Joshua Wilkins: Arranged Marriage

Chapter 5: Lydia

“I’m getting married.” I slumped into the chair, burying my face in my hands.

The music at the Howling Duck was loud, but at our usual corner table, it was quieter. The drink in front of me wasn’t nearly strong enough to make me forget about dinner.

Forget about those eyes. His muscular body. The surprised look he gave when he realized I wasn’t some socialite. Forget about his deep rumbling voice. His soft lips.

“Shut your mouth!” Kathleen looked at me as if I was about to burst. “But you’re not even twenty-five yet!” Her shining blue eyes looked right at me, sharing the color with Joshua but not even close to resembling him. Kathleen was the epitome of fun, she was everything my life wasn’t. Her dirt blonde hair fell in waves around her, while she wore a worn-down white t-shirt that once had an image of Daffy Duck on it. She was the highlight of my days, the sunshine after a long and cloudy day. “Who is it?”

“Joshua Wilkins.”

Her mouth flew open before she grabbed her phone. Soon a picture of him was shoved in my face as she exclaimed, “The tech king?!”

The picture of him was perfect, taken at some gala or other party where a tuxedo was necessary. His chestnut-colored hair was combed back, styled to perfection, making him even more intimidating. His chiseled jaw and cheekbones framed his face, and with the gaze in his eyes, he looked unapproachable. Pure perfection.

“I have to move in with him,” I mumbled, thinking of all the stuff I had to pack. I had to store a lot of it somewhere and terminate my lease. “This isn’t fair.”

“You should talk!” Kathleen started looking at other pictures of him while she sipped her strawberry mojito. “There are worse fates out there.”

“I don’t want a husband,” I said, downing one of the ten tequila shots in front of us, “I can be my own rich man.”

“And just keep f*****g Max in the meantime?” One of her slightly colored eyebrows peaked as she looked up at me from her phone. “You don’t even want to try to fall in love?”

“He isn’t the type for love,” I answered, not really knowing if it was true.

As far as I knew, Joshua Wilkins had always been a billionaire playboy, with a model, singer, actor, or some other famous pretty woman by his side, but never the same one more than once.

“But now here you are,” she held out her hands towards me, making me roll my eyes.

“We don’t live in some romance novel, Kat. He’s not going to change, and I’m not going to make him change.” I took my gin and tonic, taking a small sip before continuing, “We will get married, and if it works out, we will do whatever society expects. I’ll even give him an heir at some point.” Which was basically the only thing women were good for here.

“Like that would be such a task,” she grinned at me. “He is drop-dead gorgeous! I would personally love to lick every inch of that body!”

Another roll of my eyes. Hopefully they wouldn’t get stuck or anything like that. Kat had always been a naughty girl. For as long as I’ve known her, she has never turned down a s****l encounter nor refrained from talking about said encounter afterward. Just as much as I loved my job, Kat loved s*x.

“That’s basically my fiancé you’re talking about.” I leaned back in my chair and crossed my arms over my chest, a smirk playing on my lips. “If anybody is licking him, it will be me.”

She laughed, her beautiful Kathleen laugh, where she would throw her head back and the sound would travel freely from her lungs all the way through the bar. The laugh that made men weak in their knees, the laugh that made them throw down their wallets, and the laugh that made them follow her around for as long as she allowed.

“Please,” she put her hands on the table, making a serious expression so I knew she wasn’t kidding, “tell me all about it when you finally do.”

“I will,” I winked at her, which she returned in just a few seconds. “So, how do you feel about continuing this party at my place? With a lot of boxes and bubble wrap?”

“White wine?” Her one brow peaked once again.

“Plenty.”

**

By Sunday afternoon, most of my things were packed. I sat on my bed looking around my bedroom, filled with boxes and bags packed with clothes.

I took the little card from my dresser, the card that read: Joshua Wilkins, CEO Techins. And then his phone number. The question was, had he given me his work phone number or his home number? I would guess the latter.

Me: Hey, I’m all packed up. Would it fit into your schedule if I moved in tomorrow? - Lydia Conner.

I threw my phone away, almost embarrassed by the text I had just sent. "Would it fit into your schedule?" God, I already hated myself. Kat had almost talked it up, talking about how great it would be for me, and that maybe—just maybe—Joshua would be the one for me. I doubted it.

My phone pinged, making me reach for it.

