a job interview I need to get to, and I can’t afford to be late. I think we’re done here, right? It was nice meeting you, Mr. Hawthorne.”
Thinking our conversation was done, she extended her hand over my desk, and I stared at it for a second. Before she could decide to walk away, I let out a breath, rose from my seat, and looked into her eyes as I took her hand.
This was it. This was the part where I should’ve said It was nice meeting you and gone on with my day. I didn’t.
In a calm and collected voice, I said what I’d been waiting to say. “You’re not being rude, Miss Coleson, but before you go, I’d like you to marry me.” Breaking our connection, I pushed my hands into my pockets, watching for her reaction.
After a short moment of hesitation, she replied, “Sure, how about we do that after my job interview, but before dinner. Because, you know, I already made plans with Tom Hardy and I don’t think I can postpone—”
“Are you mocking me?” I stood absolutely still.
Her narrowed eyes moved across my face, searching for an answer, I presumed. When she couldn’t find what she was looking for, the fight went out of her, and right in front of my eyes, her entire demeanor—which had hardened the second I’d started asking questions about her ex-fiancé—softened and she puffed out a breath.
“You weren’t making a bad joke?”
“Do I look like someone who jokes?”
Making a noncommittal sound, she shifted in place. “At first glance…I can’t say that you do, but I don’t know you enough to be sure.”
“I’ll save you the trouble—I don’t make jokes.”
She gave me a baffled look like I had said something astonishing. “O-kay. I think I’m still going to leave now.”
Just like that, she surprised me and turned away to leave. Before she could open the door, I spoke up.
“You’re not interested in hearing more about my offer then?”
Her hand was already on the glass knob when she stopped. With stiff shoulders, she let go of the door and turned to face me.
After opening and closing her mouth, she looked straight into my eyes from across the room. “Your offer? Just so we’re on the same page and I can make sure I didn’t hear you wrong, could you repeat said offer?”
“I’m offering to marry you.”
Hiking her bag higher on her shoulder, she cleared her throat. “Mr. Hawthorne, I think…I think I’m flattered that you’d—”
“Miss Coleson,” I cut her off bluntly before she could finish her sentence. “I assure you, my marriage offer is strictly a business deal. I’m sure you’re not thinking I’m expressing an interest in you. I was under the impression that you could use my help—was I wrong?”
“Your help? I don’t even know you, and I definitely don’t remember asking for any—”
“If you accept my offer, you’ll have enough time to get to know me.”
“If I accept your offer…which is a business deal disguised as a marriage. I don’t think I’m following you here.”
“Maybe if you explained what you’re having trouble understanding, I could help you.”
“How about everything? From where I’m standing, that sounds like a good place to start.”
“Right, of course. If you’ll take your seat, I’d be thrilled to go into more details. For example, I can make sure your life savings, which you already spent on a coffee shop that’s not happening, won’t go to waste.” I was guessing she could see from my expression that I wasn’t thrilled about any part of our conversation.
“How do you know that was my life s—”
“Like I said before, I do my—”
“Due diligence, right. I heard you the first time.” She looked out, her eyes scanning the busy hallway outside my office. It took her a few seconds to make a choice between walking out and staying. Then, reluctantly, she moved back toward my desk and me, and equally as reluctantly sat down on the edge of the seat again. Her untrusting eyes had all my attention.
“Good.” When I was sure she wasn’t going to jump up and run away, I took my seat as well. “Now that you’re staying, I’d like you to consider my offer.”
Briefly closing her eyes, she took a deep breath and let it all out. “See, that’s not really explaining anything to me. You keep asking the same thing, and I keep experiencing the same urge to get up and leave.”
“I’d like us to get married for a number of reasons, but the