The Marriage Deals

Episode3

The Business Proposal

Fuck me sideways, waiting in my private conference room like I'm about to close the biggest deal of my life. In a way, I guess I am. Marriage. Jesus H. Christ on a unicycle, how did I get here?

I glanced around the room, making sure everything was perfect. Plush wine carpeting that probably costs more than most people's cars? Check. The rich cherry wood table that screams, 'I've got more money than sense'? Check. Buttery leather chairs that make you feel like you're sitting on a cloud? Check. I even threw in a bouquet of flowers for good measure. Gotta keep it classy, right?

But let's be real, all this fancy s**t isn't for me. It's for her. Alexa. The girl who's about to become my wife in the most f****d up business arrangement since, well, ever.

I try to push away the memories of her as a kid—all gangly limbs and wild curls, following me and Kattie around like a lost puppy. Nope, can't think about that now. This is business, pure and simple. No feelings, no attachment, just a mutually beneficial agreement between two consenting adults.

But then Kattie's voice creeps into my head, reminding me of all the ways Alexa's changed. Reckless, she said. Impulsive. A real firecracker. Fanfuckingtastic. Just what I need in a fake wife.

Before I can spiral further into this clusterfuck of thoughts, the door opens. And holy s**t on a shingle, is that really Alexa?

She walks in like she owns the place, and I swear my brain short-circuits for a second. Those eyes—deep blue like the ocean at midnight. Hair? A riot of inky black corkscrew curls that makes me want to run my fingers through them. And don't even get me started on that dress. Red. Fiery f*****g red that hugs every curve and makes my mouth go dry.

Fuck. This is not going according to plan.

I stand up, trying to remember how to form words like a normal human being. "Alexa," I manage to croak out. Real smooth, Nick. "Thank you for coming."

She raises an eyebrow, a smirk playing on her lips. ""Well, well, well. If it wasn't Nicholas Marcello, all grown up and important.""

I clear my throat, desperately trying to regain some semblance of control. ""Please, have a seat. Can I offer you something to drink?""

"Cut the crap, Nick," she says, plopping down on one of the leather chairs. ""We both know why I'm here. So let's skip the pleasantries and get down to business.""

Jesus, when did she get so... bold? I sat down across from her, trying to ignore the way my body was reacting to her presence. This is business, remember? Keep it together, man.

"Right," I said, pulling out the contract. ""So, as you know, I'm in need of a wife. And you need... financial assistance, I believe?""

Alexa's eyes narrowed. ""Wow, way to make a girl feel special, Nick. Is that how you sweet-talk all the ladies?""

I can feel my face heating up. Damn it."" ""Look, I'm just trying to keep this professional. We both have something the other needs. It's a simple transaction.""

She leans forward, and I swear I can smell her perfume. Something spicy and intoxicating. ""Oh, honey. There's nothing simple about this. You want me to pretend to be your loving wife? Fine. But let's get one thing straight—I'm not some Step-ford wife you can mold into your perfect little trophy.""

I couldn't help but smirk. "Trust me, I'm well aware of that. Kattie filled me in on your... rebellious streak.""

"Rebellious streak?" Alexa laughs, and it's a sound that does things to me, I'd rather not admit. ""Oh, Nick. You have no idea.""

We fell into a moment of silence, and I can feel the tension crackling between us. It's like we're kids again, always pushing each other's buttons. But now there's something more. Something that makes my skin feel too tight and my heart races like I've just run a marathon.

I cleared my throat again". "Right. Well, let's go over the terms, shall we?"" I slid the contract over to her. ""It's pretty straightforward. We get married, you play the part of the devoted wife in public, and in return, you get financial security.""

Alexa picks up the contract, her eyes scanning the pages. ""And what about in private? What are your... expectations?""

I shift uncomfortably in my seat. "There won't be any... physical aspects to our arrangement. This is strictly business."

She looks up at me, those blue eyes piercing right through me." ""No s*x? No intimacy at all? Sounds like a real fairytale romance, Nick."

