“You bring it out in me.”
“I’ll bet you say that to all the girls.” I take a drink of water and find my phone. It’s a quarter to seven. We’ve been going at it for over two hours. I’m going to be sore tomorrow. I’m out of practice. I haven’t had sex for months.
“Can I ask you a question?” he says.
“Shoot.”
“Have you ever done this before?”
I pull on my underwear, hook up my bra. “Do you want me to answer that?”
“I do.”
“Are you sure? You wouldn’t prefer to remain in your male-fantasy bubble, that you’re the only one who can unleash the tigress inside me?”
“Wow,” he says, though he chuckles.
I lean over him, face-to-face. “No, Christian, I have never done anything like this before. I’ve been a very good girl for the last ten years.”
I put my dress back on, a little wrinkled now. As he’s pulling on his trousers, Christian says, “By the way, we never circled back on that trust language.”
“What about it?”
“I’ve never seen language quite like that, but your take on it is accurate. It’s valid and enforceable. You must stay married for ten years before you can touch that money.”
“Tell me about it. But what about my question?”
“Whether you can spend it, without his approval, once you have it.”
I turn and look at him. “That was my question, yes.”
He gives me a poker face for a moment, then winks. “Yes, you can. My lawyer will draw up something just to lock that down and if Simon will sign it, you have no worries. You spend that money however you want. You’re probably okay either way, but best if he signs it.”
“He’ll sign it,” I say. “He trusts me.”
We both pause on the irony of that statement.
“I care about him,” I say. “I don’t want him to get hurt. That’s not my intention.”
“Of course not.” He waves a hand. “With the money I’ll make you, whatever else happens, he’ll be rich beyond his wildest dreams.”
I nod, look away, start gathering my things.
“What happens next?” he says to me.
“Meaning what? I’ll get him to sign whatever form you give me.”
“No,” he says. “I meant... this. Us.”
I look at him.
“Whatever you decide is fine,” he says. “No pressure.”
“Doesn’t the girl usually ask that question?”
He laughs. “Maybe so.”
“Well, now the girl’s asking,” I say. “You tell me. Where is this going?”