cross his face, there and gone fast, same as everything else with him, "Go on."

"I keep my job, not as your assistant's assistant, an actual job, actual work, so this doesn't look like I only exist because of you," i count it off on my fingers, the way i practiced in the mirror an hour ago, "I keep my own name in anything that isn't the marriage license and I want it in writing that this doesn't turn into anything real, no blurred lines, no" i wave a hand, "whatever people think happens in these situations. It's a job, i want it treated like one."

Ethan studies me for a long moment, the kind of look that makes me want to fill the silence, and i make myself not fill it.

"Fine," he says, "All three."

I blinked, i expected a fight, "That's it? Fine?"

"I don't need a wife who resents me for a year. Resentment gets noticed, noticed gets us caught." He pulls a pen from the drawer and sets it in front of me, along with a second copy of the contract, already changed, like he'd guessed i'd ask for exactly this, "I had my lawyer draft this version last night, sign where it's marked."

I stare at the pen like it's heavier than it looks, "You already had it changed? Before I even said yes?"

"I don't waste time hoping, I plan for the likely outcome." For the first time, something almost like the edge of a smile touches his mouth, and it's gone so fast I’m not sure i saw it at all. "You're smart, you did the math last night the same way I did it six days ago, there was never really another answer."

It should make me angry, being read that easily by a man i barely know, instead it just makes me tired, tired and oddly relieved, like being caught out means i don’t have to keep pretending i wasn't already leaning yes on the walk over.

I pick up the pen.

"One more thing," i said, before the tip touches the page,"If we're doing this, I need to know what I'm walking into, reporters, family, and your ex girlfriend thing that you didn't want to talk about yesterday."

The words lands the same way it did the day before, something closing behind his eyes, quick and total. "You'll know what you need to know, when you need to know it."

"That's not an answer."

"It's the only one you're getting today." He nods at the page,"Sign, Ms. Bennett."

I hold his eyes for a second longer than i need to, just so he knows i noticed him dodge it, then i look down and sign my name on the line that's been waiting for it.

Ethan signs under mine a moment later, quick, no hesitation, like he's done it a hundred times in his head already. He closes the folder and stands, straightening his jacket, already moving on to whatever's next in his day.

"There's a dinner Saturday," he says. "With my family, what's left of it, they'll want to meet you before the announcement goes out." He checks his watch, "Wear something that isn't office clothes, I’ll have the driver come pick you up at six."

"Wait, saturday? That's two days."

"Did you think we had time to ease into this?" He's already at the door, already half gone from the conversation, "My birthday is in five weeks, Ms. Bennett, there's no slow version of this."

He leaves me standing there with an empty pen in my hand and a version of my own name on a legal documents I’m still not sure I believe is real. Through the glass wall i could see Priya watching me, eyebrows raised, silently mouthing well?

I don’t have an answer for her either, i just walk out, past my old desk that isn't going to feel like just a desk anymore, and starts trying to figure out what a person is even supposed to wear to meet the family of a man who is, as of about ninety seconds ago, my fiancé.