Chapter Eleven

Ryan

I know that waiting until the play is officially over before I ask Sophia if she wants to fake marry me is probably the right thing to do on the balance of things, but I just can’t wait any longer. I don’t feel right moving into her house and sleeping on her sofa with this hanging over me either, as appealing as that situation is, because it’s just going to make me look like a creep.

The thing is, I really, really like this girl, and without the chance of a long term relationship between us, I don’t feel like I should involve myself with her romantically at all, even if the opportunity did somehow present itself, because I don’t want to break either of our hearts. You see how optimistic I am that she feels the same way as me?!

That incredible kiss after the performance last night has made me realize that the feelings I have for her are real and they’re not going to go away. Not only that, if I don’t do something about it sooner rather than later, I run the risk of losing her to something else or someone else. The money at this point is incidental. Yeah it’s going to get me out of a tight situation and into a proper bed, but I’d choose Sophia over a million dollars any day of the week.

She’s going to need some time to think about this offer, and as long as I present it to her in the right way, it’s not going to come across as perverted or weird. Really, it’s a pretty sensible option for us both, regardless of the fact that just looking at her gives me the kind of raging boner I could use to break through a steel door. The best thing about all of this is that we can act to make it look real, especially if it turns out that the feelings I’ve got for Sophia aren’t at all reciprocated.

I’ve been making a much bigger thing out of this than I need to, and the longer I leave it, the harder it’s going to be to ask her, which is why I’ve got to act now.

It’s also a bit like performing, if I don’t do it when I know I can, I know I’ll never do it at all. And if I never do it at all, I’m never going to get Sophia, either as a fake wife or a real one.

That’s what we’re doing here after Marshall has given us his one hour mid-morning motivational speech, because where better than Chipotle for a broke actor to propose a fake wedding to his on-stage wife?

“I felt really ill again this morning”, Sophia says, “It must have been that cheap alcohol Marshall likes to buy. Are you okay? You kind of look like you’ve got something on your mind because it’s pushing your neck down even further than usual.”

You know what I just said about performing? Sometimes actors are the worst at that if they haven’t prepared the material properly.

“We can just stick to the script, if you like”, Sophia says. “I don’t mind.”

“It’s not that”, I say.

She smiles. “Don’t tell me you’ve found another sofa to sleep on.”

I shake my head.

“Well? Come on, spill the beans. I know you want to either ask me something or tell me something because you’ve never asked me out to lunch before, so it must be important.”

“It is important”, I say, trying not to appear as nervous as I feel.

“Go on then”, Sophia implores, when it’s clear I’m struggling over how to begin.

Am I really going to do this? Why don’t I just take the offer of the sofa, and build up to this gradually? I can ask her in two weeks time when the play is over and we’re best friends for life, and we can’t spend a minute out of each other’s company, only it’s hard enough now that by then it’s going to be impossible. There’s nothing else for it.

“Alright, I’m just going to come out and say it”, I say.

“O—kay.”

An uncomfortable moment passes between us, during which time I do nothing but stare at her and smile like a lunatic, the words going round and round in my head but not getting anywhere close to being spoken. It’s so unnatural that Sophia starts getting self conscious. “What?!” she says eventually, plucking at her hair, her cheeks reddening.

“Alright”, I say again, “I’m just going to say it”, making a big deal out of it, like I promised myself I wouldn’t.

“Come on, Ryan, this tension is killing me”, Sophia says. “Please don’t tell me you’ve got a job in Hollywood and you fly out there tomorrow.”

I shake my head. If only it were that simple.

“It’s not that.”

“Then?”

I take a deep breath. “Will you marry me?” I say quickly, before the words escape me. Sophia looks at me suspiciously for a moment and then falls about laughing.

“I’m serious”, I say, laughing with her.

“Ryan?” Sophia asks, in that beautiful accent of hers. Every time she says my name I can feel a sting of pleasure whip around my belly. “Is this something that Marshall has asked you to do?”

I shake my head. “Nope.”

I can tell she doesn’t believe me. “Is that you, William? Of course I’ll marry you. Do you want me to give you another baby as well? Another four? Is this what Marshall meant this morning by living and breathing the characters?”

I begin again, making sure I maintain eye contact.

“It’s nothing to do with the play, and I’m being deadly serious about this. Will you marry me?” I say.

Sophia laughs again but stops this time when she sees i’m not joining in. “What for?” she says eventually, her mouth curled into a smile.

I take a deep breath. “My great aunt Caroline died a couple of weeks ago”, I begin. “She left me a million dollars in her will.”

Sophia doesn’t quite know how to respond, so I continue. “Which is great, obviously, but it’s not as simple as picking up a suitcase full of money. Caroline was a very traditional woman, apparently, and there are certain requirements.”

Sophia puts her hands out. “Woah woah woah, hold on. What?!” she says.

I count the words off on my fingers. “Dead aunt, million dollars, certain requirements. Got it?”

Sophia nods. “This is good”, she says, a little more animated now. “When’s the audition?”

