Rei pulled the chair opposite Mr. Monreau and sat down. There was no reservation in her action. Then she looked straight in Mr. Monreau's eyes and spoke—
"I believe you are misinterpreting something in this transaction.
First and foremost, I am your substitute bride, not your subordinate, which puts us on equal footing.
Second, I'm not going to sign a high-class maid contract while I'm forced into this situation.
And third, let's discuss terms because only you don't have conditions; even I do, and the contract needs to reflect both of our needs."
Mr. Monreau visibly stiffened at the lady's outburst. He expected a meek person, but clearly she turned out to be an assertive lady.
While they were processing it all, a waiter knocked lightly and entered to deliver the wines. As he stepped inside, the tension hanging over the table pressed against him like a physical weight. It seemed invisible sparks were flying out. The waiter quickly served the wines and made himself scarce.
Rei took a sip from her wine glass. It carried a light aroma and a fresh, lively, fruit-forward palate, finished with an almost glossy mouthfeel. Overall, it was bright and easy to drink. It must be the Dundee Hills Pinot Noir, she mused to herself.
As she enjoyed her wine, Rei let her gaze drift to the gentleman opposite her. A faint disturbance crossed his composed features.
'So, no one had ever dared to defy him before. The thought amused her. Perhaps the experience would teach him a touch of humility.'
"Then, Ms. Draven, how do you want to proceed?" Mr. Monreau asked.
"Mr. Jeremiah, take notes," she called out.
Jerry nearly stumbled. Brilliant, he thought—now the lady had begun ordering him about as well.
"To protect both of our interests, first we need to draft a contract as equals. "Party A" and "Party B." To protect your finances, write it down in the contract that I get no share of your or the Monreau family's money, including no allowances." She said.
"Are you sure, Ms. Draven?" Mr. Monreau couldn't help but ask to confirm.
"I'm positive," she replied immediately. "Further, write it down that we do not interfere in each other's lives. And are free to pursue actions that do not harm others."
Both gentlemen looked at each other for a brief moment.
"And after a term period of two years, both Party A and Party B will mutually divorce each other." Jerry wanted to interrupt, but Rei shushed him with a finger, "I'm not done yet.
In the case of "Party A" and "Party B," with both their families bringing trouble, consult mutually but do not favor the families or their interests. Self-preservation and interests are a priority."
"Ms. Draven, that's very thorough. I am afraid I didn't think of it in such depth." Mr. Monreau responded in surprise. "Jerry, prepare a fresh contract. See to it that the terms are arranged to Ms. Draven's complete satisfaction."
"Yes, sir," Jerry replied. He muttered softly to himself, "How is this a marriage contract?" It's obviously a divorce agreement."
While Jerry left to prepare a new contract, both of them sipped wine from their respective glasses while looking outside and enjoying the Cambridge view.
Although there was silence, it was not uncomfortable.
"Ms. Draven, are you sure about this marriage? May I ask your reason or reasons?" He inquired.
"Just call me Rei; that's what everyone calls me. To answer your question, I do not want the Dravens to have any influence over me. I am their exiled child. I should remain exiled. I am used to it and the freedom it brings. I don't want to get dragged into the nobility cesspool."
While she spoke, Mr. Monreau looked at her. She looked so fragile in her soft summer dress, but her eyes differed. They held onto mysteries, and these mysteries intrigued him. He now knew that the lady was bold, assertive, and deviant from mainstream upper-class nobility culture. She was not what he expected, but someone with whom he could partner.
For the time being, that is sufficient.
"By the way, you can call me Finn. Mr. Monreau is a mouthful, and I presume the lady will appreciate a shorter form of address." He offered, pouring them each a glass of wine.
A bottle of Gevrey-Chambertin 2018 sat open on his side of the table, its deep ruby glow catching the overhead light. Finn poured them two servings, his movements precise and controlled.
Jerry walked into the room and saw it all. Strangely, he found them harmonious even when they each had different wines and different servings. He cleared his throat and walked in. "I got it all sorted; please look and check for discrepancies one last time." He placed two folders in front of each of them, respectively.
Both of them looked through the amendments and found them agreeable. Watching them agree, he offered pens to both of them. "Please sign."
They signed their respective copy and exchanged the folders to sign in the other. Now they had two copies, signed.
"Sir, should I invite the lawyers and the witnesses?" Jerry asked.
"Yes, go ahead," Mr. Monreau replied.
Jerry walked out, and Rei spoke up, "Why lawyers?"
"Ms. Rei, pardon me, but I need to get married urgently. As you arrived straight from the airport, I presume you have all your essential documents with you. I already arranged for a special marriage license from the Archbishop. So we could marry right now. I hope you have no problem." CEO Finn spoke up. "Frankly, I was not so sure about it, but your forthright attitude sealed the deal. I prefer a partner who is honest over any shenanigans."
Finn took another sip of his wine while he observed Rei from the corner of his eye.
"Mr. Finn, as they say, be wary of what you wish for." She looked him right in the eye and continued, "But I admit, lies are tedious. So let's stick to truths and clarity. To avoid misunderstandings and the subsequent drama."
As if on cue, Jerry entered, followed by two more. They were most probably the lawyer and the witness.
Without further ado, they both signed the documents, and nothing out of the ordinary occurred.
When the pen left the paper, something shifted in the room.
Not magically.
Not romantically.
But undeniably.
A contract was simply a contract.
Yet this one felt different—like the first line of a story neither had agreed to write.
Jerry finally let out the breath he'd been holding.
"Congratulations," he said, too brightly. "You're officially hitched. No fire, no fainting, no bloodshed. I'd call that a tremendous success."
Finn shot him a look.
Rei's lips twitched—just slightly.
She stood, smoothing her dress.
"So," she said, steady and calm, "shall we begin this marriage, Mr. Monreau?"
Finn rose as well.
"We already have, Mrs. Monreau." He whispered.