Weekend?
1965 Words
As Sabrina Winters got out of bed the next morning to prepare for work, her gray eyes felt heavy from lack of sleep, but her heart felt even heavier.
She had barely slept a wink. She had tossed and turned all night, replaying her conversation with Leo in her head.
She still couldn’t believe she was actually considering marrying a man more than twice her age. Yet, a part of her mind kept whispering that the age gap wasn’t such a big deal—people did it all the time.
But what if this was the universe’s way of giving her a break? What if this was her only means of escaping a life of constant lack?
She hated herself for thinking about the financial benefits the marriage might bring, for thinking like a gold digger, and for even entertaining the idea of taking the easy way out of poverty.
By lunchtime, Sabrina texted Leo to inform him that she needed to see his boss and asked him to help her book an appointment. Afterward, she took a break from the clothing store where she worked and headed to Apex Corp, Mr—Bank’s company, which wasn’t very far from her workplace.
Standing in the lobby of Apex Corp, Sabrina suddenly felt out of place and less confident as she glanced at her clothes compared to what the people around her were wearing.
How could Mr. Bank want to marry someone like her when there were so many single and attractive women here?
Shaking her head, she pulled her phone out of her black Chanel bag—the only expensive fashion item she owned, a gift from Leo.
She dialed Leo’s number, and he picked up almost immediately.
“I don’t think I can do this,” she told him, her eyes scanning the grandiose surroundings.
“You don’t think you can do what? Marry him? Or see him as planned? If it’s the former, I’d applaud you now and ask you to forget it. If it’s the latter, I think it’s too late to change your mind since I already informed him you’re on your way, and he’s waiting to meet with you.”
“Thanks. Your encouragement was really helpful,” she muttered dryly. “I’m at the lobby. I’m coming up to your floor now.”
Taking a deep breath, Sabrina looked around one last time, mustered her courage, and headed toward the elevator.
Thankfully, she knew her way around, having once visited Leo here, so getting to Mr. Bank’s office was relatively easy.
Her heart raced as she stepped into the elevator alongside three other people. The ride felt too short, leaving her no time to calm her nerves before she reached her destination.
“Mrs. Bank is here,” Leo said with a teasing grin the moment he saw her. Sabrina rolled her eyes.
“Don’t call me that.”
“You’re five minutes late, and he doesn’t like that. Hurry,” Leo said, jerking his head toward the office door.
“Wish me luck,” Sabrina said, her nerves bubbling to the surface.
“Good luck.”
“Thanks,” she muttered, taking a deep breath before knocking twice on the door where her fate awaited her.
“Just go in,” Leo urged, and she pushed the door open and walked in.
The first thing Sabrina noticed as she stepped into the office was how spacious and elegant it was.
The smell of leather and polished wood lingered in the air, mingling with the faint aroma of coffee.
A bookshelf lined the wall to the right, filled with thick volumes and framed photographs.
Seated behind the imposing desk was Mr. Richard Bank. He rose as she entered, his presence commanding and self-assured.
He appeared to be in his late fifties, but she would have thought he was a decade younger if she didn't know better. His skin was lightly tanned, and his chiseled jawline gave him an air of unapproachability. His short, neatly combed hair was a mix of silver and dark strands, adding to his distinguished appearance.
His blue eyes, startlingly bright against his complexion, met hers with an intensity that made her want to look away, but she couldn’t. They were the kind of eyes that seemed to read more than just words—they seemed to see through her, weighing every action and inaction.
He was tall, and even in his crisp white shirt and navy blue suit, it was clear he had an athletic build. His broad shoulders and perfect posture exuded confidence without being overtly intimidating. A navy silk tie was knotted precisely at his neck, and his silver cufflinks glinted under the sunlight, streaming through the tall, floor-to-ceiling windows behind the massive desk.
“Miss Winters,” his deep and smooth voice carried an understated authority.
“Uh... Good morning. I’m sorry I’m late,” Sabrina managed, her voice embarrassingly shaky.
“Please, have a seat.” He gestured to the chair in front of his desk.
