Chapter Seven #2
It’s not a bad idea, though, and we agree to a date the following day at seven at a restaurant on the waterfront. I promise to book it and leave the room, hearing them laughing as I walk down the corridor.
*
As it gets near to five, I walk the short distance to Whenua Law.
The firm is on Victoria Street West, not far from the Sky Tower.
It’s a fine afternoon, the bright sun bouncing off metal and glass, although there’s a coolness in the air that confirms we’re well into autumn, which is confirmed by the orange and purple leaves falling from the occasional sweetgum tree.
I bet Chessie knows the Latin name for them, I think as I cross the road and go through the double doors into the building.
I’d hoped to get here before her, but as I walk into reception, I see her sitting on the visitor chairs to one side.
Nearby, a female lawyer helps herself to some water from the cooler, while another is talking to the receptionist—they’re both wearing dark suits with crisp white blouses and high heels.
One has a neat bob, the other has long straightened hair, and they’re both wearing lots of makeup.
Chessie looks incongruous in black trousers with Converses, and an oversized bright pink shirt that oddly goes well with her red hair, which is in a scruffy bun.
She stands as she sees me, and I walk up to her.
She still reminds me of some kind of Greek nymph. Man, she’s small. Apart from her boobs.
“Hello,” I say, and smile.
She scratches her head and looks up at me nervously. “When does it start?”
“The meeting? At five.”
“No, the engagement. I mean, I wasn’t sure how to greet you.” She glances at the receptionist and the lawyers.
My lips curve up. “I’m more than happy to smooch, if that’s what you’re asking.”
She gives me a wry look. “That wasn’t what I was asking. I’m just saying, if we were engaged, we wouldn’t just say hello.”
“What would be an acceptable greeting, do you think?”
“I don’t know, I’ve never been engaged before.”
“Neither have I, as it happens. So… a hug?”
“Possibly.”
“Come here, then.” I bend, slide my arms around her, and lift her up. She squeals and laughs, then wraps her arms around my neck and hugs me.
I bury my nose in her neck and inhale. She smells of the outdoors, of fresh air and flowers and mown grass. Her breasts are soft against my chest. I like how she’s so small in my arms.
“Kingi,” she says, “you can put me down now.”
I lower her so her feet touch the floor, then see she’s looking to her left and follow her gaze. The women at reception are smiling at us.
“Sorry,” I say to them. “I got carried away.”
“Nah,” the lawyer says, “it’s sweet as. Nice to see.” She chuckles.
I look at Chessie. She’s blushing.
“Kingi!” It’s Tane, and he walks toward us with a smile.
“Tēnā koe, e Kingi, kei te pēhea koe?” It means ‘Greetings to you, Kingi, how are you?’ We shake hands, and then we lean forward and solemnly press noses and foreheads together in a hongi or traditional greeting.
“Sorry to keep you waiting,” he says. “I was caught on a phone call.” He turns to the woman waiting at my side.
“You must be Francesca.” He holds his hand out to her.
“Everyone calls me Chessie,” she says shyly, and shakes it.
“It’s very nice to meet you, Chessie. Come down to the meeting room, you two. Would you like a coffee?”
“I’m okay, thanks,” Chessie says, “I’ve just had one.”
“I’m fine, too,” I tell him, and he nods and leads the way.
We enter the meeting room, which is just a small square room with a circular table surrounded by four chairs. A closed manila folder rests on the table, along with a jug of water and three glasses.
He closes the door, and we all sit. He’s in his fifties, with gray curly hair.
He’s an old friend of my father’s, and I’ve known him since I was a kid, so even though Orson and I use another firm for our company’s legal business, I’m more than happy to ask him to help out.
He’s more like an uncle, and he’s often outspoken and doesn’t usually hold back from speaking his mind.
I half expected him to tell me this was a dumb idea, but so far he’s kept his thoughts to himself.
“So,” Tane says, “Kingi has informed me of your agreement, and has suggested that it makes sense to draw up a contract to clarify some issues and make sure you’re both on the same page.”
Chessie nods. “I understand.”
“This is our first draft.” Tane extracts the document from the manila folder and slides it across to Chessie.
I sit back and wait for her to read it. It’s a cross between a prenuptial contract and a services contract.
