10. Organism Reproduction #2
Not to mention the possible value of this opportunity for me—and my inconvenient attraction problem—personally.
Hadn’t I always said, attraction fades fastest with either no exposure or too much exposure?
Moving in here, seeing Andreas daily and witnessing all his gross habits, because everyone had gross habits, would certainly cure my attraction to him.
Yes, moving in together was a good idea for many reasons.
“Where would we live? Here?” I glanced around, spotting a hallway behind me, then looked back at him just in time to catch his eyes widen slightly.
“You ... agree?” He sounded surprised.
“Sure. Your reasoning makes sense. How many bedrooms do you have here?”
“I have three bedrooms. You may take whichever you want.”
I squinted at him. “Even the main bedroom?”
He arched an eyebrow, the first real sign of amusement I’d seen since I’d arrived. “If you wish.”
Leaning back in my seat, I studied him and his request. Certainly, exposure to Andreas never putting the toilet seat down or cleaning up after himself would solve my attraction problem quite nicely.
Or, conversely, maybe he was an anal-retentive control freak and couldn’t handle a pair of socks on the ground for five minutes.
Either would suit me just fine. Then my brain and my body could friend-zone him with no issue.
Logistically, however, moving in here would be complicated. What about my roommates? I couldn’t simply leave without finding my replacement. And would I still pay rent in the meantime? What happened when people discovered he’d adopted me? This felt messy.
I must’ve taken too long to reply because Andreas leaned forward and placed his elbows on the table, asking, “What worries you?”
“I think it would be wise for us to define our concerns and conditions now. In fact, what if we both made a list, about the adoption and the fake-fiancé arrangement?”
“That is agreeable, as long as we set a goal to have everything finalized within three days.”
“Why three days?”
He tapped his fingers on the table, a movement that looked absentminded. “I have been alerted my father’s will might be shared with my brothers next week.”
“Might be?”
Andreas dipped his chin. “My contact did not provide any other details. Only that we need to move quickly, if we are going to do this.”
“Okay, then. No time like the present.” Flipping over the cover letter, I picked up the pen and began writing. “I’ll jot down my immediate concerns and conditions now. You should get a piece of paper and do the same.”
He made a small sound that could’ve been a laugh or a sigh, but then stood and left the table, only to return a moment later with his own pen and paper.
My list was already quite long:
1) Giving my roommates notice before breaking my rental agreement with them (I still have 8 months).
2) I have to find my own replacement for Diya/don’t want to leave her hanging.
3) How much is rent on this place?? Can’t afford rent on two apartments. Need breakdown of rent, utilities, etc. for this apartment.
4) How public to go with fake-fiancé agreement? Public PDA as evidence of smoke screen? How much? Rules around PDA seem like a good idea. Related, see number 5.
5) Won’t it be weird for you when people find out you’ve adopted me but we’ve been acting like we’re dating? How’s that going to work for your image? Hire a PR firm?
6) Your brother threatening me: If I eventually lose my funding, I might not be able to pay rent here. Need plan for this.
7) Rules for the apartment? Bringing people over? Cleaning duties? Can I have shelves in the fridge and pantry? What rooms can I use?
8) What are you like to live with? Do I need to be quiet during certain hours? What do I need to know about being your roommate?
Reading back over the list, I frowned, because a very obvious thing was missing. Deciding that we were both adults and it would be better to spell things out and be honest than hope everything just magically worked out, I added:
9) No physical contact unless it’s in public and only for the purposes of reinforcing the claim that we’re engaged. No avoidable contact in the apartment at all and ? —
“That many?”
Andreas’s question pulled my attention away from the list and I glanced at his paper, which—from where I sat—only appeared to have three items.
Setting my pen down, I slid my paper toward him. “This is as many as I can think of right now. I like to have everything clearly spelled out before making a decision. Setting realistic expectations from the beginning will save frustration and disappointment later.”
“Are you expecting me to disappoint you, Samantha?” His eyebrow raised slightly. He also slid his paper toward me while accepting my list.
I picked up his paper, not caring how my cleavage pressed against the neckline of my dress—or how his eyes darted to my chest then quickly away—as I reached forward with my fingertips.
