“You borrow money from shark?” I ask.
She laughs but there’s no humor in it and her eyes reflect something akin to terror. “Oh, yeah. I fucked up royally.”
“And Friday?” I ask carefully.
“On Friday, I have to pay back the money or…”
“Or?”
“I don’t know,” she whispers, letting her chin hit her chest. “I think they…hurt people who don’t pay them back.”
I’ve met Holly three or four times over the last couple of weeks, during the wedding planning, so this shouldn’t involve me. It’s none of my business. Not my circus, not my monkey, as my roommates would say.
But staring into her pretty face and tear-filled eyes, I can’t bring myself to just walk away. She looks genuinely afraid, and what kind of man would I be if I didn’t at least try to help an acquaintance?.?
“Maybe Serena and West—” I start to say but she shakes her head.
“I’m already living in Serena’s old apartment for free. I can’t ask for money too.”
And as I’m standing there, staring at her worriedly, an idea starts to take root. I can’t explain where it came from, but the second it hits me, I realize it’s a solution for both of us. It’s crazy but it might work.
If she’s on board.
If she’s willing to hear me out.
“I have…idea,” I say carefully.
“I’m open to just about anything,” she says, staring at me.
“Keep the open mind, yes?”
She nods. “I don’t have a choice.”
“I have problem also. My mother…” I think about how to explain. “Is complicated. My mother arranges marriage for me. I don’t want this.” I pause again, trying to articulate as best I can with my broken English. “If I already have wife, she cannot arrange anything.”
Holly blinks. “I don’t think I understand.”
“We get married,” I suggest slowly. “And I give you one million dollars.”
Her brows knit together. “A million…dollars? To marry you. What are you talking about?” She looks more confused than anything else.
“Two million,” I say impulsively, almost desperate to convince her that I haven’t completely lost my mind. “One million now, so you can pay shark, and another million in one year, when we divorce.”
Her mouth falls open and then she snaps it shut. “You’re fucking with me, right?”
I shake my head. “No. My mother…” I put a hand on the wall and look at her. “We can talk downstairs? My friend Kelly, she can translate because my English is not so good.”
“You can’t be serious.”
“Very serious. Come. Kelly will explain. After, you can decide.” I motion with my arm for her to walk ahead of me.
She hesitates again but then makes her way to the stairs with me behind her.
I see Kelly standing by the bar, laughing with Derek Quinn, one of my team’s assistant coaches. They seem to be chatting like old friends, which is nice, because though she won’t admit it, I think she’s lonely.
“Kelly.” I hate interrupting but this is important. “I need you to translate, please.” I nod at Coach Quinn apologetically.
He nods back and smiles. “I’ll see you later, Kelly.”
