Well, I can’t say that I expected a beauty pageant when I went to work today. The women were clad in work clothes two sizes too small and had on makeup that made them look like they missed the bus for a strip club. While their attempts at seduction was done in a professional manner, it was still easy to guess what they were doing.
Mr. Ashton is in need of a wife and I have to make sure that it’s me.
It was supposed to be funny, the fact that all these girls were dressing up for him when he proposed to me on Saturday, yet it wasn’t. It felt like I wasn’t important enough. Why else wouldn’t he announce that he had found the person that he wanted to marry? Was I just on the list of girls that he thought could be potential wives?
The thought irked me, but I didn’t know why. It wasn’t in my
