The Perfect Arrangement

Chapter 4- Unfortunate arrangements

I spent the rest of the day and night in bed and woke up the next morning feeling recovered. It was Monday morning, and I was due to start working in one of Dad’s offices, so I showered and dressed accordingly. My stomach danced with nervous yet excited butterflies as I skipped downstairs.

But my excitement was cut short when my father emerged from the living room with a serious expression and ushered me into the room. I knew as soon as I entered and saw the people inside, there was some strange energy. A mixture between nervous tension and happiness. It felt very odd. Dad had company waiting for me in the living room. Across the room stood a man, staring out of the window with his back to me; he had broad shoulders and hair as black as coal. He didn’t move an inch when I entered the room, nor did he turn to greet me, he was still as a statue, facing the window as if he couldn’t sense or hear there were others in the room

On the sofa at the opposite side of the room sat a middle-aged man and lady. The man had a familiar looking chiselled face, with slightly tanned skin and black hair peppered with grey. He had broad shoulders much like the anonymous person standing by the window and sat looking rather uncomfortable next to the petite lady whom I assumed was his wife. She had kind, stormy grey eyes and she smiled at me pleasantly.

“Myra, this is Carl Campbell and his wife, Lynette. As I’m sure you know, Carl is my business partner and co-founder of most of the businesses.”

“Co-CEO” Carl added, smiling at Dad.

“It’s so lovely to meet you!” Lynette said sweetly as she stood and took my hand. “Carl and I knew you when you were just a baby, too young to remember, of course.”

“Lynnette was a good friend of your mother, Myra. Rest her soul”, Dad told me.

“Sit down, Myra. No need to stand awkwardly” Carl said. He was smiling, but I could see an odd look in his eyes

Noticing my eyes fixated on the man by the window, Dad coughed awkwardly and whispered to me; “that’s their son, very anti-social boy.”

I took a seat on the sofa opposite Carl and Lynette, while Dad sat in the armchair between us with his hands resting on his knees. I had no clue what the hell was going on, but the anticipation was eating me up. My heart was beating wildly, and my stomach clenched into nervous knots.

“I’ll make this quick, darling.” Dad began, “Carl and I have spent thirty years building our empire together, and we aren’t going to be around forever.”

“Are you dying?” I blurted out, suddenly panicking that Dad may be going down the same path Mom did.

“No, sweetie, don’t worry about that, I’m noy dying anytime soon…but I will one day,” he said gently.

“We both will” Carl chimed in. “Naturally, our children will take over and run the businesses, so, It’s important that both our children, you and my son, form a good partnership.”

Then something clicked in my mind, the party on Saturday. Dad's business partner. I mentally kicked myself for not realising it sooner. They know I had spent the night with their son. They obviously came to make sure it wouldn’t happen again. Not that I’d ever dream of going anywhere near their son again. It was a one-time mistake and I didn’t intend to ever see or speak to him again. But the next words I heard had me knitting my brows together in confusion.

“We want a lasting partnership, with no fear of one betraying the other” Dad said. He paused and looked down at his hands, which were now interlocked and his knuckles turning white. “Carl, Lynette and I, well we’ve decided that er-you and their son are to be married.”

My mouth fell open, I felt as though I was falling through the sofa; I heard Dad talking, as well as Carl and Lynette, but my mind couldn’t comprehend what they were saying.

Me..get married..to Theodore Campbell, the biggest womaniser I’ve ever met. What the f**k?

Then a new voice spoke, cutting through the fog in my mind

.

“This is fuckin’ bullshit!”

I snapped out of my trance-like state and looked up. The man in the window, Carl’s son, whom I’d forgotten was even there, had turned and was looking at his parents. I could see the falling and rising of his chest, an indication of his erratic breathing through unwavering anger. Then his eyes flickered to me, and my heart stopped. Those were the same storm grey eyes I’d woken up to a few days before, his jet-black hair looked the same as it did when I’d woken up in his bed yesterday morning with the same few strands of hair falling over his forehead. I felt my eyes grow at the sight of him and braced myself for him to recognise me as the slut he’d slept with on Saturday night, but when his eyes met mine, I saw only fury in them.