by Lexi Aurora
“Okay,” she finally answered.
“Okay? What does that mean? Okay to what, exactly?” His voice sounded excited, almost feverish.
"Okay, I believe you. About my number being in your pocket. I don't know how it wound up there, but the people I work with at The Bellevue don't have a whole lot of scruples. I definitely wouldn't put it past them to pull a stunt like that. Although I guess I don't work with them anymore, do I?"
“Does that mean you’re willing to talk to me?” Zach’s voice was cautious, but Betty thought it was cautiously optimistic. He chose to gloss over and ignore entirely the reference to her firing, for which Betty didn’t blame him. If she had been responsible for getting another person fired she wouldn’t want to talk about it, either. Although she seriously doubted she would ever do anything that would get somebody fired, which was just one of the many differences between the two of them. She should hang up the phone, pour herself a glass of the cheap Riesling chilling in her fridge, and call it a night. That was what she should do.
“Alright.”
“You’ll talk to me?”
“I’ll listen to what you have to say, at least for a little while. But not if you keep asking me. Hasn’t anyone ever told you how annoying it is to have somebody repeat themselves?”
“No,” he laughed, “they haven’t. I don’t usually act like such a moron.”
"I'll have to take your word for it," Betty answered dryly. It wasn't a nice thing to say, but she was far from being in a nice mood.
“I guess you will,” he sighed, “but I hope to make you believe it eventually. I need you to understand that I never meant to get you in trouble today.”
“You already told me that.”
“I know. I need you to believe me.”
"You know what, though? It doesn't matter whether I believe you or not. The fact is, you did get me in trouble. You got me more than in trouble; you got me fired. I know I played a part in it–"
“No. As far as I’m concerned, you didn’t. That was all me. I fucked up.”
"That's very chivalrous of you, but it's not true. I should have had a better handle on things. I shouldn't have let you distract me, especially when I knew it was me who would deal with the consequences if you did."
"Let me make it up to you, then. I want to take you out. I did before, and I want it even more now."
“Two problems with that. First, I’m not your charity case–”
“Nobody is saying that you are. Taking girls out because I feel sorry for them isn’t my style.”
“And second,” she went on as if he hadn’t spoken. She was determined to have her say without letting him derail her or talk her into submission. “Second, I don’t go out with guys who already have fiancées. Never saw the point in it. Call me crazy.”
“I know that part makes me look like a dick, but–”
“You said it, not me.”
“But there’s a reason for it. I’m hoping you’re willing to believe me.”
"I'm willing to listen. That's all." Betty felt like she was having an out of body experience. There was the part of her agreeing to hear him out, the part still having this conversation. Then there was the other part of her. This was the part that was screaming inside of her head for her to hang up and never look back. She wasn't a stupid girl, but he sure must have thought of her that way if he believed she was going to fall for whatever crap he was about to spout. The best thing for her to do was extricate herself from his crazy before it hurt her any more than it already had. She knew it was the smart play, and still, she listened. She had to hand it to him; he certainly had a talent for captivating his audience.
"You might not believe this, but I'm kind of the black sheep in my family. When it comes to business, I'm great, but it's always been a major thorn in my side that I wouldn't take any money from my dad to get started."
"But why? I would think he would be glad that you didn't want anything. Sounds like a parent's dream." She couldn't help it. She was fascinated. She thought about all of the times she had seen this man on the cover of a magazine or glimpsed him on a television screen while hurrying on her way to do something more important than watch gossip. She understood that there were people who would have done just about anything to get the insight she was getting into Zach right now. The things he was telling her weren't part of the dialogue about him she'd picked up through osmosis and through the inane conversations of her former co-workers. This stuff was all new and she was inclined to believe him. There was vulnerability in his face. More than that, there was pain. Not only did he finally feel really human to her, he felt like her, too. She wasn't yet sure what this believing meant for how she felt about everything, but she believed him. Point one in his direction.
“You would think, right? But my dad isn’t most parents. He would have loved for me to ask for money, for plenty of it, because it would have given him something to hold over me. That’s what drives him crazy about me. He never wanted me to be successful without using him as a crutch.” His voice had taken on a hard, bitter quality that she hadn’t heard in her limited experience with him. When she heard him sound like this, she had a much less difficult time imagining him as the ruthless business mogul he had earned a reputation for being.
“Are you sure? That’s a pretty poor characterization.”
“Who gives a shit if it’s poor if it’s true?”
“Okay, so maybe your dad sucks. What does that have to do with you being engaged?”
"It wasn't me. It was a setup. He agreed to it, agreed to my marrying her, without my consent. I keep telling people I don't want to do it, that I won’t do it, but nobody is all that interested in what I have to say on the matter. I feel like a fucking ghost.”
“But that’s insane. What you’re talking about is an arranged marriage.”
