“Oh, I contribute to the community when I have sex. It’s not just me enjoying the experience.”
“Gag me.”
“With my size, that does tend to happen.”
Once again, I fought the urge to strangle Barrett, or maybe kick him in the balls. Glaring at him, I said, “Is there any way we could add a clause to the contract that says Barrett has to speak to me in a respectful manner that isn’t peppered with immature innuendo?”
“This is who I am, sweetheart. I’m not changing because a contract or you tell me to.” Barrett placed his palms on the table. “So either you kiss the cool million goodbye and walk out of here, or you buckle your seatbelt and enjoy the ride.”
Ugh. He made me sick. I didn’t think I’d ever met a more infuriating and egotistical man.
“Can we please proceed?” Marshall questioned.
“Fine,” I grumbled.
Marshall took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes. He appeared exhausted after just ten minutes of Barrett’s and my bickering. “As for your previous misgivings about this clause, Barrett, it is morally bankrupt of me, but I would suggest that perhaps you find someone to satisfy your needs on the side.”
Oh hell no. “Wow, you’re actually advocating him cheating?” I demanded of Marshall.
“I said it would be morally bankrupt of me.”
“That’s putting it mildly,” I huffed before crossing my arms over my chest.
Marshall adjusted his glasses. “I’m not sure how in the vast scheme of things you could take offense to this when you are about to lie to the entire American public.”
Narrowing my eyes at him, I countered, “I consider what I’m doing to be for the greater good. Even if our relationship isn’t real, I’m not a big fan of being made to look like fool if he’s caught screwing some other woman.”
“Let me finish,” Marshall said. He looked from me to Barrett. “I would add that the entire purpose of having a fiancée is to show your commitment to the bonds of marriage, and as Miss Monroe has suggested, if you were discovered, the media would have a field day of epic proportions. I believe you can also understand how humiliating it would be for Miss Monroe as well.”
Barrett sat in a stunned silence after Marshall’s remarks. I could tell the wheels in his head were spinning, and he didn’t like the inevitable answer that he was about to be forced into celibacy.
“It’s shit like this that makes the evil part of me root for Dad to get defeated on Super Tuesday.”
“Am I to assume your response means you agree to sign off on paragraph two?” Marshall questioned.
Barrett exhaled a painful breath. “Yeah. Whatever.” Asshole.
"Now we come to the appearance clause in paragraph three." Marshall peered at me over his wire-rimmed glasses. "This is more directed you, Miss Monroe."
“Does this outline a specific number of events I will appear at as Barrett's fiancée?" I asked as I turned the page on the contract.
Marshall cleared his throat. "Actually, it is more about your personal appearance, how you'll look along the campaign trail."
"I'm aware Senator Callahan will be providing my clothes."
"It's more about how you'll look in the clothes."
"You have got to be kidding me. You’re that worried about how my ass is going to look in my Donna Karan suit? Shouldn’t you guys be more concerned about Bare keeping his clothes on?"
Barrett grunted. "Jesus. The naked pictures happened three years ago."
"I wasn’t talking about the alleged pictures. I was talking more about the fact that you have a reputation for not being able to keep your pants on. I wouldn’t be here if that wasn’t the case."
Marshall rapped his knuckles on the table to get our attention. "I think you should read the fine print before jumping to conclusions about your attire or Barrett’s, Miss Monroe."
"Fine." I ducked my head to read the one sentence under the appearance clause. I sucked in a horrified breath. "You want me to dye my hair?" I questioned incredulously. Before Marshall could answer, I turned my wrath on Barrett. “You had them put this in, didn’t you?”
“I don’t know how that would be possible considering I just found out about this deranged plan less than an hour ago.”
“It reeks of something you would demand,” I muttered.
"Well, I didn’t.”
“I can’t believe in the vast scheme of things, Senator Callahan would give two shits about my hair’s hue.”
“I guess it made sense to him considering I only date blondes."
"Are you seriously that discriminatory?"
Barrett shrugged. "I just like blondes."
“Don’t you think people who know me are going to find it a little suspect when I suddenly show up blonde?”
“Maybe they’ll think you did it to keep your man happy.”
Groaning, I swept my hands over my eyes. “Please tell me you didn’t just say that.”
“What’s wrong with it?”
“Everything.”
“You’re going to have to be a little more specific.”
“Okay, how’s this: it’s sexist and outdated. The very idea that any woman would do something just to make their man happy is ridiculous. Like you couldn’t be happy with me as a brunette.”