The Decent Proposal Read Free Page B

they’re living, too—in particular, when they wish to dispose of property. And one of my clients is offering you five hundred thousand dollars each, if you’ll agree to spend some time together. Atleast once a week for two continuous hours, for one full calendar year.”
    Richard’s eyebrows tilted downward in an exaggerated V that looked almost comical, like a vaudeville pantomime, but Elizabeth’s face didn’t move at all. It was her frozen mask—suggestive of horror—that made the lawyer pause, and inside this pause his brisk manner fell away. He took refuge in his notes, slipping on a rimless pair of reading glasses with a flustered, fumbling air. Though he wasn’t quite sixty-five, in this moment he looked older, almost feeble, while struggling to find his place.
    â€œPlease understand that my client wishes to remain anonymous. I can tell you nothing about this individual.”
    His eyes flicked upward in apology. He forced them down again.
    â€œLet’s see . . . a few points: There cannot be any third parties present except for incidental reasons—waiters at restaurants and so forth—and you must conduct yourselves in a substantially conversational manner. That is to say, it is not enough to merely remain in each other’s presence for the two hours. You must talk during them. But please note that conversation is the only requirement, and the subject of this conversation is immaterial.”
    He removed his glasses and began polishing them on his silken tie with an air of relief.
    Richard was the first to speak. He laughed: a single, disbelieving bark of a laugh.
    â€œHalf a million dollars? Each? ”
    The lawyer nodded.
    â€œYou’re kidding, right?” Richard made a show of whipping his head around the room, as if he were looking for a hidden camera, but even now, seconds after hearing the proposal, a part of him was wondering if he could ask for an advance.
    The lawyer put down his glasses and shook his head, no .
    â€œBut . . . why?” Richard asked. “I mean, we’ve never met before—”
    He swung his head in the woman’s direction.
    â€œâ€”right?”
    She nodded, which was the first time she’d moved since the lawyer had spoken.
    â€œSo why us? What’s the point?”
    The lawyer spread out his hands. “I’m afraid I can’t give you any reasons, just the proposal itself. These were my client’s express instructions.”
    Elizabeth felt as though she were watching them from inside a glass bottle, or some sort of aquarium or other transparent tank. It was hard to follow what they were saying, but she could see them perfectly, and she tracked every hand gesture and head movement now as if her life depended on it. The lawyer’s proposal was a trap, obviously, or a joke, or something equally cruel. She wanted nothing to do with it. If there was one thing she knew, it was that nothing came for free.
    â€œI’ve made two copies of the formal agreement, which lays out in more detail what I’ve already told you, along with standard and customary supplementation: representations and warranties, a no-publicity clause, the pro rata payment schedule, and so forth.”
    With a jerk of his hands, he pushed two stapled documents in opposite directions over the glossy tabletop, as if they were air hockey pucks. Richard caught his copy and turned over the pages without reading them. No matter what ended up happening, he couldn’t wait to tell Mike, who was going to Freak. The Hell. Out .
    Elizabeth let her copy slide off the table and fall to the ground. She stared at it, and then at the lawyer, as if to say: that’s what I think of your proposal .
    â€œHow were we selected for this?” she asked finally, her dark eyes boring into him.
    Richard looked up: yeah, how?
    â€œI’m afraid I can’t tell you that either,” the lawyer said. “But no one has violated