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"You read theHarvard Law Review?" I exclaimed. I knew Becca was well-read, but I didn’t know her interests expanded to law.
Becca shrugged. “I had to read it for a class for my business degree, but it was so interesting I kept my subscription after I graduated,” she explained. “I’m more than a pretty face, remember?”
"I do know, and I stand corrected."
"Besides, it's important for a woman of my social standing to be aware of the business in Boston. These articles let me know who I need to know and why I need to know them. If you pay close enough attention, it’s basically Boston’s version of Page 6.”
Becca’s approach to business is subtle and cunning. I watched her this weekend. She worked the room like a criminal casing the joint for jewels. It was thrilling to watch as she moved effortlessly through the room. The socialites who surrounded her remained blissfully unaware of what she was plotting. God, I think I loved her.
I slowly moved my eyes up and down her body. A wife was good for things other than business. In Napa, Becca did more than satisfy my sexual needs. It occurred to me that Becca could be my partner in the truest sense of the word. We could take over the world together and have fun doing it. In theory, that was all I ever wanted. But part of me still wondered whether or not Becca actually liked me. She was an excellent actress, after all.
But whenever I asked her to do things outside of our planned excursions, like galas or dinner parties, she always had an excuse. She was always volunteering or helping Jasmine with something. In a way, it hurt. I wished she would tell me if she couldn’t stand me rather than stringing me along and casting her spell, causing me to fall more and more in love with her brilliant mind and gorgeous body.
"Is Thomas married?" she asked, snapping me out of my reverie.
"Yes, he has two small children. Of course, they will not be at the party. They’re having a small private gathering with just the family for the kids."
Becca grinned. "So, all the fun will happen at the Delphi Lounge?"
I chuckled. "Something like that." I sipped the bold espresso. "Once we’re married, what are your plans?" I asked, wanting to know more about her.
Her eyes widened, and a flicker of fear passed over her face. "What do you mean?" Becca bit her bagel and swallowed. “Once we’re married, I’ll be your wife. That’s kind of the point of this whole thing, isn’t it?” she asked.
“I know that, but will you play your role?" I prompted. My greatest fear poured out of my mouth, "Our families need this arrangement to work, and you've done a great job so far, but ..."
Becca laughed humorlessly. "Oh, silly me. Do you want to be sure that my role as a socialite fiancé will transform into a socialite wife? Do you want to go over the onboarding process? Oh no, wait. I get it. Do you want to be sure that once the money hits my family's account, I won't shirk my duties, take the money and run?” she cooed. She shot me a look that lodged under my ribs like a knife.
"Becca, I don't mean it like that. Our relationship isn't a typical one, and we need to talk logistics. It’s uncomfortable but avoiding these conversations won't help us."
She sipped her black coffee. "You're right," she said resignedly.
"So, will you?" I asked.
She regarded me coolly, taking another sip of her coffee. "If that's what you want."
"It's not a matter of want. I need it for my business and legacy that I hope to pass on to our children."
"But ..." she furrowed her brow in thought for a moment. "What if I want something different?" I started to speak, but she continued. "What if I'm not the typical wife?" she asked.
I felt a headache form at the base of my skull. "What do you mean?"
"I mean, I can be everything you want, but I can still do something else."
It clicked in my mind. "Yes, I remember your mother talking about you wanting to own a business." I reached out and placed my hand over hers. "I'm not a monster. I can buy you a business. What about a nice little flower shop? You can decorate the interior, and your company can do the flowers for local events."
She frowned. “A flower shop? Sebastian. I can’t even keep a succulent alive! I’ve never said anything about flowers. That’s your idea of a business for me? A fucking flower shop?” she hissed. I put my hands up in defense. I must have touched a nerve. I’ve never heard her swear before.
“Or whatever you want,” I said weakly. "It might be best if I purchase an existing shop." I looked at her and smiled. "Don't worry. You can remodel it any way you like," I added.
She narrowed her eyes at me, and for a moment, I worried she might try to storm away to the back of the jet.
"Okay, I'll think about it." Her voice was strained. "What if I want to run the business? You know, be in the trenches like you are," Becca suggested.
"Becca, that's not possible. Once we’re married, you will have too many commitments, and then when the kids come along, you’ll have even less time."
Becca deflated. Her posture melted. She curled into herself, tucking her foot under her leg.
I got up from my seat and sat next to her. "I promise you’ll have time for hobbies and visiting friends. I'll hire the best nannies to help. I'm sorry, there won't be time to run a business hands-on. Besides, it's not a good look for you," I added.
