“That the proposal is financially irrational for me but potentially useful for you.”
“Romantic.”
“It is not romantic.”
“Right. Fake romantic.”
She opened a notebook.
“I have conditions.”
“That sounds like a yes.”
“It is conditional interest.” Amy turned the notebook toward me. At the top she had written:
TEMPORARY COMPETITION PARTNERSHIP: RISK AND BOUNDARY FRAMEWORK
I pressed my lips together.
“You’re smiling.”
“I’m moved.”
“Do not be.” She tapped each item as she spoke. “The arrangement ends after the final challenge. Miguel assumes full coaching authority before we apply. Medical or training conflict means withdrawal. Prize money is divided equally. Tessa and Rose may know; Blake cannot unless disclosure becomes necessary.”
“Romantic.”
“Public affection requires advance agreement. Hand-holding and posed contact are permitted. Kissing requires an immediate threat to the deception.”
“Emergency kissing.”
“A narrow exception. Neither person interferes in the other’s private romantic life. No bed-sharing. Professional questionsreceive direct answers; privacy cannot create a false professional impression.”
The last condition tightened my body. “Before we submit, I will answer the marathon question.”
“When?”
“Thursday.”
Amy nodded and turned the page. “Behavioral rules.”
“Those were not rules?”
“Those were terms.”
“Of course.”
She wrote six lines: the relationship ends with the competition; training comes first; no unnecessary kissing; no jealousy; no bed-sharing; no genuine romantic feelings.
I tapped the final line. “Should we initial it in blood?”
“No.”
“Notary?”
“Tessa and Rose will witness.”
“They will turn it into a ceremony.”