“It’s not for a play”, I say.

“A film?” she guesses.

“Sophia, I’m being serious. This was my dad’s aunt, I went to the funeral a few weeks ago. She was a famous actress with a ton of money, all of which she’s left to me.”

Again Sophia is looking at me suspiciously. Obviously actors can’t say extraordinary things and be believed.

“You’re shitting me?” she says after another wave of silence.

“I promise you I am not shitting you.”

“A million dollars.”

“Minus taxes.”

Sophia shifts uncomfortably in her seat. “You’re definitely not shitting me?”

“I’m one hundred percent telling you the truth”, I say, handing over the will so she can see it for herself. “Read it.”

Sophia scans the document, looks briefly up to me with an expression that suggests she finally gets it, and then back down again to the letter.

“This is insane”, she says when she’s finally read it to the end. “You’re a millionaire.”

“I won’t get a penny unless I’m married”, I say, “those are the conditions. Until then, I’m just a bum like always.”

Sophia hands the letter back to me.

“You look shocked”, I say.

“I think that’s an accurate description of how I’m feeling right now, yes”, she says, reaching for her water.

“I’ve been thinking about asking you for a while”, I say. “I thought it might make sense for us both.”

“Me?” she says, almost choking on her water. “Why me?”

I shrug. “Come on, don’t sound so surprised, it’s not like we’re not doing it already after all”, I say, “Not only that, though. It would mean that you’d be able to apply for a permanent visa to stay here, and we’d share the money, of course.”

Sophia looks at me, a nervous smile on her face.

“Yeah but Ryan, come on, you can’t be serious about this, can you?” she says. “Getting married?”

I adjust my seat and clear my throat. “I know it sounds crazy”, I say, “but hear me out. I didn’t say anything for ages because I needed time to think about it. I can’t think of anyone else more appropriate than you, which is why I’m asking you. If it’s something you don’t want to do, I’ll totally understand. It’s not every day that your colleague asks you to marry him after all.”

“I don’t know what to say”, Sophia says. “Obviously, I don’t know what to say. I thought this was for some new audition and you’re actually asking me to marry you for real, I mean one hundred percent for real. Do you know how crazy that sounds?”

“It’s a crazy suggestion, I know”, I say. “Believe me, I think the same thing. Getting married is absolutely nuts, even though we do it every day on stage, we hardly know each other.”

Sophia laughs. “On stage and in real life are two completely different things, Ryan”, she says, her mouth open in astonishment. “I don’t even know how this would work.”

“We get a hundred thousand pounds as soon as we tie the knot, but it has to be clear that we’re actually a couple”, I say plainly.

“That’s not really what I meant”, Sophia says. “I meant more like how would it would work between us being married?”

“I guess we’d have to come to some kind of arrangement”, I say, “but we’d talk about that if we were going to do this.”

“An arrangement?” Sophia asks, jabbing her water with her straw. “A decent platonic proposal?”

“I hadn’t really got that far to be honest”, I confess. “I suppose we’d just carry on as friends like we are now and do enough to make it look real.”

“And who decides whether it’s real or not?” Sophia asks.

“They have someone who assesses us. They ask around I guess, check out our situation. After that it’s a hundred thousand every year that we stay married, and the full amount if we have a family.”

Sophia can’t help but laugh. “And I thought you only wanted to take me out for lunch. This is crazy, Ryan! You couldn’t have even made this up.”

“I know, I know”, I say. “It would have been so much easier if she’d just given me the money and let me get on with it. Not only do i need to be married, if I don’t get married in six months I’ll get nothing.”

“That’s very thoughtful of her”, Sophia says.

“It’s a hundred thousand pounds if we get married and then divorced again straight afterward”, I say. “You could apply for a new visa in that time and get an extra three months at least, you know, if you couldn’t cope with me for longer.”

“You’ve looked into this”, Sophia says.

I nod. “I did a little bit of background checking, just in case.”

“So why did everyone else say no? What am I missing here, what’s the catch?”

“You are the only person I had in mind”, I say.

Sophia fakes surprise so well I almost don’t pick up on it. “It’s not everyday that someone brings you to chipotle and proposes, you know.”

“That’s because it’s purely for business”, I say, “If I were doing it for real, I’d spoil you and take you to Subway.”

Sophia laughs. “You know this is fucking crazy, right?”

I nod, well aware of just how fucked up this situation is. “Just think what you can do with fifty thousand dollars”, I remind her.

Sophia looks at me with wide eyes and a mischievous smile. “I’m thinking what I can do with five hundred thousand, but it’s still fucking crazy no matter how you look at it.”

“We’d have to move in together”, I say, casually enough to make it sound like something we would have to do out of obligation not pleasure. “To make it look real.”

Sophia cuts in. “Don’t you think it’s going to be a little bit suspicious if you and I suddenly go from work colleagues to husband and wife without anything in between? And then I apply for my visa and you apply for your inheritance?”

