He chuckles as though this is all oh so amusing.
“And now this rivalry is coming to an end.”
Francis completely misses the sarcasm in my voice. “Well, yes, that’s the part of the arrangement. If news gets out that Muffy and I are an item—of sorts,” he adds quickly. “Then share price would go up for Hickenbatter, not to mention the publicity it would mean for both our companies. It’s all a bit complicated with shareholders and stocks and dividends and such.”
“I know how securities work, Francis,” I say in an irritated voice. I’m annoyed by the look of surprised admiration on his face. “I just don’t understand why your companies can’t simply sign a contract like most businesses do.”
Francis’ expression turns more somber.
“Well, there’s the matter of her grandfather. He’s nearly on death’s door, maybe a few weeks left. He’d like to see Muffy settled down with the right sort of man, or at least on the way there. If he’s happy, he leaves everything to her. Once he’s gone, we’ll be able to drop this ruse.”
“Why does it have to be you? I’m sure there are plenty of other ‘right sorts of men’ she could settle down with. Men that she wouldn’t have to participate in a ruse with. Men who aren’t already taken,” I add in an even testier voice.
He fiddles with the glass of old fashioned again, even more agitated.
I feel my heart begin to beat a bit faster, knowing something heavy is about to drop. If there’s one thing Francis hates, it’s confrontation. We hardly ever fight because he’d rather let me have my way, distracting me with some expensive bauble instead of an argument. I now realize what an unfortunate trait that is in a man.
“There’s also the matter of my mother,” he finally confesses.
“Your mother? Does she not approve of me?” I ask, truly astonished. I’ve met Francis’ mother and, in her very own words, she found me “so charming.”
“My mother adores you, Honey. You know this. But she also understands business and we all want the Hickenbatter corporation to continue on for generations. By giving our shareholders the idea that the future head of the company is involved with a woman who is more…”
I wait, getting more and more indignant as he lets that sentence drop without closure. “A woman who is more what? Appropriate? Sophisticated? Wealthy? Serious? Worthy?”
“A woman who is a future head of business herself,” he corrects, planting an ingratiating smile on his face. I just find it irritating. “But again, Honey, this is all for appearances. Even my mother understands this.”
“She does? So she knows you and this Muffy are just pretending to date?” I give him a hard look to read him for the truth.
“Of course. She knows you’re mine, Honey,” he says with such sincerity that I honestly believe it.
That doesn’t mean I’m not a little devastated.
My eyes fall to the glass of champagne. I pick it up and take a long sip. No sense in it going to waste.
“Couldn’t you have at least waited until after Valentine’s Day?” I ask after swallowing.
Although, now that I think about it, that might have been worse.
“We need to jump on this as soon as possible. As I stated, her grandfather doesn’t have much time, and we want to get as much going before the end of the fiscal quarter. A bump in both share price and dividend payout would work wonders for the company.”
It all sounds a bit mercenary if you ask me. Taking advantage of a dying grandfather and focusing solely on share price and dividends.
Especially at the expense of a relationship.
One I thought was about to become permanent.
“Is something wrong with your family business?” That would certainly explain the urgency and, frankly, craziness of this whole thing. I’d feel a bit better knowing that this was some kind of Hail Mary rather than…the alternative.
“Everything is fine, Honey,” he says, now taking a long sip of his drink. “The point is, I’d like to keep it that way.”
A broad, confident smile comes to his face, no doubt meant to reassure me. Little does he know, it only makes my heart sink.
“So, why the need for this…ruse?”
“Honey,” he says, reaching out for my hand. “You are the one for me. Muffy means nothing. I doubt we’ll so much as hold hands in public. She understands where my affections are. Come Valentine’s Day, you’re the one who going to…be mine.” His smile widens in hopes that the little joke isn’t lost on me.
I force a smile to my face, even though I’m perfectly cognizant of the fact that he hasn’t directly answered my question.
“I just won’t be able to celebrate it with you. In public.”
My smile disappears.
I snatch my hand from out of his and place it in my lap.
“What’s the problem?” he asks with an impatient frown.
“I’m allowed to not like this, Francis. I suppose I just feel like…now, I’m your dirty little secret.”
“Honey, you are most certainly not my dirty little secret,” he says in such an insistent tone, I feel a little buoyed by it. “Aren’t we here in public having lunch?”
“So you could, for all intents and purposes, break up with me.”
“This is not a break-up, it’s…a temporary break. Only in public,” he assures me. “Privately, you’re the only woman for me. With Muffy, I swear it will be nothing more than the occasional photo op, attendance at some boring gala or charity event, giving the press what they want.”
“I still don’t like it.”
“I don’t like it either. Trust me, I’d rather have you by my side, someone I actually want to kiss and hold. Remember the UNICEF Masquerade Ball?”
A reluctant smile comes to my face. It was one of the most exciting events
