As Marion went through her tirade, his face slid from irritated to confused, and back to irritated and annoyed again. "You've done everything you could think of<em>except TALK TO ME</em>," he shouted. "Dinners, lingerie, notes... I don't remember any of that. And<em>trysts</em>? Isn't that usually something you do with a, a...<em>mistress</em>, not your<em>wife?</em>"<br/><br/>His anger got him up to a solid shout, at this point. "And a mock award ceremony?" He paused, trying to remember it. "Aside from how incredibly<em>insulting</em>a fake award would be, do you think my ego is so huge that I need<em>strangers</em>telling me what a good job I'm doing? As though the patent payments don't give enough proof that I'm doing something useful?" He paused. "Waaaaiiiit a minute," he said, lower in volume, but still angry. "Isn't that the Stone Mountain thing, back in April?" he asked. "I didn't go to<em>that</em>because I didn't recognize them! I haven't done business with them, that's why I didn't go."<br/><br/>Leaning back in his chair, he mellowed a little. "All right, I admit that I'm not the easiest person in the world to deal with," he conceded. "But you seem to keep jumping through all these elaborate hoops to get my attention... instead of just<em>talking</em>to me."<br/><br/>After a minute of silence, he abruptly stood up, pushing the table away from Marion, making it easier for him to walk straight up to her. "As for attractive... why the hell do you think I<em>accepted</em>the marriage offer?" He leaned in and kissed Marion, knowing as he did so that she was probably in no mood for a kiss.