CHAPTER 4

MICHELE ANTUNES

Oh, my God, are you okay? -I run towards you and pat you on the back in an attempt to undress you. Don't die, please! - I ask with wide eyes with a mixture of fear and guilt.

What the hell am I doing with my life?

Oliver coughs with his face redded by effort and gradually his breath goes back to normal. I let go of the air i didn't even realize i was holding, relieved that I didn't kill the man. I don't want to be arrested for manslaughter, no way! I'm too young and too pretty to face jail.

Do you feel better? -I question lowering myself in front of you while one of my hands remains on your back sliding up and down and my eyes seek your face.

I'm sorry, i am. - he responds with a hoarse voice.

You scared the out of me. I thought I killed you, man! -we laugh and his bluish look holds on to mine for a few seconds as we stare at each other in silence.

For a moment we stayed like this until my record finally drops and I realize what I'm doing inanely. I hastily remove the hand on your back and gather it over my lap. Pertaining myself again on my feet, I sit in the armchair facing him with his desk creating a secure barrier between us.

Focus on the goal, Michele!

- Huhum... -smothered snare and his face burning in flames. So you're going to help me? Don't worry, it won't be real. - I mean getting a little confidence and moving on. - I just need you to pretend to be my fiancé and that's it. You don't have to really commit yourself, Oliver.

Are you serious, Michele? Oliver falls his head aside looking at me like I'm crazy or something.

Oh, of course. Why wouldn't I be? - I'm going to hit you with another question.

Maybe because that doesn't make any sense? -he inquires with a minimal smile on his side and a pang of irony in his voice. Why do you need a front-up groom? Who are you trying to fool and what's the point? -your crafty look now critically analyzes me making me feel like a lab mouse being observed by a smart and experienced researcher.

- First thing, I'm not trying to fool anyone. Well, not in the literal sense of the word, I mean. I correct myself quickly and Oliver lets out a giggle finding it amusing.

All right, go ahead. -it encourages me and relaxes the posture by letting the back fall on the back of your seat.

- Look, I'm going to briefly explain the situation so you don't stand there with these... with those huge blue judged eyes condemned me in his mind. - I say nervous ly curling up in the last part of the sentence.

Do my eyes intimidate you, Michele? -I see a shadow of fun clouding that bluish immensity that he calls eyes, when it leans over the table leaning on his elbows and bringing the face closer to mine. Do you feel embarrassed when I look at you deeply? Oliver insists visibly enritifiable to himself.

- Of course not, for both questions. What a misplaced arrogance! I outrage by squeezing my fingers over my lap. - But back to the previous subject. I need you to help me impersonate my fiancé just for my mother. She has an absurd dream of seeing me married to a handsome man before she hits her boots.

Oh, so you think I'm cute? -his smile full of white and perfect teeth almost tears his face causing the corner of his eyes to wrinkle gracefully.

Wait! What? No, no, no, no, no, no, no, I didn't mean graceful, I meant... horrible. Yes, that's it! Horrible.

No, no, no, no -sorry cry for the misuse of words.

So you don't think I'm cute? -he slightly rotates the chair on the wheels. You must have a lot of courage to come here and ask me for an absurd favor, and on top of that insult my appearance, Michele.

I'm sorry, I didn't mean to offend you, for God's sake, Oliver! - I mean feeling the cold sweat run down my spine.

I'm going to end up screwing up and consequently miss the opportunity to convince you, if you continue with these messs produced by my brain that decided to play the useless at the moment. Take a deep breath and think of every word calmly, Michele. You can do it, girl! Come on, let's go, let's

I misexpressed myself, Oliver. You're a handsome man. - I say cautiously observing your reaction that you don't appear to be offended.

- Thank you for the sincerity, you are also a very beautiful woman if I may say so. Oliver tries to hide, but behind the hand that partially covers his mouth, I can see his lips stretched in a little smile of those who are having fun with the situation.

Son of a!

But I can't condon him right away and run the risk of you denied me helping me with my plan. So I play sound and i continue to explain where I left off.

- Turns out my mom thinks I'm engaged. -return to the previous subject.

And why does she think that? Did your last relationship end recently and now you intend to keep the scam going? - Your investigative nose drives you to interrogate me like a CSI.

Lawyers...

It's not like that, Oliver. I wasn't in a relationship, but Mom thinks I'm engaged because... because I made up that story.

And why did you do that? What's your problem, Michele? -your fingers drumming over the table top in a calculating way keeping the squeal frowning.

- It was in a moment of total despair, damn it!

I am exasperated by the accusatory tone of his words thrown towards me.

- It wasn't premeditated at all. I didn't plan this. It just happened. One minute she was telling me that the doctor had told her she had cancer, and the next I was promising that she would survive to be present on my wedding day. -I spurt all the information at once, without disguising the emotional confusion I am, and Oliver gets even closer to me.

-Michele... -his hands capture mine and our fingers intertwine so that he does not allow me to move away when I try to pull my hands back.

- I didn't think straight and acted impulsively because I was hot-headed at the time. I know I was wrong to lie to her like that, okay? But you can't judge me for trying to make her happy by fulfilling her last wish! She's done so much for me in this life that...

And I don't judge you for that, Michele. Oliver interrupts me.

Don't you? -I question in doubt when i look at it with a certain unbelief.