Page 26 of The Prisoner


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I shook my head. “No.”

“Not even smoked a joint?”

“Not even. What about you?”

“Believe it or not, I haven’t. I vowed I wouldn’t after my brother died.” He held up his wineglass. “This is my vice.”

“I don’t really drink either. In fact, I’ve probably drank more this lunchtime than I have in my whole life.”

He lapsed into silence, and I didn’t know whether he hadn’t heard what I said or if he was thinking about it. I took a sip of wine, so smooth and velvety that I took another sip.

“It’s a Château Margaux,” he said, and I realized he’d been watching me.

I laughed. “I have no idea what that is.”

He smiled. “A very nice wine.”

“Then I’ll make sure to remember the name.”

“Actually Amelie, the reason I mentioned my marriage is because I have a proposition for you. A business proposition,” he added, stressing the wordbusiness.

“Oh?” I said, intrigued.

“From what you’ve told me, you’ve been working for the last couple of years to be able to pay for yourself to go to college.”

“That’s right.”

“How much does it cost to go to college nowadays?”

“Without a grant? Around twenty thousand a year, for fees and accommodation, maybe more. Then there’s living expenses and books. So, between twenty-five thousand and thirty thousand.”

“And how many years are you planning on being at college?”

“A basic law degree is three years. And then I’ll hopefully have a two-year training contract with a good law firm.”

“So, you’re looking at an outlay of around a hundred thousand for three years.”

“Not quite,” I said, wincing inwardly at the amount. “But I hope to get a grant, and I’ll have to get a part-time job to cover the rest.”

He leaned back in his chair. “Okay, so here’s my proposition. I’ll give you the hundred thousand you need to go to college if you marry me now, here in Las Vegas.”

I stared at him. “Marry you?”

“In name only,” he said firmly. “And for the shortest time possible. As I said, it’s a business proposition, not a proposal.” Now he leaned forward. “Think about it, Amelie. We get married, I give you a hundred thousand. My parents are furious but powerless. I’m off the hook regarding Isobel Algerson and you can go to college without having to worry about money. A couple of weeks later, we say that we got carried away by the whole Las Vegas vibe, we’ve realized now that our marriage was a silly mistake, and that we’re separating. Then we file for divorce.”

I couldn’t believe he was serious. “We couldn’t,” I said. “It wouldn’t work.”

“Why not?”

“Because nobody would believe it. I mean, why would we get married? I work for you, you’re my boss. It’s not as if we’ve hung out together or anything.”

“We can say we’ve been seeing each other secretly.”

I laughed. “You really think that people would believe that?”

“Why wouldn’t they?”

“Because no one would believe that you would actually marry me, not when you are who you are, and I’m who I am.”

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