I am in the midst of negotiating a particularly distasteful prenuptial agreement. (It's all romance, all the time, here at BookishNYC.) This time I'm representing the bride-to-be, who is penniless, marrying the standard-issue investment banker. She may be a bit naive in financial matters, but he is being very cowardly about fessing up to just how stingy he intends to be. He keeps telling her that "the lawyers should work it out," an instruction that she then repeats to me. Today I had to take a strong stand with her and remind her that I am not marrying the other lawyer, that neither he nor I care in any real sense what the terms of the agreement are, and that it is her fiance -- her beloved, her soulmate, her groom -- and not the fiance's attorney, who is calling the shots. Many tears.
It brought to mind a quote from my favorite author Anthony Trollope: "I doubt whether any girl would be satisfied with her lover's mind if she knew the whole of it."