“Yeah, I’m aware of that.”
“But this is the United States. Things like that don’t happen here. People don’t do that kind of thing.”
“I told you, my people aren’t the normal kind of people. My parents don’t approve of my social life with women–”
“Yeah, I’ve heard tidbits here and there. I can’t say I blame them.”
"Fine," he answered hotly, the first sign of anger he'd flashed at her since this conversation had begun, "don't blame them. I’m aware of what my lifestyle has been like. I work hard, and I've played hard. I don't care if you blame them or not, but my past doesn't give them the right to dictate my future."
“Okay, okay, you’re right. It doesn’t.” Was she agreeing with him, then? Was she actually comforting him? After every exhausting thing that had transpired that day and all of her righteous anger, she couldn’t quite figure out how she had wound up in the role of counselor. Nor did she understand how any of this had anything to do with her.
“Lucille, that’s her name, she doesn’t have any problem with it, either. That’s the really fucked up thing. She seems thrilled with the whole thing, which makes me wonder what kind of person she is. My guess is that it’s all greed, all the time.”
“Alright but, Zach? I’m not trying to sound like a bitch here, I’m honestly not, but what does any of this have to do with me?” She spoke gently now, most of the anger drained out of her, but she still felt bad as soon as the words were out of her mouth. Whether she meant to be a bitch or not, the question still sounded unbelievably harsh.
"I need to make them understand, once and for all, that this marriage isn't going to happen. My parents need to understand it, and Lucille needs to understand it, too."
“Okay. And?”
“And that’s where I was hoping you could help me out.”
“You want me to pretend to date you?”
“I would prefer it if you would actually date me, but–”
“Zach. We’ve already been over this. What I saw at The Bellevue -”
“I know. I maintain it wasn’t what you think it was but I know. So then yes, I guess I want you to preten
d to date me.”
“And why on Earth would I do a thing like that?” She was utterly flabbergasted. She had no idea what had given him the impression that she would be open to something like that. Maybe the fact that she was still on the phone, that she hadn’t hung up. And why exactly was that, again?
“Because,” Zach answered, his voice oddly flat and all business, “I’m going to give you one hell of a tip in return.”
Chapter Six
Betty Ingrid
TOTAL SILENCE. FOR a moment that seemed to stretch out into eternity, Betty said nothing at all. It sounded to her as if the rest of the world around her had frozen as well. From outside of her window, she heard none of the normal street traffic and petty crime that was part of the daily soundtrack of city life. The only sounds that broke through the quiet were those of Gus Gus' faint purring and a very faint humming sound coming over the line of her telephone. If it hadn't been for those two things, she might have believed that the world had stopped and gone utterly quiet. Then Zach cleared his throat and broke the illusion. She pulled the phone away from her ear briefly and stared at it as if she might be able to catch a glimpse of his face and see if he was serious about this nutty proposal or if he was just looking for a new way to mess with her. When she heard him speak again, his voice sounding far away with the phone pulled down like it was, she returned it to her ear.
“Betty? Are you still there?” His voice was all nerves.
“I’m here.”
“Good. That’s a start. I thought you might have hung up on me and I have a feeling that if you do that, you’re going to block my number.”
“Would you blame me?”
“No,” he sighed, “not at all.”
“Are you serious? Are you actually asking me to do this?”
“I’m dead serious. I never joke about business propositions.”
“You’re asking me to be your fake girlfriend?”
“As a means to an end, yes.”
“Um, okay. Wow.”
“What are your thoughts? Walk me through them. Let’s see if we can’t come up with an arrangement that we’re both comfortable with.”
Again, Betty was rendered momentarily mute. In many ways, she had lived a difficult life, with very few unexpected opportunities coming her way. Even when she dreamed of one, back when that kind of dream had still felt possible for her, never in her wildest imagination had she expected to come up against something like this. She was pretty sure a movie had been made based on a premise like this once, and that was fine. Movies could be built on insane notions. It was one of the reasons people went to see them in the first place. But for it to happen in real life? For it to happen to her? That was another story entirely.
“Betty?”
“I heard you. If you want me to be comfortable with it, stop pushing me. Give me time to think.” She sounded shrill and maybe on the verge of a little panic attack to boot.
“Sure,” he answered quickly, “that’s only fair. But tell me one thing.”
“What? What is it?”
“Does that mean you’re considering it?”
"I guess it does." She stopped, considering if she really meant it. It was nuts. It was totally insane to even consider doing what he was asking, and yet she couldn't think of a reason not to. The most important thing to her was getting through school. She had been going, off and on, since she was eighteen years old, and at twenty-six she was finally close to the finish line. The fact that she hadn't been able to finish faster, to go at a faster pace, was one of the great regrets of her life. It hadn't been due to lack of desire or intellect on her part but had come down to money. Betty was of the opinion that, in the end, almost everything did. The thought of walking across the stage and maybe even carving out a better place of the world for herself was what had kept her trudging through the years of hard work and little thanks she had endured. Now, she was out of a job, and something told her she wouldn't be getting a good referral from The Bellevue. If she wanted to get through with school, she needed money. Zach was offering her an opportunity to get that money. It was a conventional arrangement but so what? Convention wasn't going to keep her electricity on.
