That weekend, all I could think about was the proposition. Who was this guy and what did he want? What was his motive? I  suppose, on a deeper level, the bigger question (considering how lonely I was) was Why was I even questioning his motive? Why couldn’t he be exactly what he claimed to be? Was that really so hard to accept?

My father used to say, “If it ain’t broke, don’t fix it—but if it’s already broke, it don’t matter what you do.” My life was definitely broken. So why not? Really, what did I have to lose? I even asked myself, What would Zoey do? I knew what she’d do. She’d say, “You only live once, girl,” and she’d buckle up for the ride. I suppose that my mind was probably somewhere in Zoeyland when I decided to say yes.

The next Monday, Nicholas arrived in the food court about a half hour after I’d started eating.

“Hi, Elise,” he said. “How’s your salad?”

“Good.”

“How was your weekend?”

“The usual,” I said, even though it was definitely anything but.

He sat down across from me. “Did you come to a decision?”

“Right to the point,” I said. I set down my plastic fork. “So, hypothetically, let’s say that I said yes. What would this arrangement look like?”

He smiled. “First, we write up a contract.”

“Why, you don’t trust me?”

“Contracts are not always so much a matter of trust as they are a matter of understanding. This way we’ll be more likely to meet each other’s expectations.”

I should have had one of those before my marriage, I thought.

He leaned in closer. “Let me tell you what I had in mind. I’ll pay for all meals, transportation, and admissions. We’ll have lunch together when possible and, in addition to the social functions, I’ll take you to dinner or some holiday-themed event at least once a week, and I’ll send you something, a gift, each weekday up until the end of the contract. Then, at midnight on Christmas Eve, the agreement terminates and we go back to our lonely, pathetic lives.”

“If I agree, how do we start?”

“We’ll begin by going through each other’s calendars and determining what events we can attend. It’s two-sided, of course. If you’d like, I’ll attend your events as well.”

I thought a moment more, then, with his eyes locked onto mine, said, “All right.”

“All right, let’s do it?” he asked.

I nodded. “Yes. Let’s do it.”

“Are you sure?”

“Why not? Lunch every day?”

“When possible. At least every workday. We’re two days in on that now. It hasn’t been too painful, has it?”

“It’s definitely been interesting. I don’t know about you sending me things.”

“Why?”

I shrugged. “I don’t know.”