A Fresh Start

Grace, still puzzled, nodded.

“Rachel is right. Now, with social media, if you want to be the kind of writer who does more than four books in a lifetime, you will need promotion for sales. I know that your sales sometimes dip a bit if there’s competition. It isn’t because your books aren’t the best out there. It’s because of visibility.”

Alan nodded, pleased.

“I knew I was right about you being intelligent and quick on the uptake. You’re also personable and extremely likable, but not, and I do hope you take this as a compliment, perfect enough to be intimidating or to be difficult to relate to. Rachel has given me a pretty unconventional option to avoid too many public events.”

That unsettling feeling in the pit of her stomach made a sudden reappearance.

“So far, Rachel has handled a lot of my public appearances alone. But I need a… well, let’s say, a more personal representative. I think you would be the perfect person to do that job.”

Grace was nonplussed. Had all of this been a job interview?

“I’m not sure what you mean, Alan. I didn’t think this was a job interview. I mean, I thought it was a date.”

Alan nodded.

“Yes, that would be more appropriate,” he said, to her mystification.

“Now what I propose is this,” he went on. “I will make sure that your manuscript reaches the best editors in the industry, and give you every chance to get published. I will also pay you a generous stipend, and your accommodation and all needs will also be taken care of. In return, I need you to work for me, exclusively – as my wife.”

Grace nearly spat out her wine.

“Your what?”

She couldn’t have heard clearly, could she?

“An employee will not present the kind of connection with me that will let me out of personal appearances. But a wife would be different. If you were my wife, you could take center stage while I could stay in the background and write. Of course, since I don’t want any negative publicity, it would mean that you’d have to maintain fidelity within the marriage. I would have to do the same. A pre-nup will be signed, and it will make sure that you will get… Well, let’s call it a very lucrative severance package if the arrangement doesn’t work out. What do you think?”

Grace hadn’t quite got past the ‘wife’ bit.

“You’re asking me to marry you?” she asked incredulously.

“I quite realize it’s a very unconventional request, Grace,” said Alan smoothly. “But I’m an unconventional man. I would not insist on – I wouldn’t even expect – us to be intimate. I would want us to be companionable, have conversations, and you would be, for all intents and purposes, my public face.”

He sat back, as if he hadn’t made the most extraordinary offer Grace had ever gotten in her life, and she’d gotten a few odd ones.

“I… I don’t know what to say. I thought this was a regular date.”

Alan nodded.

“Yes, I can see how you might consider the way I arranged this to be deceitful. But it is an uncommon offer, and I needed to be sure that you would be right for it. I believe that nobody could be more perfect. I like you, Grace, and you’re a good person. Of course, there will be legal protection for both of us, but I will trust you with a lot of things. I know you will need time to think this over, of course. That’s to be expected. But I hope, once you get over the shock of it, you will consider it rationally and see that it isn’t so odd, after all.”

And Alan Barden went back to eating his dessert as if they’d had a nice, amicable conversation about who the next president should be.

Grace grabbed her wine glass, which had thankfully been refilled, and swallowed it in a gulp. She hadn’t the slightest clue what to say.

She had come to dinner with all kinds of romantic delusions. What a fool she’d been! She should throw the offer back in his face and stalk off.

And yet… And yet, would the offer be that bad?

She needed to think.

She needed her mama.

*****

Grace couldn’t for the life of her remember how the rest of the evening had gone. There hadn’t been much talking. Alan had looked like he was exhausted, from all the talking and wanted to be elsewhere. Grace had wanted to get up and leave, but she hadn’t been able to make her legs function for a while.

Apparently, having a bombshell dropped on you could do that.

Now she was back home and needed to think.

Well, thought Grace, her fantasies had been dashed pretty quickly. In an odd way, it had been what she’d dreamed of – being swept away into his life, living happily ever after. But what a twisted version of the happily ever after!

She shouldn’t even consider it. She shouldn’t.

But…

Well, if she looked at it as a job, it was enticing. If you took the marriage part of it out of the equation, she would’ve jumped at the offer. It would be a far better avenue for her ambitions than the apparently dead-end job she was stuck in, where she was expected to do all the grunt work and rarely got any credit at all.

She would, in essence, be being Alan Barden’s public representative and private companion. It was a good job.

But marriage – it included marriage!

Grace had been raised by a single mother who was very practical, but had still found time to give Grace her romantic fantasies. Every child should have the ideal of a loving partnership and confidante for life to look forward to. Violet had never had that.

Marriage was important. It might, legally, be just a contract. But for her, it was a vow and a pact. Making that vow for ambition and convenience seemed like a desecration of everything marriage stood for.

And yet…

Well, and yet, it would be a splendid opportunity if she took emotions out of it. She wouldn’t be able to date anybody else, but that didn’t seem like much of a sacrifice. The last few dates Grace had been on had made her want to give up on men and dating altogether anyway.

Besides, despite how the evening had gone, Grace couldn’t quite believe that there had been no connection between them. Even if the offer had been so cold-blooded, would a man make an offer like that to somebody if he hadn’t felt a connection? Marriage was marriage, after all.

Grace felt ashamed of herself, suddenly. She was numb with shock, but she was still considering the humiliating offer. There was no denying that. She couldn’t believe how low she had stooped, to even think about accepting it.

She needed some perspective, she realized. There was only one place to get it. It was late, but it was never too late to turn up on your mama’s doorstep.

When everything was all confused, and she needed some common sense, there was no better person to turn to than Violet. Resolute, Grace picked up her phone and dialed.

If Violet had a gentleman caller, it was too damn bad, because Grace needed her.

Half an hour later, Grace was curled up in bed with Violet, sipping hot chocolate, which was Violet’s panacea, and with good reason.

“I don’t know what to do, Mama,” said Grace, her head on Violet’s head.

“Well now, tell me what it’s all about.”

Grace took a deep breath. It was very like Violet not to go into any of it before they were completely comfortable. It took Grace back to her junior high when she’d liked a boy who had told her that she was too fat for him.

It could’ve scarred her for life. It could’ve given her body image issues that would’ve made her cringe every time she caught a look at her reflection.

But it hadn’t, because Violet had tucked her into bed with hot chocolate and told her that she was beautiful. She hadn’t just told Grace that it wasn’t just appearances that mattered. She had shown Grace that Grace was beautiful.