THE PROPOSAL
by chocolatejet
. . . . . . . . . .
Summary: Threatened with deportation, Maleficent Fey, editor-in-chief at Bewitched Books, persuades her assistant to marry her. Based on the 2009 film, 'The Proposal'. Modern AU, Maleval.
Disclaimer: Just borrowing various characters and storylines for my own amusement. No harm meant; no profit made. Uhthankyou.
. . . . . . . . . .
Chapter One
We're Getting Married
. . . . . . . . . .
"Ma, please, tell Gammy I'm sorry, but I can't take the time off work." Diaval sighed and kneaded his forehead against the first pangs of what was bound to be a colossal headache. "The place is a madhouse what with the installation of a new CEO."
"But it's her ninetieth birthday." Even over the phone, Diaval could hear the distress in his mother's voice loud and clear. He swallowed back his guilt with more than a little difficulty.
"Ma, I'm sorry. Really, I am, but-" He hesitated as a pair of perfectly manicured hands appeared on his desk. His gaze travelled upwards along pale arms and a chocolate-brown short-sleeved blouse, until it finally came to rest on the fair face of his boss. Those unusual golden eyes of hers watched him unwaveringly.
"Look, Ma, I have to go. Love you. Bye." Diaval quickly slammed down the receiver, earning himself an arched brow.
"Family troubles?" asked Maleficent Fey.
Diaval shrugged, knowing she wasn't actually interested. "Not troubles, exactly. Um, you needed me for something?"
Maleficent straightened and crossed her arms. "Mr King has requested my presence," she said, sounding far from enthused at the prospect of an audience with Bewitched Books' new CEO. "You know the drill. Come fetch me in ten minutes."
"Will do."
When her sashaying form had left the room Diaval let his head drop to his desk, wondering as his mother's disappointment replayed in his mind whether his life could possibly get any worse.
. . . . . . . . . .
"You wanted to see me?" asked Maleficent without preamble.
Stefan King looked up from the paperwork he'd been poring over. His scowl might have cowed most people, but Maleficent was made of tougher stuff.
"Yes," he said at last. "I've been looking through staff records." Suddenly, Stefan's eyes took on a glint that made Maleficent's own narrow with suspicion.
"And?"
"And it seems," said Stefan as he extracted a sheet of paper from the pile on his desk, "that your visa has been rejected."
For the first time in what seemed an age, Maleficent felt a stab of panic. "I'm sorry, what?"
He continued as though she hadn't spoken. "If you can't sort this out with the Immigration Office, you will be deported."
"Deported?" Maleficent quickly smothered her alarm, levelling Stefan with a cool gaze. "Not too much of an issue these days thanks to video conferencing and-"
"I hate to be the bearer of bad news," said Stefan, looking anything but sorry as he leaned back in his chair, elbows on its armrests and fingers steepled against his mouth. "But without citizenship, you can no longer be employed by this company."
Before Maleficent could respond, there came a knock at the door. Diaval ducked his head inside.
"Sorry to interrupt, but there's a client on the phone for you, Miss Fey. I told her you were otherwise engaged, but she insisted…" Diaval trailed off as he noticed a startling smile creep across Maleficent's face. She crooked a finger at him. He went to her side after a brief pause, trying not to let his confusion show.
"Mr King. I have a confession to make." That said, Maleficent threaded an arm through Diaval's, patting his bicep with her other hand. "Diaval Blake and I are getting married…"