She almost choked on the food dancing down her throat.
"Okay...Wait! Just wait a minute. That last part got me too. What did he just say?" Her thoughts echoed, trying to organize themselves into a perfect line of symmetry, but they only joined for a few moments or two just to distort themselves again.
"Miss. Mia?" He called out, but his voice seemed lost in an underwater struggle in her ears. Her eyes were fixed on thin- lined designs on the ceramic plate which still held her meal.
"Miss. Mia did you hear what I just said?" He called again from the other side of the table.
"Miss. Mia!" His voice grew louder and a little cold at once, snapping her out of the distortion of her mind.
"I was asking if you heard what I said." His eyes clouded with impatience.
"I...I heard? I mean...I think I did. Or maybe I didn't or was I sleeping just a while ago?" She fidgeted with her words, glancing at him. She fixed her hands by her side, rubbed her palms together beneath the table, unable to keep them at ease.
"Which means you heard. And you heard what I said." His gaze dulled in certainty, locking in hers and she immediately looked away, feeling self-aware.
"Can you say something Miss. Mia? I'd appreciate that." He requested.
"Actually, I don't think I heard you, Sir. What did you actually say?" She asked, lowering her voice with each word, feigning ignorance.
"A marriage contract." His response came so soon, almost interrupting her final words. God! That drop-dead confidence! She needed it that moment!
"And for the record, you can call me 'Rey', or 'Rey Rey', or 'Reynaldo', or 'Mr. Davies'. That would be less awkward for you. I have said that before."
But, wasn't this more awkward?
"Why would I call you that, Sir?" Her brows furrowed, thick enough to hide the fact that he could almost read her mind.
"Oh! There you go again, Miss. Mia. Well...we are discussing a potential business right now and you should know the language of business, don't you?" He leaned a little forward, waiting for a response.
"I thought that was supposed to be rhetorical?" A voice in her mind whispered.
"Uh...yeah!" She said, followed by a high-pitched nervous laughter.
Oh shit! That was a lie!
"My parents are putting pressure on me, especially from my father. He wants me to present a potential daughter-in-law and I am really not ready for marriage right now. I have a lot of stuff going on in my life and marriage is the least of them. The main reason I don't want to get married, I would be keeping that to myself." He paused and took in a few silent breaths, watching her, hoping She'd say something, but when she didn't, he continued.
"So I came up with the idea of a marriage contract, you may call it a business proposal because you will get paid on a monthly basis if it becomes a contract, eventually. It wouldn't last more than six months. I'd come up with a good break up plan after his sixtieth birthday."
"Honestly ...It excites me to let you know you have passed the requirements for this job without any probing. It is just left to you to decide. The salary would be an agreed amount, mostly on your terms. And anyways, all of that will be stipulated in the business proposal." He paused, warming himself with an overboard confidence, certain she couldn't refuse this chance.
"So, Miss. Mia," He continued.
"Do you consider my proposal a viable and profitable contract for both our benefits?" He said, crossing his right leg on the left one, exposing the muscular terseness of his thighs.
"Sir, I'm sorry to disappoint you but I don't have any interest in signing a marriage contract. I work here as a cook but I have a life of my own too. It may not be a big and popular one, with the main character's energy, but I'm fine with that. Although I may not have allowed you to spill all your words, I'm sorry, I just can't do it." She said, her gaze darting elsewhere, refusing to meet his eyes not even for a second.
"What if I decided to make it double the amount you would demand?" He asked. He was brewing desperate. It was signed all over his face.
"I beg your pardon, Sir, I mean uh... Mr. Davies, but why must it be me? Aren't there many young ladies out there who are ready to be yours if he just asked?" A summoned confidence, sprung in her voice.
"I have my judgements to make when it involves women. That's really not your problem, it's mine. I wanted you and I went for you." He leaned closer and stared in his eyes became passionate, but Mia had to snap out of it.
A warm feeling crept across her chest and tugged at the corner of her lips, but she didn't give in. Did he even know the effect of his words on her? Especially that last line?
He began talking again, lowering his voice into a soft tone, "For one, I'm already used to having you around, strangely, because everything feels comfortable with you around. Moreover, you're my cook and since my mum has never visited me, they'd probably assume we live together. I mean, there are many reasons why you and I would make a perfect match." He finished off.
Oh! Another string tugged at her heart. Sweat curled in swift lines down her stomach and her cheeks flushed as she tried to normalize the sudden paleness of her skin.
Maybe it was the fact that he had chosen her over all the girls he dated.
Maybe it was because she was just a subservient. How was she going to bear hearing him say things like that so casually?
How was she going to bear the sweet torment and torture it caused to the air escaping her throat? How was she going to heal from them everyday, knowing she was his pretend fiancé, when she had never even experienced love?
"I'm sorry. I...I can't. I can't do it." She said, and immediately rose up.
To avoid prolonging the awkwardness of the moment already hanging in the air, she began gathering the dishes they had used for dinner. The very first meal she had ever had with her boss—and probably the last—she thought.
Goosebumps ran all over her skin, as she walked up to where he sat, in order to collect and clean up his side of the luxury ten seater dining table after dinner. As she cleaned, his finger brush passed hers and she stepped aside for him, But to her surprise, he picked her hands and held it in a warm handshake.
"It's what business partners do, whether they work together or not," he said, a wide smile spreading across his face, his eyes crinkling at the corners.
For the first time in the five years they'd lived together, his smile didn't falter, didn't fade away halfway, but instead shone bright and genuine, albeit a bit stiff. But no, she scolded herself, she shouldn't be swayed so easily by a simple smile!