The Proposal

Alexander's POV

"All of the hair oil looks the same, Anna; I have no idea what you are talking about," Alexander told his cousin, frustrated.

"The one with the rose... Anna I'm not looking for hair oil with rosemary... I'm not going to ask a staff member either. I'm just going to get...hold on, Matt is calling. I'll talk to you in a bit. I'll get any; bye, Anna." He hung up and rolled his eyes.

He had come to get a few things, and his cousin asked him to get hair oil with rosemary—whatever that is in it.

"Hey bro, what's up?" He picked up his best friend's call.

"Look, Matt, I don't think I have energy for this fake marriage stuff. Yes, yes, I know it's been two weeks already, but man, I can't. Where am I even going to see someone? Of course you'll be able to find someone." He was speaking when he began to smell a familiar vanilla fragrance. One hadn't been able to get off his head for the last two weeks.

"Matt, Matt, I'll call you back," he hung up without even hearing what the other man had to say. He turned to see the mystery woman, a little in front of him on a different aisle. She was on what seemed to be a heated phone call. He moved closer a bit to see if he could hear her.

"I don't... I just lost my job, and I need to save any penny I can. Could you just keep her there for a bit pending the time I'll get one? Yes, yes, I know, but I really...okay, okay, I'll see what I can do." She hung up and began to cry. He wasn't sure what to do—if he was supposed to just leave or try and help her.

He found himself going closer; he wasn't sure he could leave even if he wanted to. Her tears provoked a very dangerous emotion in him. He wanted to destroy everything that made her cry. 

He tapped her back slightly, which made her jump startled.

"Oh, sorry, you scared me. I didn't see you there," she said, wiping her eyes. Her voice was trembling slightly. "Wait, it's you. The guy from the club. Anabelle Corelli's cousin?"

"The one and only," he confirmed, although being referred to as 'the guy' or 'Anabelle's cousin' was extremely surprising. He's used to people immediately knowing who he is. 

"Are you okay?" He asked, concerned; she still had a drop of tear on the side of her eyes, and it took him all the self-contraint he could conjure not to wipe it away.

"Um, yeah, yeah, I'm fine, just a little problem. Nothing can't be fixed. I was just a little overwhelmed, hence the tears." 

He didn't believe a word that came out of her mouth; not only was she a terrible liar, but the conversation he heard didn't sound little at all.

"Are you sure? If you tell me what's wrong, who knows, I could be of help," he said. 

"No, it's fine, really. Why would you want to help me anyway? You don't know me," she countered, and he could see that she wasn't willing to budge.

He knew she was having money troubles, but he also figured that she wasn't one to willingly accept help. Just at that moment, a crazy idea popped into my head.

"Okay, look, I know I wasn't supposed to, but I might have listened to and overheard your conversation on the phone." He didn't finish his sentence before she interrupted.

"You were eavesdropping on my conversation? That is so wro." It was his turn to interrupt.

"An eavesdrop for an eavesdrop?" She rolled her eyes but gestured for him to go on.

"Anyway, as I was saying, I heard your conversation on the phone, and I know you need money. I have money—more than I can spend in a lifetime, honestly. So_" She interrupted again. 

"I don't want your money. I'm not a charity." He held his hand up to let him finish.

"As I was saying before being interrupted again," he rolled his eyes. "I have what you need, and I want something from you. So we could strike a deal." She narrowed her eyes suspiciously

"A deal? What kind of deal?" She asked, but he just waved his hands in the air and brushed her off.

"We'll talk about that soon enough, but first, are you done with your shopping?" He asked, pointing at her shopping cart. She just nodded.

"Great, off to the checkpoint. Wait, do you know hair oils that have rosemary in them?" He asked, remembering Annabelle. She went back to the aisle he was coming from and gave him a bottle.

"Thanks; we can go now. Also, it's Alexander," he introduced.

"Stephanie" was all she said. Stephanie. He was immediately convinced that he hadn't heard a more beautiful name. 

They went to the check-out, and he went to pay for their stuff.

"I can pay for my own," she started to protest.

"I never said you couldn't; just let me." She sighed, resigned, and didn't say anything on it again.

Alexander paid for their stuff and took it outside.

"Did you come with a car or..." he asked when they got outside. 

"No, I'll order an Uber," she said, reaching to collect her shopping bags.

"Or..." he started, taking them away from her reach. "I could take you home, and we could discuss the proposal on the way there." He could see her starting to protest, then something changed in her head, and she simply said

"Okay," he said, leading them to his car and asking her for her house address. She typed it into his GPS, and they were off.

They drove in silence for a while before she finally spoke.

"So, what's the deal?" She stared at him. He glanced back at her briefly before facing the road.

"Remember the conversation you heard the other day between my friend and me in the club?" he asked, and she nodded. "Well, long story short, my grandfather is dying soon, and he needs me to get married before he does, which is in two months, or I don't get the company he's been training me my whole life to take over."

"wait what? That seems rather extreme," she said after taking a moment to process what he said. 

"It is, but it's what he wants, and one thing about my grandfather. He always does as he says. I have no use for love, so finding a bride has proved to be very difficult. So, I've decided to fake a marriage just for as long as it takes. About six months, and that is where you come in."

"I don't understand, you mean...?"

"Yes, Stephanie, I'd like for you to be my fake bride. In return, you get compensated heavily. A hundred and fifty thousand dollars before the wedding and a $100,000 after the divorce. During the marriage, you'll also get whatever you want without fail." Her eyes opened wide; it was almost as if they'd pop out of their sockets. "That isn't all; I'll get you into all the top runaway shows and further your modeling career," he finished, and just at that moment, they pulled up to her apartment building.

"What I can't. This seems like a lot, but I really can't." She took her bags and ran from his car.

"Wait, don't turn it down yet; here's my card. Think about it and call me when you've reached a decision." She collected it and ran into her apartment.

He sighed and then headed home.