Chapter 7 No.7

"Wait," Imogen said, panic rising again. "Money. I... I can't pay you much. I have about forty dollars to my name right now. But once I get a job at a firm, I can pay you a monthly stipend. For... rent and services."

Gael stared at her. She was offering to pay him.

"How much?" he asked, curiosity getting the better of him.

"I can promise... ten thousand dollars? Over two years?" She looked terrified that he would laugh.

"Ten thousand," Gael repeated. That was roughly what he spent on wine in a month.

"I know it's not a lot," she rushed to explain. "But I'm a good architect. I mean, I will be. I just need a chance."

"I don't want your money, Imogen," Gael said.

"No! I have to pay. I pay for everything. I don't take charity." Her chin went up. The pride was palpable.

Gael realized this was non-negotiable for her. She needed to feel like she wasn't being rescued. She needed to feel like she was buying a service.

"Fine," he said. "Ten thousand. Payable when you land your first big job."

"Deal." She stuck out her hand.

He took it. Her skin was rough from cleaning chemicals, her grip firm. As their hands touched, a waitress arrived with two coffees he hadn't ordered.

"Here you are," the waitress said, placing them on the table. "Compliments of the house. For... the entertainment." She gave Gael a nervous, admiring glance before scurrying away.

Imogen pulled her hand back, a flush creeping up her neck. The entire cafe had watched their drama unfold. She took a sip of the hot coffee, letting the warmth steady her nerves. "So," she began, trying to reclaim some sense of normalcy. "Your family. The ones who are pressuring you. Are they... a lot?"

"You have no idea," Gael said, a hint of genuine exhaustion in his voice. "They're well-meaning but suffocating. They think a man isn't complete without a wife and 2.5 kids. They keep trying to set me up with their friends' daughters."

"I know the feeling," Imogen muttered, thinking of Linda and Dr. Aris. "Except in my case, it's less about my happiness and more about my market value."

The bitterness in her voice was sharp. Gael looked at her, his expression unreadable. He saw the intelligence warring with the exhaustion in her eyes, the resilience holding the broken pieces of her together. This was more than a shield. This was a woman who knew how to survive a war.

"They won't be a problem for you," Gael said, his tone firm. "I'll handle my family. You just have to handle... being seen with me occasionally."

"I think I can manage that," she said, a ghost of a smile on her lips. For the first time, the arrangement felt less like a desperate bargain and more like a strategic alliance.