Joshua: If you’re all packed up, I can send over a car?

My eyebrows shot up. Now?! Apparently, he didn’t want to wait. It would be nice to get unpacked again before the weekdays set in, but waking up at a new place first thing Monday morning sounded horrible.

However, I could say that about waking up there any time and any day. And I would probably keep making excuses, keep finding reasons that that day would not be great.

Me: Sure, I’ll gather the most important things and get down.

I also sent him my address and started packing up the elevator with my bags filled with clothes and toiletries. Taking my work bag filled with my computer, some manuscripts, and my physical calendar.

Leon helped me load his car, and soon another car showed up. The older, dark-skinned man in the car introduced himself as Robert and apparently knew Leon already.

We drove through New York, down the busy streets and boulevards. Even on a Sunday afternoon, it was packed. It was always packed. We stopped in front of a big building that had a classical look, like it was built in the nineteenth century. It stood right across from the entrance to Central Park, which buzzed with activity in this lovely sunny weather in late March.

Both Leon and Robert helped me unload my bags, and the doorman helped carry them inside. Everyone who passed by the building looked at me like I was some kind of homeless person, trying to overtake the fine building.

The off-white facade towered over me. Giving off an almost menacing feeling, I looked to the very top of the building, feeling a dreadful feeling, like this is where the horror film watchers would yell at me to turn around. The blood-red awning shadowed my stuff from the sun, and with the gold letters told me exactly whose building it was. Christian Howard Co., the city’s biggest property company in New York.

“What time tomorrow, Miss Conner?” Leon’s voice traveled through my mind, making me turn around to look at him.

“Let’s get a slow start,” I smiled at him, “I’ll be ready to go at eight.”

“Very well, miss.” He nodded before getting in the car and driving away.

Robert smiled at me, nodded as a farewell, and leaned against the car. The doorman introduced himself as Harry, which suited him perfectly. He helped me with the bags and told me that Mr. Wilkins had called down to let them know I would be arriving. Of course, he didn’t offer any help himself.

Not a prince in shining armor, that’s for sure. I rode the elevator all the way to the top, the twenty-first floor. Of course, he owned the top floor; it would have been baffling if he owned a small townhouse or a mansion somewhere.

I imagined some type of bachelor pad. Filled with leather, mostly dark and black colors. The technology would be top-notch, the best of the best, and the newest you could find. I didn’t anticipate much character or many personal items.

The doors dinged as they opened up. There wasn’t even a hallway, it just opened right into his apartment. The sweetest little thing stood in front of me. She could not have been more than five feet tall, in a flowery dress and an apron with ruffles on it. Her chocolate-brown eyes and gray hair smiled at me, giving me comfort.

“Welcome, Miss Conner!” Her voice was laced with a heavy accent, which I wanted to place in South America somewhere.

“Thank you,” I couldn’t help but smile back at the little lady.

“Oh my, you’ve brought a lot of stuff! We thought you would just bring the necessary.” She immediately started pulling my stuff out of the elevator.

I tried helping her, but in the tornado that she was, I only stood in her way. She introduced herself as Sasha; she was the maid, the cook, and everything else I could ever want.

“I’m sorry,” I smiled apologetically at her, “I’m not known for traveling light.” I could see it, I could see the madness. The twelve bags, two suitcases, another vanity bag just as big as the other bags, and my work bag. It was a lot.

“Sasha?” The question came from a rumbling voice that came into the big open space.

I turned around again and saw him standing there in the middle of the room. His hair a little tousled, in just a white button-down with the sleeves rolled up. He looked amazing in the tailored pants that clung to his body like a second layer of skin. In his hand was a tablet of some sort.

“Yes, sir?” Sasha folded her hands before her, smiling angelically at her employer.

“When Lydia gets here—”

“She’s here,” she smiled, which led him to look up from the tablet.

His piercing eyes met mine, and just like yesterday, they had an unnerving way of looking all the way into my soul, like he could read my mind, feel my feelings.

“I’m here.” I suddenly felt underdressed. I didn’t always wear my formal wear, and certainly not when I was moving. Wearing a grey hoodie and skinny jeans suddenly made me feel incredibly underdressed.

“I can see.” Something tugged at his mouth, while his eyes glanced over me. “I thought you would pack the necessary?” He looked over the bags when a glint of mischief entered his eyes. “All of that can’t be necessary?”

