“I can’t pawn sentimental value when I never hear from you again,” she said after a moment of contemplation.
“That’s a bonus.” I squared my shoulders, sitting taller. “I’d be very displeased if you lost it. That’s why you can be sure I’ll come back for it.”
Those blue eyes of hers narrowed and remained on mine, probing. With the truths I’d withheld, her focus had my heart racing. Cynics didn’t trust easy. They expected the worst of others. If a deal sounded even moderately good, they lost themselves searching for the catch. That’s why you targeted optimists with scams. They wanted to believe. Why would a Nigerian prince lie?
“Fine,” she huffed and stuck her arm halfway across the table, palm open. “Let’s get married, but I’m not signing until I see the money.”
I snatched her hand and sealed the deal. It had been sure thing, but checking it off my list sent a smile to my face. Emma noticed. Her hand flinched in mine. One corner of her lips curled up.
Mutual Consideration
Emma
The row of houses strobed with the street lamps through the window of the taxi. Ian, my soon-to-be husband fell silent when we got in. Always smart to button up around third parties. I followed his example. He had certainly given me enough to think about but the only image floating in my thoughts was his brief smile.
My mom had taught me all about men; how to read them and learn what they really wanted. More importantly, she made sure I knew how to turn that to my advantage. Ian provided me with an enigma, an offer too good to be true. There had to be a catch, something he wasn’t telling me.
An attractive guy in his mid 20s didn’t have to pay someone £20,000 to marry them. Not wanting a local, someone he’d run into a lot as a fake wife made some sense, but I assumed he was gay and needed a beard, another one. Then again, if he was gay, his looks at me wouldn’t have lingered the way they did. No, he had another secret.
That smile. He’d kept his expressions controlled the whole night. Not perfectly – a few nuggets of the real him had peeked through, often in those lingering looks. The moment I’d agreed to his ‘too good to be true’ deal he flashed a genuine grin. What did it mean?
Victory? I had agreed, even shaken on it. If he still held some deep dark secret, getting my acceptance without spilling it could have brought out that smile. But that wasn’t the only option.
I’d seen smiles like that before. Had a few boys pursuing me flash them my way. It even had me thinking of my father’s reaction to my mom just hours ago – though it felt so much longer. He had grinned at her like that.
If that was true, I had Ian right where I wanted him. Mom had taught me how to handle men, especially when they wanted me. Those were the easiest men to manipulate. Hell, it’d be a pleasure with a guy like him. I wouldn’t have to fake it as much. I might have needled him over the white knighting, but seeing him in action, that supreme confidence, it did something for me.
The cab pulled to the side of the road in front of a long, three-story brick building. Clean with a well-kept entryway, not luxury condos but he wasn’t living in the projects either. Not a bad first impression for his apartment but I’d learn a lot more when we got inside.
Ian held his hand out for me after exiting the back of the cab. I allowed it, grasping his hand as I stood. His fingers loosened but I held on a few seconds longer. He bit his lip; he hadn’t expected that. In the end, he was a man and didn’t question my touch.
We walked hand in hand to the lobby door. My mental rent for his apartment rose when we stepped onto the marble tiles inside. Nobody manned the desk after hours, but just it being there bumped the price again. Maybe I should have negotiated a little harder.
He led me to a door on the second floor, facing the street and adding more to my mental rent. My anticipation grew. A living space said a lot about a person, about what they considered important – and that went well beyond the level of mess or clutter. Would his apartment confirm or contrast my thinking about him?
The door opened and he stepped aside, motioning to me to step through. As little as I trusted the man, I knew I was safe. In the apartment of any other relative stranger halfway across the world without anyone knowing where I was or who I was with, I’d have deserved any consequences of entering on sheer idiocy. But I knew instinctively that Ian wouldn’t hurt me.
The foyer gave me little. Clean hardwood floors told me he probably wasn’t a slob, but shadows hid the main room beyond. Ian closed the door behind me and flicked a switch. I blinked at the new brightness, then surveyed my surroundings.
A small kitchenette sat to one side of the room. No dishes in the sink or on the counter, not much of anything except an electric kettle. A dining table separated the kitchen from the living room. A closed laptop sat next to a couple of file folders at the head of the table. The living room centered around the television. Modest in size, it didn’t dominate the wall it hung on. A PS4 with a small collection of games and DVDs sat on shelves below it, IKEA by the look of it.
“I know you’re analyzing my apartment,” Ian said behind me. “What have you learned about me?”
Yeah, and he only asked so he could glean a few more nuggets from me, test how observant I was. That didn’t hold my tongue though.
“You’re not much of a cook,” I began, a finger pointing to the kitchen. “Do you even own a frying pan?”
“It’s a fair cop.” He offered a shrug and nod.
“You could use a bookshelf or two.” I waved at the TV-focused living room. “You’ve got the right sized TV, nothing outlandish.”
“Outlandish?” he asked.
“If you had a 90-inch mammoth taking up the whole wall, it would tell me that video games and TV were the most important part of your life,” I answered. “Yours fits the size of your apartment, though you need some more art on the walls. Don’t you know blank walls are creepy?”
“What would you suggest?” he asked.
“I have a soft spot for Art Nouveau, myself.” I glanced around the room before pointing to a spot between the street-facing windows. “A Mucha print right there would make you look almost sophisticated.”
