Signing the pre-nuptial papers

Counselor Sandoval tells you you're of age to sign contracts, and from her scanty research, you are getting a deal comparable to a young woman marrying into a family with inherited wealth.

She raises her eyebrows. "Does Ms. Campion really have the sort of wealth that calls for this sort of ceremony?"

You shrug. "I think Counselor Lupino likes to play the ball buster. And she doesn't want me to break the bank on Anne's divorce settlement if I fuck up. How does it look?"

"Ms. Lupino took out all the unenforceable trash, so if you sign the pre-nup, it will stand up unless you somehow get a genius lawyer on your side."

"So?"

"Sign it. That's what I'd tell my son if he was in this position."

"What about a daughter?"

"Marry the guy with a pre-nup like this? No way, sue for child support. You? Sign."

"You want an invitation to the wedding?"

"Sure, my brother used to stay up late and watch the Avengers. I got to be a fan of Emma Peel. I'd love to see how your latter-day Mrs. Peel measures up. She's a self-defense teacher, right?"

"Yeah, pretty much, tall pretty redhead, kinda sharp and sarcastic, but never actually cruel, peak sex drive like they say for women in their thirties, breaks boards when she gets mad, she could star in an Avengers remake."

"And she's fourteen years older than you, and technically your boss at the health club."

"Yeah. She's even more the boss now that I practically live with her."

"I wonder if she got pregnant by you accidentally on purpose. Oh well. Not mine to judge, Joe."

You have a sinking feeling inside that any real student of the Pick-Up Arts would be laughing his ass off about you getting trapped by a mommy domme who made you into her pet.

Fuck 'em. You'll be the arm candy sidekick to the most awesome badass beauty you know.

Next Wednesday morning it's you, Anne, and your lawyers in Ulva Lupino's office.

Counselor Lupino has her war paint on, bold red lipstick, dark eyeliner, and dark pencil emphasizing the arch of each eyebrow. Dark slacks, dark jacket, silk blouse. Her law office has doors tall enough that she's wearing three-inch heels which make her almost a giantess.

Anne is in white, fresh from a shower after her morning self-defence class.

You're in an outfit Anne picked out for you a couple weeks ago, a step up from your basic khakis and Oxford shirt.

Edith Sandoval is in her Legal Aid Lawyer outfit, a professional but basic skirt suit, but she's added a fragrant white gardenia pinned to her lapel. For the occasion? From something earlier?

You and Anne sign.

"Mr. Campion," Anne says. "May I say you're looking lovely today."

"And you're radiant, Ms. C."

She is. It's the biggest smile you've seen on her face.

Ms. Sandoval shakes hands with Ms. Lupino.

Ulva laughs. "Thank you for your red pencil job, Counselor. It'll be more ironclad after your edits."

"I wasn't going to let Joe walk into an unenforceable mishmash," Edith Sandoval says. "You're devoted to your client, I can see."

Ulva's lip twitches.

"Admirable," Ms. Sandoval says.

Wait, did your lawyer just accuse Anne's lawyer of being romantically attached to her client? Or just too attached and not giving the pre-nup to someone who was actually good at it? Too much, Joe, save your thinking for the little head.

"All good, shall we celebrate, maybe get some tacos?"

Using STALK THEM and GROUP SEX, roll +COOL (-1) to see if your fiancée and the lawyers are up for a little celebration: 9-1 = 8. YOU FIND THEM IN PUBLIC.

Drinks on Anne in the seaside terrace of a popular watering hole.

"Sure, Joe," Anne says. "What's that place you like, Joe, El Gringo Loco? I'm buying, come on."

Edith and Ulva look up from where they've been having some sort of lawyer conversation with heads close together.

"Sure," Ms. Sandoval says. Ulva nods.

"Ms. Lupino?" you say. "El Gringo Loco is mostly outside with uneven pavement and sand. Do you have some other shoes?"

She does.