“I can’t see how you qualify to decide what is and isn’t necessary.” I crossed my arms, letting my weight gather on my left hip.

“No, of course not.” He locked the tablet and put it on a table that doubled as a bar. “You want a tour of the place?”

He folded his arms behind his back. Making the buttons in his shirt stretch underneath his muscular torso. I looked back at Sasha, who smiled lovingly at me. “Sure.”

He introduced the room I stepped into as the common room. It was big and open, including both the kitchen, a dining station, and a sofa group. The walls were white, and the high ceiling had decorations, which gave it the old and majestic look like the outside had. The eastern wall was made of windows, which also showed a long balcony, perfect for a morning brunch while the sun rose on the horizon.

The kitchen was modern with all the necessities and appliances you could wish for. The cabinets were dark wood, and the countertop had a black marble look. It was a two-way street, which meant there was counter space on both sides, but the counter extended into a bar counter, which was where the tablet now lay, waiting for its owner again.

The kitchen ended in the dining room area, which consisted of a big plank table that easily hosted eight. Chic chairs sat around the table in a black leather look, which only boosted my earlier assumptions.

He described the rooms and how he ended on that particular way of designing it, which actually sounded like he cared a little about it.

I was pleasantly surprised when I saw the sofas, which were made of fabric and not leather. They still had a dark leather look and were pointed at the humongous flat-screen TV. It looked comfortable, and I actually wanted a movie night on those couches.

We went down a hallway that had six doors. He pointed out one of the doors as the common bathroom, which had a shower, a toilet, and a sink. Nothing extravagant but served the purpose. He showed me his office, which was so dark and gloomy I couldn’t fathom how he could get anything done.

“In here is my bedroom,” he lingered a little, “I didn’t want to assume, so the guest bedroom is also ready for you. However, it could also be remade into an office for you if you would rather want that.”

I could feel tingles moving down my spine. Share a bed. It would happen sometime, I wasn’t stupid. I knew I would like an office, I knew I would love the privacy of my own bedroom. “I would rather want the office.”

He nodded, clearly surprised by my decision. He then continued and showed me our bedroom. Our bedroom. That happened fast. It was the complete opposite of the common room. The walls had a dark grey color, giving it a solemn appearance. In the middle of the room against the back wall was a king-size bed, with four posts and a big headboard. All made from expensive wood. The sheets were satin and were just as black as his soul might be.

That thought made heat crawl onto my cheeks.

I walked further into the room and saw the big closet on the right side of the bedroom. When I walked inside, there were suit after suit hanging and waiting to be worn. Dress shirts in different colors and shades. Drawers filled with ties, watches, and appropriate men’s jewelry.

“I can give up half, no more.” I looked behind me to find him leaning on the door frame into the walk-in closet.

“Of course,” my eyes found a beautiful navy blue suit, “we wouldn’t want to hurt their feelings.” My hand reached up and touched the soft, expensive fabric on the Brioni suit. “I like this one.”

I could feel him move behind me. “I don’t think I’ve ever worn that one.” I could feel him—his body heat—right behind me. His gaze falling on the suit in front of me. “Sasha can reorganize it quickly.”

“Sure,” I removed my hand from the suit before turning around. Without heels on, he was almost a foot taller than me.

His blue eyes found mine again, and another feeling flew forward in me. He was so breathtakingly handsome it hurt.

He stepped back and let me out. With quick strides, I found myself back in the bedroom and steered right into the bathroom.

The black marble tiles filled the room; instead of white color breaking the black, there were gold streaks. It looked luxurious. The big bathtub stood on a pedestal with its black color and golden feet. The shower in the other end was enclosed by glass, making it completely see-through. The large counter continued in the black and gold theme and revealed two sinks.

“You like the dark colors.”

“Yes.” It was short, precise, and enough. I didn’t need him to elaborate because I got it; it suited him perfectly.

“It looks nice.” He didn’t answer, he didn’t thank me, because it wasn’t necessary.

He took me further on the tour. Showed me the guest room and promised it would be an office for me by the end of the week. All I had to do was send some aesthetic pictures to the decorator and he would fulfill my wishes.

There was even a small home gym. Of course there was! It housed a treadmill, training bike, some simple machines, and free weights. One side was filled with windows, the other was a row of mirrors.

The penthouse had everything you could possibly want. This was going to be just fine, I knew it. I hoped it.