Chapter Five: Agreement Finalized
875 Words
Sasha sat at the edge of her bed, her mother’s soft breathing filling the quiet apartment. The hum of the old ceiling fan was the only other sound, spinning slowly above her as if even it was weighed down by the choices Sasha faced.
The envelope Nate had left lay unopened on her lap, the corner slightly bent from how long she’d been holding it. She stared at it like it was a ticking bomb because that’s exactly what it felt like.
Her mother coughed lightly in her sleep, turning slightly with a pained sigh. Sasha flinched. The hospital had called twice today, the tone more urgent than usual. She couldn’t keep dodging their calls forever.
With a frustrated breath, she tore the envelope open.
It wasn’t just a contract.
There was a handwritten note attached:
“This is the cleanest way I know how to say this: it’s just business. No strings, no expectations. If you say no, I won’t bother you again. But if you say yes, your mother gets the care she needs. ~Nathaniel Blackwood.”
Her eyes moved to the contract. It was professional, precise. A six-month marriage. Appearances at a few events. Living under the same roof for credibility. Monthly payments. A generous exit sum. Confidentiality clause. No physical intimacy required, Sasha raised an eyebrow at that, unless mutually agreed upon.
She shook her head. It was absurd. All of it. And yet…
She picked up her phone.
Nate was already halfway through a tense board meeting when his phone vibrated in his lap.
Ethan, seated beside him, noticed the subtle change in Nate’s expression. His jaw relaxed slightly. His fingers stopped drumming. He was reading something. And whatever it was, it caught him off guard.
From Sasha:
“Meet me tomorrow. No promises. Just questions.”
Ethan leaned closer. “Is that…?”
Nate nodded slowly. “She took the bait.”
Ethan raised a brow. “You make it sound like you’re catching a fish.”
Nate pocketed the phone and returned to the meeting. “Let’s just hope she doesn’t reel me in instead.”
The next evening, they met again. Not at the restaurant. Not at his office. But at a small, neutral café halfway between both their worlds.
Sasha was already seated when he arrived. She wore a plain black blouse, her hair pulled back, no makeup. Still beautiful, but guarded. Her eyes were sharp.
Nate greeted her cautiously. “Thanks for coming.”
“I didn’t come for you. I came for answers,” she replied, not even looking up as she stirred her coffee.
He sat across from her. “Ask anything.”
Sasha placed the contract on the table between them. “Why me?”
“You already know,” he said simply. “You don’t like me. That makes you safe.”
“Safe?”
“No messy feelings. No mixed signals. You’re the only person I can trust not to fall for me or expect anything from me emotionally.”
She scoffed. “Wow. That’s romantic.”
He ignored her sarcasm. “I’m being honest. I need someone who can act, who won’t get attached. You fit that perfectly.”
She tilted her head. “And what if I do? What if this little act of ours starts to feel too real for one of us?”
“Then we end it,” Nate said firmly. “We walk away. No questions asked.”
Sasha studied him for a long moment. “So let me get this straight, you want me to fake being in love with you, live in your house, show up at events like some trophy wife, and smile for the cameras.”
“Yes.”
“For six months.”
“Yes.”
“And in exchange, you pay me more than I’d earn in five years waiting tables and cover my mom’s hospital bills?”
“Yes.”
She leaned back in her chair, biting her lower lip.
Nate watched her, the silence between them heavy.
Finally, she spoke.
“Okay.”
Nate blinked. “Okay?”
“But,” she added sharply, “I have terms.”
He nodded. “Go on.”
“One: my mother never finds out it’s fake. As far as she’s concerned, this is real. I don’t want her worrying or thinking I’m sacrificing myself.”
“Agreed.”
“Two: I get my own room. At all times.”
He raised a brow. “You think I’d sneak into your room?”
“I think you like getting under people’s skin,” she said coolly. “I’m drawing boundaries now.”
“Fair enough.”
“Three: if you cross a line, this ends. I don’t care what’s at stake for you.”
Nate nodded again. “Deal.”
Sasha paused, then slowly extended her hand across the table. “Then we have a deal, Mr. Blackwood.”
Nate shook it, the contact brief, formal. Their eyes met for a split second, two opponents entering a contract neither of them fully trusted.
As they pulled their hands away, Sasha smirked. “I still can’t stand you.”
Nate smiled faintly. “Perfect. Let’s keep it that way.”
- Writer
