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“Shouldn’t a convenience marriage be... convenient...?” She puts into words what I had already heard her eyes tell me.
“And it is...”
“How is this convenient for me?” she challenges, sassy, and I raise my eyebrows.
“Can I be honest?”
“Weren’t you being before?”
I smile. I like her, I decide. This will work.
“I was. But I’m a lawyer, half words are not enough for me unless it’s convenient.” Again, I notice that the mention of profession causes her expression to change.Does she have anything against lawyers?I shake my head, refocusing on what’s important now.
“Then I’ll cut straight to the point. I don’t think you clean my toilets for fun, Antonella…” I begin, and her jaw drops at my words.I give her a few seconds before continuing, “And a marriage to me would be convenient for you, because I would make sure it was never necessary again, even after our contract was over. You’d have all the money you need, you could live off shopping, travel, whatever you wanted.As long as you kept up the appearances...”
“Living off shopping?” she asks, blinking her eyes several times, and I hurry to explain.
“Don’t get me wrong, I really don’t care how you choose to occupy your time.In fact, that’s exactly what I need, a wife whose only job will be to look beautiful.This is exactly the kind of thing the damn board would love, or almost...”
The woman shakes her head, nodding slowly.She runs her tongue over her lower lip and then sucks it again.I squint, refusing to deal with vision.Not again.When I open them, she stares at me with an unreadable face.
“A woman who just needs to look beautiful...” she whispers to herself, but close as we are, it’s impossible not to hear.
She looks almost... bothered, but... no... That wouldn’t make sense... What else could she possibly want? I mean, from cleaning lady to socialite? It can’t get any better than that...
“What is this board you talk so much about?”
“The partners in my family’s law firm ...”
“And why do they care who you marry?”
“They don`t care.To them, it only matters that I look respectable, and a wife would do that...”
“You look respectable now? Because you’re single?” she asks and I laugh, because, in my opinion, that’s exactly their problem with me. “And why did you say that a woman who is all appearances is almost all they want, what is missing in the picture of the perfect wife of these people’s imagination? What are their expectations, Marcos?” Her tone is different, it’s not sassy, it sounds…bitter. But that doesn’t stop me from being honest.
“Probably a well-born, well-educated, educated, independent woman.Someone whose only job is not just to be a trophy wife, but they’re going to have to deal with my choice...”
“And you think I’d be perfect to be reduced to that?”
“Reduced?” A sound of derision leaves her throat before she remakes her sentence.
“You know... Being a trophy wife…” She gestures with her hand, reminding me of one of those social media videos where people wave and words appear written on the screen.
“Well, you’re pretty and you’ll have plenty of time left...”
She laughs, but it’s a dry laugh.
“Well, definitely, you know how to be honest...”
“I thought you’d prefer it that way...”
“I do...” she says the words and her thoughts scream the reason for it. It’s my turn to smile.
“You think I’m a jerk,” I say, because there’s no doubt about it in her eyes.
“Can you blame me?”
“Oh, no, not at all. I’m a jerk, actually I’m more than that, I’m a great son of a bitch! But then again, I thought you preferred my honesty, you asked me why this marriage would be convenient, I’m just giving you my reasons.And if we’re going to do that, it better be clear who I am from the start.”
