The proposal/acceptance
1371 Words
Betty.
I stood frozen, my breath caught in my chest, as I stared at Alexander Harrison as if he’d grown a second head.
Did he just say what I thought he said?
My mind struggled to process his words. Surely, he was joking, or maybe he’d had a little too much wine at lunch.
But no—his expression was calm, his tone as measured as ever, so he definitely knew what he was saying!
"Are you going to say something?" His deep, smooth voice cut through my disbelief, dragging me back into reality.
"I… I don’t know," I stammered, shaking my head slightly as if trying to wake myself from a dream.
It didn’t make any sense. Alexander Harrison—billionaire CEO, a name on every financial magazine cover, and a man who could snap his fingers and have the world at his feet—was asking me to spend Christmas with him.
Me. Betty Thompson was an ordinary company cleaner, who was basic and would to blend into the background.
"What don’t you know?" he pressed, his sharp gaze piercing through my spiraling thoughts.
"The fact that you’re asking me to spend the holiday with you," I said, trying to sound composed, though my voice wavered slightly. "Why me?"
He leaned back in his chair, his expression softening.
"I just caught my girlfriend cheating on me," he said, his tone calm but laced with betrayal, an emotion I was used to. "I had planned a two-week holiday vacation with her. Since she’s no longer in the picture, I thought of you."
His words hit me like a brick. The idea of someone like Alexander Harrison being cheated on was almost as absurd as this entire conversation. But there it was, and here I was thinking that I was cheated because of how I looked.
The truth was cheaters would always look for reasons to cheat.
"For your inconvenience," he continued, in a businesslike manner, "I’m willing to pay you a compensation fee of one hundred thousand dollars. Aside the fact that you would have such an amazing time that you wouldn’t want the vacation to end,"
I stared at him, my mouth slightly open. "You’re willing to pay me?" I asked, unable to believe what I was hearing.
"Yes," he said matter-of-factly. "All I need is for you to pretend to be my girlfriend while we’re there. Simple enough, right?"
“Girlfriend? I chuckled lightly. I don’t even know if I have what it takes to date a CEO,” I said.
“Why don’t you let me be the judge of that,” he said calmly.
"Doesn’t your family know your girlfriend?" I asked, still trying to piece this together.
"You mean my ex," he said with a slight smirk. "No, they haven’t met her. And now that she’s an ex, it doesn’t matter. You’ll be the ‘present,’ so to speak."
A laugh bubbled out of me despite the absurdity of it all. The pun was so unexpected that it momentarily broke the tension between us for a moment.
I noticed he was looking at me all the while I laughed, and seeing the seriousness on his face made me realize that he wasn’t kidding.
“Oh, you are serious, aren’t you?” I asked.
“Yes, I am Betty,” he replied casually.
"Can I think about it?" I asked, regaining my composure.
"Of course," he said with a slight nod. "Take the night to decide. Let me know by tomorrow morning."
----
Back at my apartment, I paced the small living room, Mr. Harrison proposal replaying in my mind like a broken record. A hundred thousand dollars, just like that.
Two weeks in luxury.
Christmas with a family that clearly operated on an entirely different level of existence than me.
I’d spent the last three Christmases alone. Ever since Mark, the man I thought I’d marry—cheated on me, the past Christmas holidays had been a grim reminder of heartbreak.
This was a chance to do something different, something exciting. But still, doubts lingered.
What if I didn’t fit in? What if Harrison’s family saw through the charade? I wasn’t glamorous, wealthy, or sophisticated. What if I embarrassed him?
I was still lost in thought when my phone suddenly rang, startling me. I glanced at the screen and froze. Mark.
I hadn’t heard from Mark since the day I found him in bed with his neighbor. Although there were a few occasions he tried contacting me, I had completely ignored his calls.
Seeing his name on my phone after all this time sent a strange mix of emotions surging through me. Against my better judgment, I answered.
"Hello?" I said, my voice cautious.
"Hey, Betty," he said, his voice far too casual for my liking.
"What do you want, Mark?" I asked, not bothering to hide my annoyance.
"I was just thinking about you," he said, his tone shifting to something that sounded like regret. "How have you been?"
"Fine," I said flatly, hoping to end the call quickly.
There was a pause.
"I was wondering if we could meet up sometime this Christmas. I’ve been thinking… maybe we could give things another shot," he said, with an air of arrogance that he had always had with him.
So cliché, when the ex thinks Christmas is a ‘X’ mass reunion, stupid dumb motherfucker.
I was so pissed that I almost dropped the phone in his dumb ass.
"Why now?" I asked, unable to hide the rage brewing inside me.
"I made a mistake, Betty," he said, his tone dripping with fake sincerity. "I know I hurt you, but I want to make it right. Besides, I know you miss me too, because I haven’t seen you with anyone since we broke up. Let’s face it, you’re not exactly the kind of girl most guys go for,…"
My stomach churned as his words sank in. "What’s that supposed to mean?" I asked, my voice sharp.
"I mean, you’re not… you know, the supermodel body type, you aren't even that beautiful" he said dismissively. "But I don’t care about that. I can accept you for who you are. Be my girl again," he said
I felt my cheeks flush with anger and humiliation.
"You’re unbelievable," I snapped. "I don’t need your pity or your acceptance. And for your information, I am seeing someone."
I hung up before he could respond, my hands trembling with rage.
That night, as I lay in bed, my decision became clear. I would accept Mr. Harrison’s proposal. Not just for the money, though that was undeniably tempting, but because it was a chance to move forward. To leave the past and people like Mark behind. And to be reminded of what it takes to be treated right.
---
The next morning, I walked into Alexander’s office, my heart racing with a mixture of nerves and determination. He looked up from his desk, his expression as unreadable as ever.
"I’ll do it, I will come with you," I said, my voice firm.
A small smile tugged at the corner of his lips. "Good choice," he said simply.
"Just one thing," I added, meeting his gaze. "I’m not going to pretend to be someone I’m not. I am not going to lie to be someone important, If your family doesn’t like me for who I am, that’s their problem, not mine."
"Fair enough," he said with a nod. "We leave tomorrow. Pack for two weeks." he said.
---
The next day, and as I settled into the plush leather seat of Alexander’s private jet, I couldn’t help but feel like I’d stepped into a movie.
Everything around me screamed opulence, from the crystal glasses to the silk throw blankets.
"Are you okay?" Alexander asked, his voice pulling me from my thoughts.
"Yeah," I said, managing a small smile. "Just… not used to this."
He chuckled. "You’ll get used to it," he said in assurance.
I wasn’t so sure. But for the first time in years, I felt a glimmer of excitement about Christmas.
What I didn’t realize was that this holiday would change my life in ways I couldn’t begin to imagine.
- Writer
