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I have questions of my own.
Lots of ‘em.
But the main one is…
Should I go through with this?
Elizabeth seems like a nice girl. One with a good head on her shoulders. One who’d balk at the thought of marrying some guy she’s known for a handful of hours.
At the most, I was hoping for someone who’d be interested in a financial arrangement. A payout at the end of seven days. An understanding that I won’t ever, under any circumstances, choose to stay married when the time is up.
She was a nameless woman.
A faceless woman.
Hopefully, a greedy one.
But now that I’m here.
It’s not some woman.
It’s her.
And it’s… different.
I start to back away from the table but freeze as an image of a little girl with dark eyes and the bravest smile in the world marches through my head.
Determinedly, I sit.
Elizabeth’s expression is one I can’t read. She seems nervous, if the way she’s gripping the napkin is any indication. Maybe she’s disappointed to see me.
“I’m starving,” she says in an obvious attempt to make conversation. Leaning forward, she whispers, “Doesn’t this place feel a little fancy to you?”
It’s fancy at my request.
I’m proposing here.
I didn’t want to do so in a common diner.
Not that it matters in the long run.
“You can choose anything you’d like.” I nod to the menu.
She clutches her waist. “I know it might not look it, but I love to eat. Don’t regret your words later.”
Regrets? I’ve had my share of them. One more wouldn’t faze me.
I gesture for her to eat.
We call the waiter.
Elizabeth orders steak and I get the same.
“So,” she folds her fingers together, “I hope you don’t think I intentionally orchestrated our date so I could trap you into marriage later.”
I lean forward. “Actually, I’m the one who’d like to do the trapping.”
“What?”