The first half includes a list of clauses: a clear finish line of December 31st; the financial settlement of a hundred thousand dollars, and a stipulation that she has no further claim to my assets, shares, or company holdings after the agreement ends, and I have no claim to hers; a confidentiality clause that neither of us can disclose the true nature of our agreement—if she were to breach it, it might incur repayment of the financial settlement, whereas if I were to breach it, she would be able to keep the money; a conduct clause stating we both agree to behave respectably to support the image of stability—basically making it clear that neither of us can date anyone else; and that she waives any rights a legal spouse/fiancée might have.
“What rights would they be?” she asks, pointing to the clause.
“You would have no claim to alimony, inheritance, or property,” Tane says.
“Of course,” she says. She glances at me, her expression puzzled. “I’d never do anything like that.”
“Kingi asked me to include what I thought was necessary,” Tane says smoothly.
He’s lying—I asked him to make sure she would have no claim to any of my finances. I don’t think she’d ever try to fleece me, but some women would, and I thought it was better to be safe than sorry. He’s covering for me. That’s nice of him.
“Um… about the confidentiality clause,” she says. “I’m so sorry, I’ve already told the two women I live with. But I won’t tell anyone else, I promise.”
“It’s okay, I’ve told Orson and Scarlett,” I point out.
“I’ll add those exceptions to the contract,” Tane says, opening his laptop and then typing in. “What about your families? Are you going to tell them?”
“I won’t,” Chessie says. “I don’t want them to know. As far as they’re concerned, this is genuine.”
“I won’t say anything either,” I reply. “The less people who know, the better.”
“What about your father?” she asks.
“He won’t be a problem.” I’m not going to give him a chance to argue.
She looks doubtful, but turns her gaze back at the contract. The second half contains some performance guidelines.
“Appearance Quotas,” she reads out loud. “Ms. Ross must accompany Mr. Davis to at least twelve public functions.” She looks up. “Twelve? Eek!”
“We have to be seen in public, Chess. That’s the whole point.”
“I guess… but twelve!”
“Over six months? That’s only two a month.”
She looks pained. “Please don’t make me be sociable.”
I chuckle. “I’m afraid I can’t move on that. It’s the whole point of the bargain.”
“I suppose.” She narrows her eyes. “All right.” She looks back at the contract. “An Affection Clause? ‘Displays of affection should be natural but appropriate?’” She looks at Tane. “You want me to sign a contract that says I’ll kiss him naturally? Who decides whether or not a kiss is natural?”
“I’ll take it upon myself to ensure authenticity,” I tell her.
“I’m not kissing you,” she states.
I frown. “Is the thought so abhorrent?”
She ignores me and glares at Tane. “I’d like that clause taken out.”
He concentrates on pouring us a glass of water each.
“No,” I say. “Come on, we can’t be engaged and not kiss.”
“We’ll just say I’m shy.”
“There will need to be kissing,” I say firmly. “We can include a clause that says no tongues if you like.”
Tane coughs into his glass, and I chuckle.
Chessie groans. “This is a nightmare.” She looks back at the contract. “What’s this about expense coverage? What does that mean?”
“For appropriate clothing and accessories,” Tane confirms.
“For ‘appropriate’ clothes? This really is Pretty Woman, isn’t it?”
I frown. “You’re insulted because I want to give you more money?”
“Because you want to tell me what to wear. I have my own wardrobe, thank you very much.”
“We’ll be going to some upmarket events.” My voice holds a touch of sarcasm. She’s indignant because I want to give her a clothing budget? Most women would kill for that. “Ten-year-old jeans, Alien T-shirts, and gumboots won’t pass muster, I’m afraid.”
She glares at me. I glare back.
Tane clears his throat. “Can I be honest with you both?”
She turns her laser gaze on him. “Please do.”
“I’ve known Kingi a long time,” he says.
“I can honestly say this is the most hare-brained scheme he’s ever come up with, and that’s saying something.
A hundred thousand isn’t nearly enough to justify spending six months with this roro hūrepo.
” It literally means ‘brains of mud.’ He’s calling me an idiot.
“So I’d recommend taking as much money as he’s offering and crossing your fingers that the next six months go extremely fast.”
Chessie stares at him, then bursts out laughing.
“Thanks,” I say to him.
“Don’t mention it.” He taps the contract. “What you’ve agreed to do here, Ms. Ross—helping Kingi to look respectable so he can get the position on the board—is very admirable.”
