Money-schmoney

At the table adorned with crystal glasses, silverware, and candles, a tense silence hung in the air. Every eye in the room was fixed on Liam—well, rather, on his wife, Emily, in his body—who, seemingly oblivious to the confused stares, was enthusiastically finishing her stumbling speech:

— So, well then, gentlemen, it’s, um… all settled, right? Money-schmoney, we’ll make billions, woo-hoo! — She raised her fist as if to emphasize her words, clearly expecting a reaction, maybe even some approval.

Liam, sitting across from her in Emily’s body, cringed inwardly. He could practically feel his own reputation cracking apart before everyone’s eyes. In this company, he was always composed, calculating, and focused on hard facts—and he certainly never said things like "money-schmoney." But now, as Emily in his body was destroying everything he’d built, he could only watch helplessly from across the table, feeling uncomfortable… and painfully aware of how the tight dress clung to his borrowed body as he caught the glances of his business partners, each one sending a chill down his spine.

But this was it; he couldn’t take it anymore. He stood up abruptly, hands pressing into the table, feeling the dress squeeze his waist while his—now his—chest moved slightly under the thin fabric.

‘Damn it, this can’t go on!’ raced through his mind as he felt his face flush. Liam attempted to take the floor.

— Excuse me, — his new soft, high-pitched voice broke the silence. A few men glanced at him in surprise, but he continued, trying not to show his nerves. — Maybe I… I could say a few words? — His voice was nearly a whisper, but out of nerves it came out sharp and strained.

Everyone at the table exchanged looks, watching as Emily, who was usually carefree and rarely even present at these meetings, now stood with a serious expression, looking reproachfully at Liam, whose face showed a boyish embarrassment, as if he had "messed up."

One of the men at the table, John Harper—a seasoned investor, stern and always slightly condescending—snorted as he looked at Liam (or rather, his wife Emily in his body) and, smirking, said:

— Liam, what’s with this new management style? Did your… uh… wife start running the business in your name? Or did you decide to "let her have a go"?

In response, Emily’s face (in Liam’s body) lit up with a delighted smile, as if she’d just been praised. She nodded, confusing everyone even more.

— Yes, exactly, John! Liam and I—I mean Emily and I—we’re a true team! And, well… um, how to put it… it’s our shared venture, yes, yes! All for success!

Liam felt everything inside him sink. ‘Shared venture?! This is my company! Does she even understand what she’s saying?’ his mind raced. He gripped the delicate edge of the table a little tighter, instinctively clinging to it as if it could somehow help him regain control of the situation.

John Harper, now visibly disturbed by the confusion, leaned back in his chair and looked over at Tony, who was frowning and leaning forward, obviously intent on figuring out what kind of spectacle was unfolding here.

— Liam, — Tony began, looking at Emily (in his body), — I thought we discussed a completely different strategy. Where exactly is this “all for success”? And, really, what role does your… wife play here?

— Gentlemen, — Liam began, trying to inject as much confidence as he could muster, despite the high, soft tone of his voice, — My dear husband has decided… to entrust me with some of his responsibilities today, — Liam nearly spat out the words, feeling the dress pinch his waist as his face burned with shame. — Everything will proceed as we discussed, and I assure you that… — John's sudden laughter cut him off mid-sentence.

John shook his head, smirking as he clearly enjoyed the absurdity unfolding. — Liam, forgive me, but are you serious? — He glanced at Tony, who gave him a knowing smirk, exchanging a look of mutual amusement. — You really want your… wife to be involved in contract negotiations with MinerTek? We’re talking about hundreds of millions, if not more.

Liam struggled to contain the anger rising within him. ‘How humiliating,’ he thought, gritting his teeth, balancing awkwardly on the high heels, thankful at least that the table provided some support. ‘Calm down, Liam… be professional, you can handle this,’ he told himself, taking a deep breath and straightening up, trying to steady himself.

— Gentlemen, — he tried to speak again, desperately suppressing the tremor in his voice, — the MinerTek project is a joint effort between Emily and myself… uh, Liam, actually. He couldn’t disclose everything, but this was my idea, and of course, we have it all under control, — Liam finished, barely clinging to his last shreds of confidence. He struggled to withstand the piercing stares from John and Tony, feeling how the stray strands of hair tickled his neck and shoulders.

Emily, still beaming across from him, seemed blissfully proud of her "contribution" to the business, nodding eagerly.

— Oh yes, yes, yes, my wife is just so incredibly smart and talented! — she exclaimed with enthusiasm, as if complimenting herself. Her face radiated pride, and, grabbing a fork, she enthusiastically stabbed a piece of fish, oblivious to the stunned looks around her.

Liam, feeling his patience wearing thin, gritted his teeth, eyes fixed on this humiliating scene. It was hard to imagine anything more awkward and absurd. All these men, with whom he had spent years building relationships, were now witnessing what looked like some airheaded fool instead of a confident businessman.

Tony let out a scoff, glancing mockingly at "Liam" as she finished her fish.

— I came here to discuss a deal, not watch this circus, — Tony said sharply, getting up from his chair and casting an icy glare at Emily in Liam’s body.

