Micro-Story Contest: Business Sense

"We both knew the risks." Her eyes narrowed to dark, soulless slits. "We made a choice, now we'll live with it."

"You are heartless," he whispered.

"Spare me the sentimental rubbish!" She frowned at a smudge of misapplied mascara and proceeded to remove the blemish. She hated blemishes.

He gulped down his double scotch and considered a refill. The murmur of voices from behind the door seemed to discourage him.

"You don't understand. This is not some measly investment we are talking about. This is life. Our life."

In lieu of a response, she turned her back to him, impatiently, invitingly. He zipped her up, taking his time, relishing the fantasy of the tiny metal teeth biting into her flesh, tearing it in their clasp, ripping, shredding...

She turned around, flashed him a smile.

"Try not to take things to heart, darling. But then again, you can't help it. You do have a knack for picking lousy commodities. Take Amanda-"

"Leave Amanda out of this!"

"Old flames burning steady, darling?"

He slumped into an armchair. God, he needed a drink. He was drunk, but not drunk enough. Would he ever be drunk enough ever again?

"I should never have listened to your father!" he spat out.

"My father? My father?"

He could see she was losing it, and glanced anxiously at the closed door. No stopping her now.

"This is a deal you agreed to willingly. All too willingly. You and your mercenary pack of a family even went so far as to find me "charming" not too long ago."

She drove a plump foot into a high-heeled shoe. When she faced him again, her fury had crawled behind a mask of flawless propriety.

"Relax, darling. The market is unpredictable. You win some, you lose some."

She drew pleasure from the look of doom on his face. Her voice had mellowed into the finely tuned cadence of the perfect hostess.

"You get the high life along with fond memories of your ex as a bonus. I get to do whatever I want. Including picking the company I see fit. Sounds like a fair deal to me."

He pulled himself up.

Side by side, they stared at the door as if they were sizing up an enemy.

Ostentatiously, he held it open for her and motioned her to pass.

She cast a casual glance at the bundle of her wedding-gown on the bed before they plunged into the maelstrom of chattering guests.