A proposal
**Enrico**
I waited for Rachel for over two hours, with no idea of when she would finish work. The mere association of the word "work" with Rachel was surprising, given what I knew about her—a spoiled and selfish person. However, it was indeed happening.
Rachel looked at me disdainfully and asked, "What do you want, Enrico?"
It was clear how much she seemed to hate me, but I was always sure that her feelings toward me were more complicated than they appeared. She didn't despise me; she despised the feelings I could evoke in her.
I responded coldly, "I have a proposition for you. To save time, we can discuss it on the way to your friend's house."
I was exaggerating a bit since the trip from Lake City Way to Beacon Hill wouldn't take more than forty minutes. However, that time would be enough to be in the same car as Rachel without feeling affected by her presence.
I greeted the other girl who was prudently a few meters away and asked, "So, shall we?"
Rachel clearly wasn't happy to see me, but, according to the story Sarah told me, she didn't have much choice at the moment, and as I expected, she ended up accepting my ride, and later, she heard my proposal.
Rachel asked me not to discuss the proposal in front of Lindsay, her friend.
"Wait until she leaves the car," she demanded. "I don't want Lindsay to hear what you have to propose to me."
I agreed indifferently, "Fine by me."
Soon, both of them were inside my car as I drove through the quiet city streets at that hour. It was almost the same time I had left the hotel the night before, leading me to conclude that Rachel was probably among the people in the parking lot when I departed.
"I saw you yesterday when you were leaving the parking lot," I commented.
I wanted to understand the relationship between Rachel and her "friend" Lindsay. It seemed like Lindsay wasn't a very close person to Rachel, considering her request for discretion.
"I could have prevented us from being practically thrown out on the street," Lindsay said with no filter, "But we ended up running into some of Rachel's relatives who saved us from being stranded in the middle of the street at that hour."
Lindsay wasn't someone close to Rachel. Curious, I asked, "Why did you hitch a ride with those people?"
"I just wanted to better understand the situation," Lindsay continued to explain.
"I was at fault in this case. I believed they were my friends because we had been working together for a few weeks, and they welcomed me so warmly when I arrived..."
It was evident that she was embarrassed, but her sincerity was clear. She wasn't using tricks or lies to conceal the fact that she had been trusting and even a bit irresponsible.
Rachel intervened, saying:
"That's not relevant anymore. It's in the past, and now we're here."
Lindsay quickly agreed and then looked at me with curiosity through the rearview mirror:
"Are you relatives too?"
Rachel immediately denied:
"No! He's just a friend of my sister. Nothing more than that."
The rest of the journey was made in silence, only the comforting sound of the powerful engine of the car, a BMW that I always appreciated. When we arrived in front of the building where Rachel would stay, Lindsay thanked and excused herself, saying that Rachel could take her time, and she would wait for her awake.
I commented without ulterior motives:
"Lindsay seems to be a good girl."
I had many things on my mind at that moment, but none of them were related to the girl who had just left my car, even though she was beautiful, with long, black, curly hair that reached below the middle of her back.
"I don't know. I don't know her well enough to vouch for that," Rachel spoke rudely, "But we're not here to talk about Lindsay. What about getting straight to the point?"
"Sure," I agreed with annoyance, "Regarding the matter I have to discuss with you, it's about a proposal I have to make."
"You already said that," Rachel continued with her rudeness, "I want you to tell me what the proposal is. I don't have time to waste out here; I need to wake up early."
It was curious how, even when talking about work and her new motivation to wake up early, Rachel managed to maintain a tone of arrogance and her haughty posture, as if she were still the rich and successful heiress she used to be.
"I heard you're in a bad situation, Rachel," I commented, trying to convey a tone of disdain in my voice, something Rachel did so effortlessly but that I couldn't imitate convincingly.
She countered me again:
"Why not speak plainly? It's not like you found out through some stranger or unknown person. Sarah was the one who told you about me."
I sighed, getting irritated:
"All right, I'll rephrase it." I was becoming impatient. "Sarah told me you're at rock bottom, without a penny, working ten hours a day just to pay for a stay in a cheap hotel and avoid being reported as a fraudster. Is it clearer to you now?"
Rachel's surprised expression revealed that she didn't expect me to know so much, or rather, that Sarah knew so much.
"That's right, Rachel," I continued, providing details she might be unaware of. "We know everything that's happening to you. Including the fact that your money was stolen by a close friend of yours... Shirley, isn't it?"
Indignant, Rachel protested:
"How could that have happened? Shirley didn't have access to my accounts!"
I shrugged sarcastically:
"You'll have to figure that out on your own when you return to Monaco." I was cutting: "Oh, I forgot, you're not likely to go back to Monaco anytime soon, are you?"
I was being a real jerk, a complete asshole. But Rachel didn't deserve the best from anyone. On the contrary, she always seemed to attract the worst people, like her friend and others who had crossed her path.
"What proposal do you have for me?" She chose to return to the main topic, a strong indication that she wanted to get rid of me as soon as possible.
"I plan to take my father with me to London, and I'll need two people to take care of him," I explained. "He's still relatively young, only fifty-eight, but I can't leave him alone at home."
"And do I look like an old man's babysitter!?"
If I hadn't given up on Rachel before, her statement would have managed to do it now.
"I'm just trying to help you, Rachel!" I was very upset now. "But if you'd rather stay here, working like a slave in the hotel, or wherever else you can manage, then so be it! Screw it!"
Although I knew that helping someone like Rachel wasn't a logical choice, I simply couldn't turn a blind eye to what she was going through. Knowing that others were trying to harm her in every way, my sense of compassion spoke louder. She needed to learn to become a better person, true, but it was also true that I loved her deeply. I couldn't just allow her to face all this suffering alone.
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