"That's the point," I say, trying to keep my voice steady. "This isn't about romance or love. It's a mutually beneficial arrangement. Nothing more."

Alexa puts down the contract, leaning back in her chair. "And what makes you so sure love can't exist in a marriage? Not everyone ends up bitter and resentful, you know."

I can't help but scoff. "Please. Love is just a fairy tale we tell ourselves to make the monotony of life bearable. It always fades, always turns sour. This way, we avoid all that messiness."

"Wow," Alexa says, shaking her head. "Who hurt you, Nick? Because that's some grade A bullshit right there."

"It's not bullshit; it's reality," I snap. "I've seen it happen time and time again. People fall in 'love,'" I make air quotes with my fingers, "get married, and then spend the rest of their lives resenting each other. At least this way, we know exactly what we're getting into."

Alexa leans forward, her eyes blazing. "Or maybe, just maybe, you're too scared to open yourself up to the possibility of real happiness. Maybe you're so terrified of getting hurt that you'd rather live in this cold, emotionless bubble you've created for yourself."

Her words hit me like a punch to the gut. For a moment, I was speechless. Then I recover, plastering on my best 'I don't give a f**k' smirk. ""And maybe you're just naive. But hey, if you want to believe in fairy tales, be my guest. As long as you understand that this,"" I gesture between us, "is not that."

She sits back, a challenge in her eyes. "Fine. Let's talk terms then. I want $350,000 upfront. No questions asked about what it's for.""

I blinked, taken aback by her directness. ""Excuse me? That's a lot of money to hand over with no explanation.""

"Take it or leave it, Nick," she says, her voice steel."" "And while we're at it, let's get a few things straight. I have my own apartment. I make my own decisions about my appearance and my life. I'm not some doll you can dress up and parade around.""

I can feel my temper rising. ""Now wait just a damn minute. You can't just""

"I can, and I will," she cuts me off. ""You want a wife? These are my terms. Take them or leave them.""

We glared at each other across the table, neither of us willing to back down. And suddenly, I'm hit with a memory. Alexa at thirteen, gangly and awkward, her braces gleaming in the sun as she yelled at me for some stupid prank I'd pulled. Even then, she never backed down.

I find myself smiling despite my irritation. "You haven't changed a bit, you know that?"

Her expression softens slightly. ""Oh, I've changed plenty, Nick. You just haven't been around to see it.""

And just like that, the tension shifts. It's still there, crackling between us, but it's different now. Charged with something I can't quite name.

"Okay," I say finally. ""Your terms. But I have some of my own. We need to convince people this is real. That means public appearances, family events, the whole nine yards.""

Alexa nods slowly." "Fair enough. But speaking of family... how exactly are we going to explain this to me? Because, let me tell you, they're not going to buy the 'whirlwind romance' bullshit."

I ran a hand through my hair, suddenly remembering just how close-knit the Morgan clan is.

"f**k. I didn't think about that.""

"Clearly," Alexa says dryly." "Look, if we're going to do this, we need to get our stories straight. And maybe... maybe we should spend some time together before the wedding. You know, so we don't look like total strangers when we say 'I do.'"

The thought of spending more time with Alexa sends a jolt through me. Part excitement, part terror. ""Yeah, okay. That... that makes sense."

She stands up, smoothing down her dress. "Great. We'll start tomorrow. Dinner at my place. 7 PM sharp. Don't be late.""

And before I can respond, she's walking out the door, leaving behind nothing but the lingering scent of her perfume and a lot of confusion.

I slump back in my chair, my head spinning. What the f**k have I gotten myself into?

One thing's for sure: this is not going to be the simple, emotionless arrangement I had planned. Not by a long shot.

As I gather the contract, my phone buzzes. It's text from Alexa.

""By the way, I hope you like cats. Because Mr. Darcy can't wait to meet his new daddy. "

I stared at the phone, a mix of horror and amusement washing over me. Cats. Of course.

This is going to be one hell of a ride.