When I woke up this morning, I could have sworn it was all a dream. And I did think it was just that, only an extra vivid dream until I saw the papers sitting on my coffee table. I made it through work without seeing Maxwell, but I did miss a call from him after lunch. I’m glad Bella wasn’t with me, or I would have had to answer the phone.

It’s been an interesting twenty-four hours, but I think I’m finally over my initial shock at Maxwell’s proposal. I sit on my bed with a notebook open. I make two columns and begin to jot down the pros and cons.

Pro, I will have paid off all my debt. Con, I am temporarily married to someone. For Maxwell, it will seem like just another business deal. But everyone will look at me differently. I don’t know if I’m ready to answer any questions about it. Are we supposed to pretend we’re in love? Or does everyone know the circumstances of our marriage? I don’t understand the nuances of what goes into a fake relationship, and I’m not sure if I’m adult enough to handle one. It feels like an affair, something cheap and tawdry. I don’t know how to shake that feeling.

That said—nothing about the night I shared with Maxwell was cheap or tawdry. He made me feel so incredible and desirable. I felt like I discovered part of myself that night. I never allowed myself to imagine how wonderful it would be to sleep with a man. Much of my experience—or lack thereof was centered around sexual shame and repression because of Dave. When I eventually found him in bed with another woman, I decided I didn’t need anything or anyone. I didn’t realize I was giving up the opportunity to see how beautiful sex could be.

Shivering at the memory of Maxwell’s head between my legs, I feel a surge of desire. Oh, my God. I squeeze my eyes shut, but the image only becomes more vivid. His mouth descending on me is a visual that could keep me distracted for hours. And it has—both in the conference room and at many points during the day.

I want to call him to come over again so badly, but he’s complicated everything with this proposal. If I say “no,” does that mean we can’t sleep together anymore?

Thinking about the offer in depth, I don’t know why I wouldn’t take it, though. It seems foolish to pass up. Within a year, I’ll have so many more opportunities available to me, simply because I will be able to overcome the income barrier.

I have to take the deal; it’s the only way out. Recalling the file he has on me, I frown. I don’t know how he was able to get those detailed numbers, but he did make some valid points. Okay, everything he said makes sense.

The part about us having sex regularly makes my stomach lurch. Just the memory of us that night makes me grow warm, and I bury my face in my hands. That alone is a huge pro. I click under that column and add it in all caps.

My phone rings and I pick up. It’s Riley. I disguise my disappointment when I answer her call.

“Hey! I was just thinking about you,” I tell her. “Don’t you have a date tonight?”

“I do, yes. But I wanted to talk since I barely saw you today. They really have you working a lot! You’re doing work for Maxwell too now, right? Look at you moving on up!” Riley lets out a whoop, and I pull the phone away from my ear.

“No, well, yes, but it’s not like that,” I say, wondering if now is the best time to come clean.

“It’s like what, then?” Riley’s not one to miss a change in tone. I can almost see her ears perking up on the other line. Part of me wants to shut down her suspicions, even though she has every right to suspect something.

“Um, well, it’s just me watching Bella. You know.” Now isn’t the best time. I don’t even know how I feel about the whole thing.

“Hmm, yeah. You’re amazing for doing that. I hope you’re getting properly compensated for it.”

I look at my mattress and remember Maxwell compensating in the most incredible ways, and I close my eyes. “Yeah, um, he is.”

“Are you okay?” Riley asks sharply. “You sound a little far away.”

“No, I’m great. Just a little tired. I have some work I need to get done tonight. I didn’t take home some of my regular work today because I’m working on a small project for Samuel. If all goes well, he says he has a better opportunity to offer me.”

“Oh Laura, that’s wonderful!” Riley sounds pleased. “I’m so happy everything is coming together for you. I was worried about you closing yourself off for so long. This will hopefully lead to more work opportunities and personal ones as well.”

“Right.” I can’t think of anything else to add so I change the topic. “Where are you going for your date? And what are you wearing?”

“Oh, that’s right. You haven’t been on a date in so long—I need to start prepping you for this kind of stuff. Well, I’m wearing a deep blue sleeveless dress with a low v-cut neckline—you know what, I’ll just send you a picture with my killer heels.”

“What about your date? Who is he?” I ask.

“It’s a guy from one of the floors below me. We’ve been flirting for at least three months, and he finally took some initiative. That’s why I picked this killer dress. It’ll knock him senseless, and he’ll wonder why he didn’t make his move sooner.”

I smile at her trademark overconfidence. “He must have thought you were already taken,” I say. “Why else would he have waited so long?”

“Humph. Well, whatever the case, I’ve got him on the hook now. We’ll see what he’s packing tonight.”

“Are you going to sleep with him?” I squeak. The idea of sleeping with a random person puts me on edge. After sleeping with Maxwell, I can’t imagine another person in my bed. Probably because I haven’t had another person there, but Riley’s casual approach still alarms me.

“Well, how else am I supposed to find out what he’s packing, Laura?” Riley laughs. “As soon as I get laid, I’ll work on getting you laid. No reason for any attachments. We’ll have you do the deed so you can get over your hang-up about it.”

After I end the call with her, I get ready for bed. When I lie down to sleep, Riley’s words echo in my mind. She made sex sound casual and impersonal, though, for me, it was anything but.

I leap up to grab the contract papers and settle back in bed with them. With my lamp on, I read over the words again carefully.

Everything in the agreement is carefully worded and...sterile. For a well thought out document, though, it isn’t clear on when the agreement takes place. I know he wants it taken care of before he goes overseas, so it has to be soon. I get to the last page and see Maxwell’s signature already scrawled on the bottom. There’s a gap, and my name is listed, with a blank line waiting above it.

Pushing away from the paper, I pace the room. Pulling my hair out of the loose bun, I rub my temples while I think. Pros and cons aside, can I actually do this? Why does it seem like it’s not my life playing out in front of me? I feel like I’m acting in a film about someone else’s life.

This is how people used to get married, though. Arranged marriages, entering into a marriage that served some practical purpose. It’s not so bizarre. Who am I kidding though? No one does arranged marriages anymore, at least not in western culture. It’s such a gamble. But, at least it’s not a complete gamble like an arranged marriage.

What if I say “no” to all this? Do we just keep seeing each other in the office and forget that we slept together? The thought of not sleeping with him again makes my heart lurch. While I’m sure Riley would be on the hunt to find me another partner before I even ask, I can’t imagine another partner so soon.

My heart beats a little faster when I think about sleeping with him. I feel a surge rush through me before I grab the pen and hover it just above the line. It’s not even permanent. It has a termination date. Plus, I reason, while resting my pen on the line, my duties will mostly remain the same. When I finish the scrawl of my last name, I stare at the ink drying.

I hold my breath as if something will immediately take place, some magical transformation. When all I can hear is the clock ticking in the living room, I slowly release it.

Nothing has happened, not yet. But it will. Soon, I will become Mrs. Brideau. I shiver at the idea and put everything on my nightstand before settling deep under my covers. If it’s going to happen as soon as I think it might, I’m going to need to take some time off beforehand to prepare. As I fall asleep, I feel as if a weight has been lifted from me—even though I have no idea what I’m getting myself into.