The Girl I Shouldn't Want
844 Words
DEREK.
When I returned to my office, I found my assistant, Mrs. Jane, waiting outside.
"Mr. Blue," she greeted with a respectful nod.
She was dressed professionally as always—a floral blouse tucked into a pencil skirt; her glasses perched neatly on her nose.
I groaned. "Mrs. Jane."
"There's a lady here for an interview. She's been waiting for nearly an hour."
"Send her in."
Mrs. Jane nodded and stepped out. A few moments later, she returned and opened the door.
The woman who entered immediately caught my attention.
She had blonde hair tied into a neat ponytail, bright blue eyes behind a pair of glasses, and dimples that appeared whenever she smiled. She carried herself with a quiet confidence despite her obvious nervousness.
She wore black trousers and a simple white T-shirt.
Elegant.
Natural.
Beautiful.
I nearly dropped my cigarette.
I pointed toward the chair opposite my desk. "Please, have a seat."
She sat down carefully.
I cleared my throat. "Shall we begin? Relax. I don't bite." I said, my eyes raking her body.
A nervous laugh escaped her lips. The dimples appeared.
Damn.
I looked away for a moment. "Introduce yourself."
"My name is Mirabella Phillips. I studied fashion design and have two years of experience in modelling. I also enjoy traveling and-"
I cut her off. "You're hired."
Her eyes widened. "What?"
"You're hired."
I stood up, grabbed my jacket, and headed for the door. Behind me, silence filled the room. I imagined the confusion on her face.
Mrs. Jane looked equally surprised when I stepped outside.
"She's hired," I said. "Show her, her office and, introduce her to the staff."
"Of course, Mr. Blue."
I turned and walked out. Something about that woman had unsettled me. I hated being unsettled.
---
My driver opened the car door as I entered.
"To the mansion," I ordered.
"Yes, sir."
The drive home was quiet. The city lights blurred past the windows as we drove.
When I arrived home, I went straight to my room. A cold shower helped clear my thoughts, but not completely.
Mirabella's smile kept returning to my mind.
Those dimples - those eyes.
My heartbeat raced.
I cursed under my breath, while jerking it up and down with my warm hand. With a loud groan, I released hot seeds and bathed.
What was wrong with me?
After getting dressed in black jeans, a white vest, and my leather jacket, I fixed my hair and stared at my reflection.
I forced a smile. It looked strange.
Almost unfamiliar.
"When was the last time I smiled?" I muttered.
The thought made me laugh. Then I headed downstairs.
"Take me to my parent’s house," I instructed my driver.
My driver nodded. The journey was short.
As soon as we arrived, my mother rushed toward the car. I sighed. Some things never changed.
"Mom."
"My son!" she cried dramatically. "You never visit. Do you hate us?"
I wrapped an arm around her shoulders and kissed her forehead.
"I don't hate you. I'm just busy."
She smiled warmly.
"Come inside. Everyone has been waiting for you."
She dragged me toward the house before I could protest.
---
The dining table was covered with enough food to feed an army. And, unfortunately, Annabelle's family was already there.
I was pissed.
Annabelle stood the moment she saw me. She wore a purple skirt and a white top, her hair styled perfectly.
A bright smile appeared on her face as she hurried toward me.
I stayed expressionless.
She hugged me anyway.
"Derek."
"Anna."
Behind us, I heard my parents whispering excitedly. "Look at them. They're already bonding."
I resisted the urge to roll my eyes.
After greeting everyone, I sat beside my grandparents. Their faces brightened immediately.
"Welcome, grandson."
"It's good to see you."
I smiled genuinely. "You should both move in with me. I've told you that a hundred times."
They laughed. "And we've told you a hundred times that we're perfectly happy here."
Dinner began.
Halfway through the meal, my father spoke. "Derek, I heard you hired a new employee today."
I looked up. "Do you have people spying on me now?"
"I don't need spies. Information finds me."
I scoffed. "Stay out of my business."
My father leaned back in his chair. "I would if you focused on something else besides work."
"You mean marriage."
"Exactly."
The entire table went silent. My mother smiled hopefully. Annabelle sat up straighter. I already regretted coming.
"You're thirty years old," my father continued. "It's time."
"I'm not ready," I said through clenched teeth.
"Annabelle is."
I pinched the bridge of my nose.
"Father-"
"We won't accept anyone else," he interrupted. "She's beautiful, intelligent, and comes from a respected family. If you wait too long, someone else might marry her."
Annabelle blushed.
I offered my father a dry smile. "Thank you for the advice."
The sarcasm went over his head. The table erupted into laughter.
I stared down at my plate.
If only they knew how little interest I had in their plans. They wouldn’t be rejoicing.
- Writer