He needed to get used to me being in his space in various states of clothed. Roommates had to deal with that kind of stuff.
“I am not expecting you to disappointment me, Andreas. Not if we set realistic expectations.”
His eyes narrowed marginally, then shifted to my list.
I glanced at his. He hadn’t numbered it.
Samantha moves in with Andreas.
Samantha will have one or more bodyguards.
Samantha will not speak to the press about Andreas; Andreas will not speak to the press about Samantha.
My mouth dropped open at the second item. “Excuse me? A bodyguard?”
Andreas lifted just his eyes and stared at me with a bleak sort of intensity.
“You underestimate my brothers. Tobias is ruthless, but he prefers psychological warfare. Henrik is unpredictable and often resorts to physical violence. If we are to publicly pretend that we are a couple, you will become a target. I do not want your safety to be jeopardized.”
I inspected him, endeavoring to parse whether he believed a guard was truly necessary.
Before I could push the issue, he shook his head. “This is nonnegotiable.”
Letting his succinct list fall to the table, I sat back and crossed my arms. “Then I have a counteroffer.”
He watched me, waiting.
“The guard can follow me home from work, or be nearby if I’m out at night, but they can’t come into my office, my lab, or anywhere else on campus. For one thing, it would be incredibly awkward, and for another, they don’t have the necessary clearance or training to enter the lab.”
He considered, then nodded. “Acceptable.”
Frowning, I gave him a single nod. “Fine. Bodyguard is approved. But then”—I reached forward, my palm up—“I need to add more to my list.”
He gave me one slow blink. “Just tell me. I will write it for you.”
“Who will pay for the bodyguard?”
Andreas seemed to contemplate me for a long moment before setting down my paper.
“I propose, for all the expense-related items, we split the cost of everything—lawyers’ fees, living expenses, bodyguard, and so forth—fifty-fifty, after you inherit Genetix.
For now, I will shoulder all financial burdens. ”
I turned my head slightly to the side and examined him. “What if our plan fails and I don’t inherit?”
“Then I will accept the financial fallout and cover the cost of everything.”
“Why would you?” As I asked the question, I wondered again how this arrangement benefited Andreas.
Why approach me at all? Was this actually about correcting an injustice?
If so, then wouldn’t it make more sense for me to cover all the expenses should we succeed rather than split everything fifty-fifty?
“This is my idea, all of it. And I approached you. Of course I should be the one to take the financial responsibility.” He said this like it was the most obvious thing in the world.
Still, it didn’t sit right.
“Tell me something, Andreas.”
A pause while he stared at me in solemn silence, then, “Anything.” He sounded entirely sincere, his tender tone completely at odds with the mask of boredom donning his features.
“Why? Why are you doing this? What are you getting out of it? You say you’re going to take financial responsibility, but why?
As I’ve spelled out on my list of concerns, won’t this whole thing make bad press for you when it comes to light?
The woman you’ve been pretending to date is actually your adopted daughter? That sounds like a scandal.”
As I spoke, his gaze grew more distant, reserved. But when I said the word daughter he made a face of distaste. “You will not be my ‘daughter.’”
“In the eyes of the law, I will be. It says you and I will treat each other like natural?—”
“In the eyes of the law, you will be my direct inheritor and the first grandchild of Oskar Kristiansen.” He spoke over me.
“Okay, fine. Semantics. But you still haven’t answered my question.
” I pressed my index finger against the first page of the adoption packet.
“Why bother doing this at all? Why reach out to me after fifteen years? Why not ask a woman you fancy to make a baby with you, then let your real child inherit?”
“Did I not—” he began, but then clamped his mouth shut and exhaled through his nose, his stare mutating into a glare.
After a few more rises and falls of his chest, he spoke.
“It should go without saying, what my family did to you and your parents was reprehensible. My father literally stole everything from your family. Genetix should be yours. How could I live with myself if I let this opportunity pass by? Isn’t that reason enough? ”
Biting the inside of my lower lip, I scrutinized the remoteness of his expression and the coolness of his words, which all seemed to support my previous hypothesis: Andreas was doing this because he cared about justice, and approaching me was merely about righting a past wrong.
Granted, it was a big fucking past wrong.