“It’s not that admirable,” she mumbles. “I’m doing it for the money.”
“I appreciate that, but he told me he offered you the money, and you refused unless he received something in response. That’s very unusual in this day and age.
Not everyone would have been so honorable.
So I’ve made it airtight, to protect you.
Kingi has to behave, and if he doesn’t, you get to keep the money. ”
“You remember that you work for me?” I say indignantly.
“You’ve never been able to keep it in your pants,” he says. “But you’re a good lad, and I think you’ll be a great benefit for the Foundation. So I’m just offering my advice. Also, it’s why I’ve included the last clause.”
“I thought that was the last clause,” I say. He forwarded me the contract earlier, and I read through it closely.
Chessie reads out the additional few sentences he’s added.
“The Parties acknowledge that this Agreement is entered into solely for the purpose of maintaining public appearances and enhancing the reputation of Mr. Davis. Accordingly, Mr. Davis shall, for the duration of this Agreement, exercise self-control befitting a gentleman and refrain from engaging in any physical intimacy, romantic advances, or otherwise inappropriate conduct (collectively, “Prohibited Conduct”) toward Ms. Ross. Any breach of this clause shall constitute a material breach of contract, entitling Ms. Ross to immediate termination of the Agreement and to seek such remedies as may be available at law or in equity.”
“What?” I glare at Tane. “That’s harsh. You make it sound like I can’t control myself.”
“It’s for Chessie’s benefit,” he states. “I know what you’re like.”
“Does this mean I need a lawyer present every time I look at her?”
He just gives me a sardonic look. I glance at Chessie. She’s trying not to laugh.
“I appreciate you looking out for me,” she says to Tane. “And I think it’s good to be clear where we both stand. Okay, pass me the pen.”
“You’re going to sign?” I ask her, astonished.
“I’ll sign,” she says. “God help me. I really need the money.”
Tane makes the changes on his laptop, prints it out, and goes to get the new copy.
“You’re sure about this?” I ask her once he’s left the room.
She nods. “I admit that, at first, I was a bit hurt that you felt the need to make it legal like this. But I can see how it protects us both, and I appreciate that.”
I feel a surge of fondness for her. Her big green eyes are wide and clear. There’s something innocent and naive about her that I find very appealing, and I don’t want her to get hurt. “All joking aside, I am very grateful for this,” I tell her gently. “It means a lot to me.”
“And to me, Kingi. Playing at being a rich guy’s fiancée is a small price to pay for so much money.”
“I’m glad I could help. I just hope that Mark appreciates what you’re doing for him.”
She scratches at a mark on the table. “I know it could be seen as enabling him. But I can’t keep doing it.
It’s destroying me. I’ve already decided, I’m going to make it clear that it’s the last time.
After this, he’s on his own, and if Dad wants to bail him out and lose his house, that’s up to him. I’m not getting involved.”
Her eyes glisten. I can see how it’s going to kill her to tell them that, but I’m so glad she isn’t going to keep throwing herself under the bus.
“It’ll be okay,” I murmur. “I’m sure Mark will come to his senses when he realizes he’s on his own.
” Privately, I’m not so sure. An addict can’t just stop.
He needs professional help, and often only reaching the bottom will force them to ask for it.
But my main concern is Chessie, and if I can help her right now, that’s what’s important.
“I hope so. This… what we’re doing… A lot of my hesitation was because I don’t want it to go wrong. I don’t want to lose you as a friend.”
Puzzled, I reach out and covered her hand with mine. “Why would you?”
She turns her hand over, and our fingers close around each other.
“Don’t break my heart,” she says.
Just make sure you add a force majeure for broken hearts.
I’m not going to break her heart.
I didn’t mean her.
“It’ll be fun,” I say firmly. “That’s all. It’ll be nice to have a companion for a while. The last clause will stop any… prohibited conduct. The main thing is that we communicate well, and everything will be fine.”
Her eyes meet mine, and there’s something in them that makes the hairs rise on the back of my neck. She opens her mouth to say something… but at that moment, Tane comes back into the room with the new copy of the contract, and the moment passes.
“Here you go,” he says cheerfully. “Time to sign away your sanity.”
I resist the urge to give him the finger, pick up the pen, and grumble about wishing people would keep their opinions to themselves as I sign at the bottom.