I shrug. “Actors fall in love with each other all the time”, I say, making a point of maintaining eye contact with her. “And we’re known to be a spontaneous group of people. I guess we’d just have to start a rumor and then convince everyone we’re actually a couple. It’ll be like William and Elouise on a grand scale.”

“Except we’d actually be getting married for real”, Sophia says.

“Yeah, I guess there is that.”

There’s a silence that falls between us while we both take a moment to think about what’s just been said.

“Can I think about it?” Sophia asks me after a while. “I mean, this day has just gone from zero to a thousand miles an hour before I’ve even had a chance to get a third of the way through my burrito. I think I’m actually in shock.”

I laugh. “I wasn’t expecting you to give me an answer straight away”, I say. “I just didn’t want to leave it any longer before asking you, that’s all. Take as long as you need. You know, let me know tomorrow or the day after.”

Sophia laughs with me. “Twenty times on stage and once for real”, she says.

“The honeymoon would be fun”, I point out. “A hundred grand would go a long way. That’s a lot of burritos.”

Sophia still can’t shake her look of disbelief. “What would your parents say?” she asks.

“They’d be over the moon”, I say. “They’ve already told me you’re both gorgeous and a way better actor than I am, so they’d either think I’ve got extremely lucky or I’ve paid you. Yours?”

“They’d probably have a heart attack, unless I told them you were a rich doctor, of course. They think actors spend all of their time drinking and sleeping on people's couches.”

“They’d get on well with my parents then”, I say. “That’s a positive start, I suppose.”

“What about Marshall?” Sophia asks, leaning forward conspiratorially. “What would he say if we told him we were getting married for real?”

“Are you kidding? Marshall would absolutely love it. Can you imagine? The play that made the stars a real life couple. The press would get all over that.”

“You’re such a romantic”, Sophia says, her eyes sparkling.

“How can you possibly resist me? Unless you’re already married of course, that would make things awkward.”

Sophia looks at me in disbelief, shaking her head slightly.

“What!” I ask, my hands up passively.

“You’re unbelievable”, she says.

“Thank you.”

“Of all the things I thought you were going to ask me today. You know, I’m not going to be able to think about anything else when we get married tonight.”

“Yeah, it has been kind of weird”, I confess.

“This is weird on all kinds of levels”, Sophia says. “Thank God we’re not playing ourselves in this play, I think my head might explode if we were.”

Sophia picks up her burrito, pauses momentarily and puts it back down on her plate, without taking a single bite.

“Think about it”, I say, just to take the edge off the tension. “That’s all I’m asking.”

“I’m already thinking about it”, Sophia responds. “I’m thinking about it so much I’ve lost my appetite.”

“We can discuss the details at a later date”, I say, “I just wanted to let you know about the option for us to get married, which now that I’ve said it sounds like the weirdest thing anyone has said to anyone else ever.”

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome”, I say, “Thank you for not overreacting.”

“I nearly choked on my water”, Sophia points out.

“That’s true.”

“And I still don’t know what to say. I feel like I’ve uncrossed and recrossed my legs so many times I’m going to stand up and find out I’ve tied them in a knot.”

I take a sip of my water, turn the burrito over with my fork and cut a small chunk off the end.

“Maybe it just hasn’t settled in yet”, I say. “It’s a lot to take in.”

“I’ve never been proposed to before”, Sophia says.

“It’s a good offer”, I say jokingly. “I’ve got absolutely no experience, but I’m fairly convinced I’ll make a good husband. If not a rich one.”

“Not snoring is a start”, Sophia says, pointing at me with her fork. “Maybe I should give you a trial period, though.”

“Or we can get married straight away, get that hundred grand and use the following year as a trial period to see if we work long term.”

“It’s a hell of a lot of money.”

I nod. “It’s more than that”, I say. “It’s a fortune.”

Sophia turns her glass thoughtfully, her eyes on the pattern the condensed water makes on the coaster.

“How long will the checks take?” she asks without looking up.

“I’m not sure how it works”, I confess. “I suppose someone will come around to the house to see that we’re actually living as a couple, and decide if our relationship is legitimate. If we’re married, I’m sure we don’t have to do much more than pretend we’re sleeping together and are planning to share our lives together. I bet something as simple as a few photos and  a shared bank account would do it, I doubt they want to see my missionary position.”

Sophia’s laugh is infectious. “Shame”, she says, “I was looking forward to seeing that.”

“Don’t joke”, I say, laughing along with her, “that’s the favored position of married American couples.”

“French, remember”, Sophia says, “and I still haven’t decided if I’m going to marry you yet. I might have to marry you for fake a few more times on stage before I marry you for real fake in the real world, if you see what I mean?”

“It’s confusing isn’t it?” I say.

“Right now? More than ever.”

We fall into silence while we pick at our food, neither one of us all that hungry now. I feel like a huge weight has been lifted from my shoulders just by getting all of this out in the open, but until Sophia gives me a definitive answer either way, I’m not going to be able to think about anything else. Having a proper relationship with this girl would be like a dream come true, and if I we have to pretend to get married to do it, just show me which piece of official paper I need to sign.