Mothers and Daughters Pt. 12

"Such as," Nate prompted.

"First, you have to delete every copy, every record, every print-out, every picture and every video you ever took of Briana and me, separate or together. No back-up copies, nothing left."

"Okay," Nate nodded.

"Second, we would have to have a balance about power - and I mean about everything, not just sex. It won't be your way all the time."

"We can work that out," Nate assured her.

"And if you do something nice for me, there will be no automatic understanding that I owe you, or have to pay you back somehow."

"Sure," Nate looked at her briefly as he drove.

"You promise?"

"I do," he nodded solemnly, realizing only afterward the double entendre of that phrase.

After another half hour of music, she asked "What's in it for you to buy my house?"

"It's a good investment," Nate suggested. "I've only seen it twice, but unless things have changed, I can make more money on rent than I am with my investments now." He paused. "You're in a good location. I am sure I can find a junior diplomat who will rent it fully furnished."

"How will we settle on price?"

"You get two appraisals," Nate shrugged, "and I'll get two appraisals. We'll take the average."

Martha nodded, understanding the concept, but unclear on the hidden implications. "I need to think about that," she warned. Nate nodded, and Martha fell silent again.

An hour later they pulled up to the Radisson Blu Hotel in Berlin. "Oh, Nate," Martha protested as he pulled the Audi up to the building, "I can't afford a hotel like this."

"I've already paid for three nights and breakfasts," Nate offered as he pulled the car up to the front doors. "I figure if you need to time and space to think, then you can't be worried about how to pay for it." He stepped out of the car, walked around, and opened her door.

"Thank you," she stood out of the car and hugged him, "for everything, asshole," she only half smiled.

"I seem to get that a lot," he observed sardonically as he opened the back door and retrieved her suitcase.

"You're a warped motherfucker," she nodded.

"You swear a lot more," he observed.

"The new me doesn't care as much about what other people think," Martha intuitively gazed into the distance.

"Good to hear," Nate smiled. He looked her in the eyes. "You take care, and tell me what you decide."

"I promise," Martha smiled, and without another word, she turned and walked away, carrying her suitcase and purse. Nate watched as the doorman opened the door, and Martha disappeared into the hotel. He got in his car, and drove home.