"I may wind up really regretting this, but I'm in." Her heart leaped into her throat. Even after coming to the firm decision in her head, she couldn't quite believe she had said those words out loud.
“Awesome!” he crowed so loudly that she had to pull the phone away from her ear yet again, “Seriously, that’s really great to hear. You aren’t going to regret this, Betty. I know you think that’s a crock of shit but I promise you, you won’t.”
“Hang on, Zach. Before you get too excited–”
“Too late,” he inserted, his voice on the verge of manic at this point.
“Before you get too excited, I’m going to need some things set out first for this to be a go.”
“Name them. I’ll give you anything you want.”
“Okay, for starters, I’m going to want all of the details about our arrangement in writing.”
“Definitely. I wouldn’t enter into any agreement without the proper documentation.”
“Secondly, we need to go over some ground rules.”
“You know, for somebody who wasn’t ever going to talk to me a second ago, you are surprisingly adept at this.” His voice was playful and warm now that the tension of waiting for her decision had worn off some. She felt herself softening to him and shook her head violently. If he could have seen her he probably would have thought she was insane; Gus Gus surely thought so judging by the look he was giving her. But she needed to keep her head if she was really going to do this thing. She needed to keep her head or else she would get swallowed up by something too big for her to understand.
“I’m not going to set a certain dollar amount, but I expect to be paid accordingly. Don’t think I’m going to settle for next to nothing just because I’m desperate. I’ve done that before. It’s what I was doing at The Bellevue. I’m never doing that again.”
“Of course. I wouldn’t dream of it. I think you will find your compensation more than satisfactory.”
“Okay, good. The next thing is if I’m going to do this, it’s a business thing. That’s it. It’s only a transaction. That means no feelings, no love, and no commitment. You understanding that part is a big deal. It’s the whole deal, actually. If you can’t agree to this, I’m out.”
“I understand.”
“Do you?”
“I do, and I agree. But if we’re making demands, I’d like to lay out a few of my own conditions. Just to keep things even, you know?”
“Sure,” she answered sarcastically, “wouldn’t want things to be unfair, would we?”
"Right. If you are going to be acting like my girlfriend, and one serious enough to warrant spurning an engagement for, I'll need you to give an excellent performance. I'm talking superb."
“I think I can do that.” She was slightly taken aback by the no-nonsense, authoritative way he was talking now. She had to remind herself that she was the one who had started things down this road. She had wanted to talk terms. That was exactly what they were doing. Negotiating.
“Good. I’m glad to hear it. Just keep in mind that this isn’t a game to me. It’s my life. I understand that it may sound ridiculous to you–”
“I didn’t say that.”
“You didn’t have to say it. I realize that’s how things seem to you, but you have to remember that, ridiculous or not, this is my life. I have no wish to be tied down to somebody I can’t stand for the rest of my life just to please my parents. If we’re going to do this, I need to know you’re fully invested.”
Betty stopped and considered what he was saying. Her first impression of this man hadn’t been the best. She’d considered him to be arrogant and pushy. He’d practically forced her to see him as something different, coming to see her again and again until she felt that she couldn’t resist him any longer. When she’d seen him in The Bellevue fli
rting away like she’d never existed at all, it had confirmed her worst fears about Zach. It had confirmed that he was just like every other man she’d had the misfortune of getting involved with, which, although not many, had let her down one hundred percent of the time. It was easier to believe that he was a creep than it was to believe that maybe his life wasn’t perfect. Believing and acknowledging that he had his own problems to contend with forced her to reevaluate her view of the way the world worked. That was a hard thing to do, especially for somebody who’s experience had so often been trying.
“Betty? Are you still there?”
“I’m here.”
“I couldn’t tell.”
“You asked me to consider things,” she answered irritably, “and that’s what I’m doing. Would you have rathered I blow it off and act like it didn’t matter?”
“No. I’m sorry. I guess I’m not used to people really taking the time to do a thing like that when I ask them to.” He sounded chastised enough for Betty to feel a little sorry for the way she was dealing with him. Not very sorry, not after everything that had gone down, but sorry enough that she adjusted her tone to sound just a little gentler when she spoke to him next.
“The answer is yes.”
“Yes? Yes to which part, exactly? I’m not sure I even know what we’re talking about at this point.”
“Yes to the part about me taking this thing seriously. I'm not going to lie to you and say that I think it’s the roughest life ever to grow up filthy rich.”