Close Call
1314 Words
-MIA-
This can't happen right now…. Oh God, what am I going to do now? It's too early to get caught.
“Are you alright?” Mimo whispered to me.
“I'm fine I'm fine,” I whispered back but I doubt she believed me cause she put her palms on my legs which I was tapping aggressively. I think I was sweating at this point.
“Thanks for having us Emma,” my father-in-law spoke from across the table.
“Of course, we are glad you came” I said looking directly at Brandon who had ‘I don't want to be here’ clearly written on his face.
I stood awkwardly by the side of the door as Brandon escorted his family out of the house.
"I'll be coming back to spend the weekend," Mimo said with a smile, hugging me briefly as she walked through the door.
"Oh, you shouldn't bother. Let the couples live, Mim," Marcus cut in casually as he walked past.
Mimo pulled back from me. "Emma has to get used to the Miller family ways, and I'll be there to help her” she waved her hand. " Besides she’ll need the company. Brandon can be a bore sometimes," she chuckled.
"It... It'll be perfect," I said, playing the perfect part even though I felt mortified inside.
I wouldn't just have to pretend to be Emma in front of Brandon, who already sensed something was off, but now I'd have to put up the disguise in front of his extremely social sister too.
Yay me.
"Absolutely perfect," Brandon added, standing by the foyer with that tone that suggested he wasn't looking forward to it. Mimo didn't seem to mind.
Joshua and Brandon shared a hard stare as they passed by. His father whispered something to him. Brandon's gaze flickered up to me, but he didn't say anything.
Immediately, my palms felt sweaty. It was all I could do to keep myself from backing up against the shelf.
The door shut behind Brandon, and I heard the butler ushering the visitors to the car. There was silence. For a moment, neither of us moved in the room, and then I heard the sound of a car starting and a fading engine as it pulled out of the driveway.
Brandon was moving immediately, past me, not sparing me a glance. He snapped his fingers in the air, and the maids filtered into the dining room, clearing the table.
"I'll be in my study," he informed me, walking out.
I let out a deep breath as I remembered the message I received while on the dining table. It has to be a joke right? She can't truly be here right? Hopefully.
I was just about to skip away to my room, collapse in my room and pretend the world didn’t exist. But the nagging reminder of Alicia’s earlier call and the message I’d received during dinner froze me in place.
And then chime. Another message.
From Emma.
I felt my blood run cold. The fear of being caught by Brandon was choking me.
“I’m at your—”
Before I could finish reading, the doorbell rang.
I bolted to the door, forcing a bright, practiced smile onto my face.
“You’re not answering your calls, you’re not replying to my messages,” she snapped, pushing past me before I could say anything.
Her boots clicked sharply on the floor. She froze mid step, scanning the room.
Her footsteps slowed to a halt as she glanced around the room. The chandeliers that hung high on the ceiling, the golden tapestries that hung on the wall, and the rich scent of lavender that was always present in the halls.
She stopped dead, taking in the sophisticated beauty, then her eyes found mine again, and something flashed between them. Annoyance. Maybe regret that I was living in these house instead of her.
"I should have known!" Her voice was curt, sharp.
"Emma... It's not..."
It felt weird calling her Emma. I was supposed to play that role. If Brandon walked down the stairs at any time, he would take one look between us, and the two-year contract would be breached.
"Oh, but I know exactly what this is," Emma leaned in, strands of her auburn hair getting in my face. "You get married to some rich-ass tycoon, get a fancy mansion all built on lies, and then you forget your family." Her glare intensified. "How truly pathetic, Emma."
I pushed her back, my blood boiling. "Don't." I gritted my teeth, pointing a finger, conscious even in my anger not to raise my voice. "Don't, Emma. You're the one who left without a trace knowing full well Alicia would tell me to take your place." I reminded her coldly. "Leave. Before someone finds out."
"Leave?" She scoffed.
"You think you've got it all down now, don't you? Happily married that you forget how much we need this wedding."
I glared, putting distance between us. "Emma you left without a single word. If you have something to say, just say it."
Emma finally stepped back, and I could feel some of the tension in the room dissipate. "I tried calling," she said finally. "No response."
"I was in a family dinner."
"Father was moved to the hospital this morning. The years of exhaustion is finally taking its toll on Alicia. We need more money."
There it was.
I took a deep breath.
Somehow, they were convinced I had access to Brandon's safes.
"I'm sorry about Alicia... Really. But you have to give me some more time."
I wished she'd understand. The hall felt silent, and then I heard it—footsteps approaching, coming down the stairs.
"You have to go." I barely got the words out as I pushed the door open, shoving Emma outside, shutting the door and clicking the lock into place just as Brandon appeared at the head of the stairs.
He paused, his eyes narrowed. "Who were you talking to?"
“Nobody,” I said quickly, pressing my back against the door like that would make my sister go faster.
“I just… got caught up,” I added, knowing it sounded ridiculous. “Talking to myself.”
Brandon’s gaze was sharp. He didn’t look convinced.
He probably think I’m going crazy.
He let out a quiet sigh and started down the remaining steps, each one precise.
When he reached the bottom, he stopped directly in front of me. Close. I could see the coldness in his eyes, and my pulse spiked.
Then, in one swift motion, he pushed the door open. I stumbled backward, my back hitting him accidentally.
“S… sorry,” I stammered, stepping back slowly but then I tripped.
His hand came up instinctively, steadying me for half a second before he seemed to realize what he was doing and pulled away. That brief contact sent a jolt through me I was not prepared for.
He cleared his throat.
His eyes scanned the perimeter of the building.
“I didn’t marry a mad woman who talks to herself in the hall, Emma,” he said, his voice steady. “That wasn’t part of the contract.”
“I… It won’t happen again,” I whispered, bowing my head slightly. I had no idea what I was apologizing for, only that I was still standing, still intact.
He gave me one last glare as I turned to go. I let out a quiet breath, relieved Emma had managed to slip out in time.
But then he stopped.
He turned back slowly.
“Wait.”
I froze. “What?”
His eyes narrowed a little. “Whose scent is that?”
My heart jumped. “Scent? What do you mean?”
He looked around the hallway again, confused but focused. “Someone was definitely here. Who was it?”
- Writer
