He sighs and stands up straight, folding his arms across his chest. Oh no, he's going on the defensive. "I like it better this way, they know what I expect from them and they know what I can provide them with." His tone is flat, and it's bullshit. It's complete and utter bullshit. He's trying to convince me that all of this is just so everyone involved has all their cards on the table, out in the open. He pays women to follow his rules and he gives them money. I start to shake my head. My glass of wine has given me some confidence out of the blue and I have to use it before it slips away.
"So what do you expect from me then?" I don't know quite the answer I am expecting to get out of him. He leans his head down to meet my eye level.
"I expect for you to behave according to the rules in the contract," he replies sternly, but I'm not backing down.
"Don't you see that it doesn't make sense to have such intense rules in an actual relationship."
"Well, good thing this isn't an actual relationship then." His snarky remark hits me hard in the chest, the quickness of the reply cutting me like a knife. I will not cry in front of him, I will not give him that satisfaction. This is probably the end of the line for us, he doesn't seem to like being challenged on his motives. I might as well clear all of the air that surrounds us before I get the door slammed in my face, or rather the elevator equivalent of that.
"So why do all of this then? Why kiss me, why try and get to know me, why make me dinner? Why do any of this? If all you want from me is someone to bring out at events, then fine, but why try and make it seem like it's more than that?" My heart is pounding by this point, the eye contact is back. But I don't shy away this time, I know I have a point. I stare back into his eyes. Instead of me breaking the eye contact, he does by shaking his head and running a frustrated hand through his mop of hair.
"I normally have that kind of arrangement. But with you, I don't know, I was trying something...different. It felt nice." A lump in my chest begins to form and the anger I felt before dissipates. He sounds wildly uncomfortable as he speaks, like he's being honest. The closed book has allowed me to read a page or two; and I want to keep reading.
"So what is it that you want from me then?" I speak softly, I swear my heart thumping in my chest is louder than the timid sound of my voice. Once more his hand is brought through his hair before he drops it down the back of his neck and gives it a gentle scratch.