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“What's the point in doing so?” she asked. “The bullet’s left the chamber. It's not as though you can bring it back.”
I went silent, determined not to speak to her until she got her head screwed back on.
“I'd truly like to say that rejecting him wouldn’t be a problem because he knows how to separate business from pleasure, but before this very moment, that was also what I’d thought about him, yet now this is happening, so I don’t know what to think about him anymore.
“I’ll find out,” I started to leave the bathroom, especially as some women came in, but Sophie stopped me.
I halted in the hallway and leaned against the wall to stare at the gorgeous painting of candelabra and calla lilies positioned at the end.
“I don’t know,” she said. “I think you can ask him if this will make things awkward—”
“I already did,” I replied.
“And what did he say?” she asked.
“He said it would be fine.”
“Of course, he’d say that.”
“You don’t believe him?” I asked.
“I do believe him,” she replied. “It's just... I would prefer none of this happened. But on the other hand, we're talking about him. Will you survive it?”
I scoffed. "This might only be a one-time thing. Who knows if it'll even be any good? And I'm incredibly good at ignoring what or who I want to ignore, so I'm not worried about myself."
“And what about me?” she asked. “Give me a reason why I shouldn't worry as well.”
“Because when you return, you won't have the memories. So if you trust that he can remove that from his mind, then you won't have to worry about any awkwardness. We could see it as some sort of business negotiation.”
“Well, if it is a business negotiation, then it must have a start date and an end date, right?” she asked.
This made sense to me.
“I don’t want him expecting after you leave in a week and when I return that we will continue from where you two stopped.”
“Eww,” I said, and she agreed.
“Exactly. So if you're doing this, then ensure that it ends on Sunday and that you both agree. After Sunday it’s never, ever to be brought up again.”
“Alright,” I replied, feeling much better. I wanted to thank her for being flexible, but my ego wouldn’t let me, so I hung up the phone instead and formulated my question clearly.
Afterwards, I returned to the hall and our table, ready to accept and negotiate. I felt so excited that I was nearly wobbly on my knees, and this fire only ever seemed to burn even harder as I approached and watched him. I couldn’t take my eyes off him, and unable to help myself, I undid a button of my waistcoat.
Unfortunately, he lifted his gaze to mine right then in the act. I was once again so deadly embarrassed that my cheeks flushed pink, but I didn’t fix my now very provocative appearance.
Walking was hard, but when I lowered to take my seat, I felt his eyes go to the opening and feast on my breasts.
I was so turned on it was impossible to breathe, but seeing that our food and wine had been delivered, I managed to compose myself.
He, on the other hand, was outright with everything he did, and it was a while later before he finally lifted his gaze to my face.
“Am I to assume by your button that you've decided to take me up on my proposal?” He asked.
I cut a piece of sirloin and nodded as I put it in my mouth. I made him wait until I finished chewing, and then I replied.
“Yes,” I replied. “But there are conditions, and I have questions.”
“Sure,” he said and kept eating.
