I Married a Master(19)
Author: Melanie Marchande

"Actually, I think you are." She wasn’t sitting back down yet, but at least she was standing still. "Assuming your settlement was legally binding, if I were to do this with you – if anyone were to do this with you, that’s like lying to the courts. Implicitly."

I didn’t actually know the law from a hole in the ground, but she didn’t know that. "Let me guess – you picked up all of your legal knowledge from Judge Judy."

Smirking, she made her way back to the love seat. "Maybe so, but I know the difference between a lie and the truth. And what you’re asking me to do – what if your ex-wife challenges it in court? You’ll be asking me to commit perjury."

"She won’t," I said, with considerably more confidence than I felt. "If it’s mildly convincing, she’s not going to bother. Trust me. She knows I can outlast her in court, and I’m not going to give up."

Leaning forward in her seat, she looked at me searchingly. "How do you plan on explaining you just happen to be getting married right before the deadline?"

Ah ha. I smiled, leaning back in my seat. I’d actually put some thought into this, and I was rather proud of it. "So, this one requires fudging the truth a little bit. But Daniel’s…you know, he’s techy, and he’s got a bunch of those types who will do his bidding. We’ll create a false history of correspondence between us, going back a year or two. Daria and I met online, so that’ll be a very believable origin story for us. If I make it seem as though I’ve been really interested in you for a long time, and we’ve been slowly moving along in the progression of our relationship, it makes sense that I’d eventually tell you about my dilemma and of course you’d agree to help me. But I waited as long as I could, because I didn’t want to scare you off – I didn’t want to put pressure on you. I didn’t want to ruin what we had."

She was processing all of this, but she didn’t immediately laugh it off. I took that as a positive sign.

"So, I only just moved here a couple weeks ago, and we’re already talking about marriage?" She hugged her arms close to her torso. "Do you usually move that fast?"

"Like I said – I’m going to create a history. You can get to know somebody pretty well over a long-distance relationship."

Jenna raised an eyebrow. "Evidently not well enough."

Sighing, I massaged my temples. "I lived with Daria for years before I had any idea who she really was. The way we met didn’t matter. People who want to hide can always hide, even when you’re looking them right in the face."

The irony wasn’t lost on me. I was asking for an absurd amount of trust from her, and there was no getting around that.

She was wavering on the edge of a decision. I could tell. Before I could stop myself, I said:

"Do you really want to be a nanny for the rest of your life?"

There was a moment of heavy silence.

"I’m not a nanny," she said, her mouth twisting. "I told you, I was just helping out that day."

"Daniel told me he hired you." I steepled my fingers together, staring at the Newton’s cradle on my desk. "I’m not really sure why you bothered to hide it."

"Because. You, and everybody else in the known world, thinks it’s stupid to try and be an actor. You all think I’m going to fail, and you can’t wait to give me well-meaning advice about it." Bitterness tinged her voice. "I don’t need to give anybody more ammunition. Most people work on the side while they’re trying to get started with acting. But if I do it, suddenly it’s a sign that I need to just give up."

I could feel the tide of fear and insecurity behind her fierce defensiveness. There was no reasoning with her – not when she already thought I didn’t believe in her.

"Think about it a different way," I said. "Wouldn’t this be the performance of a lifetime?"

She let out a soft, humorless laugh. "Sure. But what difference would it make? Nobody except you and me will know."

If I was right, this would eventually sink in. Her own self-doubt would assure that she eventually accepted my offer. She needed to prove her abilities to herself, much more than she needed to prove them to anyone else.

"I’m not asking you for an answer today," I said. "Just think about it. If you have any questions, ask. In the meantime, we can talk about something else. Or nothing. You can go watch TV if you want, and pretend I’m not even here. I just thought it was high time for me to be honest with you." I lifted my hands in a supplicating gesture. "And whatever you say, whatever you decide, you’re welcome to stay here until your street opens back up."

She bit on her lower lip. "How long have you been planning to ask me about this?"

"Not long." It wasn’t exactly a lie. "You just seem sensible and level-headed, and I think Daria would believe I might fall for somebody like you."

She bit down harder. I’d said it very casually, almost thoughtlessly, but it had the desired impact. No matter how she felt about me, that was flattering.

Finally, she released her now-swollen lip with a little pop. "Did you really think that would work?" she asked, with a sardonic smile.

"What?" I said, innocently. "It’s true. Come on, Jenna – give me a little credit. Shallow flattery obviously isn’t going to work on someone like you."

She laughed, rolling her eyes as she stood up. "You are something else. If I ask where your bathroom is, will you be able to answer me without calculating the best possible wording for the flattery of the human female?"

Why did I think it would be a good idea to marry her, again?

"Down the hall, second door on the right."

As she left the room, I remembered.

No, not because of that. Well – not entirely because of that, at any rate.

It was the way I felt whenever she walked away angry at me. Like something was wrong in the world, and I had to fix it.

Chase, you are in deep trouble.

***

When she found me a little while later, I was in the kitchen, fighting a silent battle with myself. I heard her walk up, and noticed her standing in the doorway without actually seeing her there.

"A million dollars? That’s lunch money to you, Mr. Chase. You’re going to have to do better than that."

I was going to offer her two million, but she’d managed to stomp all over my very well-scripted and impressive offer. I was even going to go down on one knee – in an ironic way, of course. I’d never actually marry this woman. One of us would end up dead before the honeymoon was over.

"You drive a hard bargain," I told her. "Two million. But that’s my final offer."

She laughed. "How much did you have to drink while I was gone?"