Emily (in Liam’s body) blinked in confusion, not fully understanding why the atmosphere at the table had suddenly grown so tense. She looked like she was ready to respond, but fortunately stayed silent, gripping her fork and staring at her half-eaten dinner in a daze.

Taking a deep breath, Liam, using his last ounce of willpower to "salvage" the situation, looked at Tony, who was now standing by the table, ready to leave, and spoke firmly:

— Stop!

Tony froze, slowly turning to give Liam a surprised look. The other men at the table also looked up, startled by his sharp tone, while Liam, in Emily’s body, struggled not to waver. He knew this was his last chance to salvage his reputation and prevent years of hard work from going down the drain. But as the shock passed, Tony furrowed his brows and, clenching his fists, responded confidently, with a hint of disdain.

— What was that? — Tony asked, narrowing his eyes and looking at Liam with cold contempt. — Just who do you think you are? — he sneered, his voice dripping with disdain. — You think you can give orders here like you do… in your little fashion house or some boutique?

Liam gritted his teeth, feeling a wave of humiliation wash over him. ‘This is humiliating,’ he thought, clenching his teeth and struggling to keep control. It had all started with that ridiculous encounter with a fortune teller, someone Emily had persuaded him to visit "just for fun." She had laughed and declared they needed to "understand each other to maintain balance" in their relationship. Liam had never taken her words seriously, yet now, it had all turned into some cursed reality. He wanted to scream, to explain, to tell them about this absurd body-swap, but he knew they’d all think he’d lost his mind, and it would all go up in flames.

— Please, gentlemen, — he said, the desperation in his voice painfully evident, knowing that in his current body it sounded more like pleading than a demand. — Let’s not jump to conclusions.

Tony sneered, his contempt plain. The others, observing all of this, began to slowly rise from the table as well. John walked over to "Liam" with wide eyes and an expression of pure bewilderment.

— Sorry, pal, but this isn’t how business is done, — John said, patting Liam (in Emily’s body) on the shoulder with feigned sympathy. He gave him a long look filled with disappointment and mild disdain. — This is business.

Liam felt his world crumbling before him. Everyone was slowly but surely making their way to the exit. Emily, finally noticing the anxiety on his face, quietly asked, so that no one leaving would hear, now without her previous excitement:

— Liam… did something go wrong? I did everything right, didn’t I?

Her genuine bewilderment only added to the bitter reality of the situation. She still hadn’t realized the catastrophe she’d caused. It wasn’t her fault—no one had ever prepared her for these kinds of negotiations or explained what it meant to carry the weight of a business. For her, this was always something abstract, and tonight had just seemed like an interesting game where she could "play serious."

Liam waved her off, unable even to respond. He slumped into his chair, feeling the uncomfortable sway of his chest as he stared in silence, watching his friends and colleagues leave one by one without looking back. All his inner strength, all his composure, had been drained by this disastrous evening.

Just as the last of them left, Liam leaned toward Emily, not even feeling capable of anger.

— Do you understand what just happened? — he asked quietly, almost in a whisper. — You, with your "money-schmoney" and "woo-hoo," just ruined my career.

Emily blinked, clearly not understanding why he was so upset. She shook her head, slightly flinching at his sharp tone.

— Liam, I… I was just trying to add some enthusiasm. You always said people like it when I smile and support you!

— All you needed to do was sit quietly, and if necessary, just nod, for god’s sake… The contract was practically signed, and tonight was supposed to be a formality to… — he waved a hand, feeling his last bit of hope slip away, — well, it doesn’t matter now.

Liam sighed deeply, leaning back in his chair, feeling the tension flooding his whole body. He closed his eyes, trying to fend off the bitter realization that all his hard work had been destroyed by a moment of Emily’s lightheartedness.

But in the next moment, he felt something strange, an almost physical tension, as if the air around them had thickened. He felt warm, just like the last time they had swapped bodies. His body tensed up, and he froze, opening his eyes, and at that moment the whole room seemed to blur in front of him.

Emily, sitting across from him, also grabbed the table, staring at him in shock. Suddenly, as if by a snap, Liam felt his body become… familiar again. Looking down at his hands, he saw his own strong hands instead of Emily’s delicate fingers. Across from him, his wife, now back in her own body, looked at him with bewilderment and a hint of fear.

Liam reached up to his face, feeling that everything was back to normal. It had been an instant, unexplainable shift, but he knew he was back in his own body. Yet strangely, he didn’t feel any joy about it, even though he had desperately wished for it all night while trapped in Emily’s form.

Emily was the first to break the silence.

— Liam… — her voice shook, lacking any of her previous lightheartedness. — What… what just happened? Are we… ourselves again?

Liam gave her a long, heavy look, filled with anger, disappointment, and exhaustion. He felt he wasn’t ready for explanations or long conversations. Words boiled up inside him, but he pushed them down, not wanting to say too much in the heat of the moment.

— Yes, Emily, we’re ourselves again, — he replied coldly, struggling to keep his composure. — And now I have to clean up the mess left by your little… show.

Emily, realizing how serious Liam was about what had happened, tried to explain herself, but he raised his hand, stopping her.

— Not now, Emily. Just… give me time.

With those words, he stood up, adjusted his jacket, and walked toward the exit, feeling as if each step was heavier than the last.