Page 19 of Surprise! I'm Engaged To My Boss
“Asshole? Yeah, you did.”
“Oh my God... That's not a very polite or sensible way to refer to one’s boss.”
“We weren't boss and employee then, only two people drinking and talking. And don't worry, despite the initial insult, we soon got along well.”
Her face turned completely red, giving me a hint that she was embarrassed by my last sentence.
Well, actually, that wasn't my intention. I actually used the 'we got along' associated with the fact that we were soon chatting in a relaxed manner, laughing together, and even dancing.
That last part made me feel awkward too.
I cleared my throat, getting back to the subject:
“Why would I blackmail you into becoming my bride?”
“Because I also remember why you bought me that ring. I was drunk and I said that only with a serious commitment would I... Ugh, that's beside the point. Iwas out of my right mind, now that stupid analogy won't work.”
“Do you think I want to... No! For the love of God, I'm not using the term "getting engaged" as an analogy to get you into bed. You can rest assured, because nothing will happen between us.”
She crossed her arms in front of her and her head lolled to the side.
“Then I don't understand what you're getting at.”
I pointed to the armchairs in front of my table, already knowing that this was a conversation we should have a little more calmly, so that there would be no more misunderstandings.
“Why don't you sit down?”
“I'm fine right here. Tell me what you want from me.”
“I really want you to become my bride, but...”
She interrupted me, not allowing me to finish:
“You're not going to say you fell in love with me over night, are you? For God's sake, no way, I know your reputationverywell.”
Everyone knew my reputation. This was exactly my biggest problem at the moment.
“That’s the reputation I’m trying to change. Listen, Collins… I want you topretendto be my fiancée. That’s it. It’ll be fake. All you’ll have to do is wear a ring, show up with me to a few events—just for three months. That’s all. We don’t need to be close; nothing has to happen between us.”
Again, she seemed to freeze, as if she was mentally going over every word I had said and trying to find some reason in them.
I didn't blame her, after all. It wasn't something you heard every day.
Before she could finish, however, I decided to give her a little nudge with the counterpart for that favor, “My offer is five hundred thousand dollars, for three months pretending to be my fiancée.”
She coughed, as if she had choked on the proposal. Had she thought it was too little? I could increase it if she wanted.
“You want to pay me half a million dollars to spend three months pretending we're engaged?”
“Yes.”
‘Without any obligation of intimacy?”
“None.”
“And in exchange for what?”
“I’ve already told you; I need to change my image.”
