Chapter Three
1104 Words
PRISCILLA'S POV
Unlike the way I expected a celebrity to act, Don Lorenzo wasn't nonchalant. Or maybe he was a mere lookalike. He insisted on knowing why I was crying, and I couldn't bring myself to tell him about Michael, so I told him it was because of my sick mum.
“What are the doctors saying?”
“They're trying their best but I need money to afford all her medications,” I sniffed, “It's really tiring, my brother's tuition fees… everything is just hanging on me.”
“How much do you need?” He took a sip from his glass of vodka.
That was so sudden! He didn't even ask to see my mum's or let me prove I wasn't some sort of scam.
“I…I don't have an exact amount but an estimate should be eight thousand.”
“Only?” His eyes twitched.
“Yeah… like I said, I don't know the exact amount. Besides, I don't have a penny right now.”
“How then have you been taking care of these bills?”
I looked away from his piercing blue eyes. How do I tell him that it has been my boyfriend all along? And that might just lead to him knowing that I was crying because of a dude who got my best friend pregnant.
“Hello?” Don Lorenzo called, drifting me back to reality.
“It has just been a hell of a ride. I mean, I do menial jobs but it's barely enough.”
“So which do you need? A job or money?” His eyes narrowed.
“A job would obviously get me money so I need a job.”
He nodded.
“Then I have a job for you.”
“Really?” I wiped my face with the back of my hands.
“Yes, Miss…”
“Priscilla,” I said without hesitation. “My name is Priscilla Briggs.”
He leaned forward. “Are you sure you want a job, Miss Priscilla? I mean, I could give you the eight thousand to go sort your bills.”
I paused.
What kind of job does he want to offer? Good lord… it better be that he wants to hire me as a maid so I could get to steal a glance at his handsome face every single day.
“Yes,” I nodded. “I need the job.”
“Marry me, then.” He leaned back.
My eyes widened. “What?”
“The job is to be my wife for a year.”
I swallowed, unable to utter a thing.
“We both will sign a contract of discretion, get married by tomorrow and you get paid. I guess that will be enough time for you to save up enough money for your mum, brother and also yourself.”
Getting married tomorrow? Michael will think I've been cheating on him the whole time?
“Must it be tomorrow?”
“Well, that's the job description.”
He picked up his glass.
“Drink up, Miss Priscilla. Your eyes are getting wet again.”
I sniffed and took a sip of my wine.
“This marriage might just be the breakthrough you might have always wanted.”
Should I just tell him that I'm in a relationship? Although Michael cheated, my getting married tomorrow wouldn't just sound right.
“Priscilla?” His fingers brushed the tip of my nose as waved at my face and I blinked.
“I… I don't… I just need to calm my head right now, Sir,” I stood up and walked out of the bar as I felt the tears coming again. I can't let him see me crying and suspect that I'm crying for something else.
‘What are you doing Priscilla?’ I muttered to myself but I kept on walking towards my car inthe cold, my breath getting heavier with every move. I just walked out on a man that I've been dreaming of meeting. Not just me, almost all the girls in City X have a crush on Don Lorenzo.
A part of me wanted to go back inside but what would I tell him was the reason I walked out on him in the first place? That I panicked?
Also, if I go back in there, it might just… oh good lord…
I paced. My heart was beating faster as I struggled to practice my breathing exercises, but my airways seemed to get narrower with every struggle. I glanced at my bag inside the car; my inhaler was in there but my hands had grown rigid and I could not unlock the car. I held my chest, still gasping for air as my legs began to fail me and I was losing sight of everything around me.
All of a sudden, a firm arm grabbed me snatched the key from my hand and unlocked the car.
With all the strength I had, I dashed into the car and grabbed my bag but Don Lorenzo snatched it from me immediately and pulled out my inhaler.
He laid me gently on the driver's seat and pressed the canister into my mouth. Slowly, my airways felt free, again.
I inhaled deeply and slowly pushed his hand away from my mouth.
“Thank you.” I sighed in relief.
“Are you okay?” He asked amid gentle pants and roaming glances.
“Yeah. I'm fine. Thank you.”
“You know you should have asked me to fetch the inhaler for you, instead of risking yourself in this cold.” He pulled his head out of the car.
I nodded, pulling myself into an upright sitting position.
“Are you also asthmatic?”
He scoffed.
“No.”
“You knew how to use the inhaler,” I pointed out.
“My sister had asthma,” he said, looking away.
I nodded.
“You need to go home and rest, Priscilla.”
“Yeah. Thank you.”
He reached for his pocket and handed me a card he pulled out of it.
“In case your inhaler gets far away from you again,” he smiled and I felt a thousand butterflies fluff in my belly.
This is someone who barely smiles at cameras. Who would have thought that his smile would be this beautiful?
I took the card and watched him walk back casually into the bar, like he wasn't the billionaire real estate magnate or could I be mistaken?
I glanced at the card.
“Good lord!” I gasped. I just had a conversation with Don Lorenzo…
- Writer