Sabrina nodded and crossed the room, feeling the luxurious carpet under her heels as she approached. Her legs felt as though they might give out at any moment, but she managed to sit without making a fool of herself.
Mr. Bank didn’t sit down immediately. He took a moment to adjust the cuff of his shirt, his movements deliberate, almost as though he were giving her time to collect herself. The leather creaked softly beneath him when he finally lowered himself into his chair.
“I’ve been told you’re here to discuss an important matter,” he said, folding his hands on the desk and leaning slightly forward. His gaze remained fixed on her, steady and faintly amused. “Let’s hear it.”
For a moment, Sabrina Winters forgot why she was there. His presence was overwhelming, and her carefully rehearsed words felt like they had slipped through her fingers. She took a deep breath, her hands gripping the strap of her bag as she forced herself to look him in the eye.
“I... I heard from my dad. So, I wanted to meet you before making a decision,” she started, her voice barely above a whisper.
His lips twitched, almost as if he was suppressing a smile. “That’s understandable,” he said calmly. “Take your time. I’m listening.”
There was something about his tone—firm but patient—that put her at ease, if only slightly. She glanced at the desk in front of him. It was impeccably organized, with only a slim black laptop, a leather-bound notebook, and a gold pen resting on top. Even the most minor details in his office seemed to reflect who he was: meticulous, composed, and undeniably powerful.
This man— the one who could very well become her husband was nothing like she had imagined.
Sabrina cleared her throat, gathering her thoughts. “I want to know if there is a particular reason why you wanted to marry me. I mean, why did it have to be me?”
“Is there a reason why it cannot be you?” he asked.
“You’re old enough to be my father.”
“Well, I am not your father.”
“What if I pay you off little by little? Within a year—no, six months—I would pay you all my father owes you.”
“I don’t see how you’re going to be able to get the money in that duration. So, as I have stated before, it’s either you or the house.”
“Why can’t you just allow me to pay you off little by little? Please do me this favor.”
“If I did such favors, I wouldn’t be the successful businessman I am today, would I?”
Without responding, Sabrina held his gaze for a while, hoping that his expression would soften again and he would change his mind.
Her chest tightened when it dawned on her that he wouldn’t change his mind. Leo had been right.
After a while, she let out a resigned sigh. “We can’t afford to lose our home, and since you won’t change your mind, I guess I’ll have to marry you. I need to know what you expect out of this marriage.”
He smiled. “No elaborate wedding ceremony for a start.”
“I beg your pardon?” she asked, taken aback by that.
“I have gotten married once and don’t see the need to do that again.”
“But I have never gotten married,” she cut in.
“Do you really want to have an elaborate wedding ceremony with me?” he asked, holding her gaze.
A knot formed in Sabrina’s stomach at the question. She had always wanted a big wedding ceremony where she would walk down the aisle with the man who loved and cherished her, but this wasn’t the case.
She couldn’t imagine herself smiling happily and waving at the crowd beside him, no matter how handsome and fit he looked.
“You’re right. I wouldn’t want that,” she admitted after a minute.
“Good. We can get it done this weekend, then.”
“Wait, what? Weekend?” she asked, her eyes wide with surprise.
“Yes.”
“Is there a reason for the haste?” she asked with a slight frown.
“Is there a reason to delay the inevitable?” he retorted.
She shook her head. “Uhm… no. It’s fine.”
“Good. You’d also need to quit your job at the departmental store,” he said, surprising her even more.
She hadn’t expected him to know much about her or where she worked, but then again, she figured a man like him would have looked into her by now.
“Why? You don’t expect me to be a full housewife and baby-making machine, do you?” she asked, attempting to sound bolder than she actually felt.
He raised a brow. “Do I need to spell it out to you? Did you really expect me to let you keep working there as a sales representative? The moment you become my wife, you will become a reflection of me, and as such, you need to occupy a prestigious office. I will give you a more befitting job at the company.”
Sabrina’s heart skipped a beat the moment she heard that. A more prestigious office equaled a more prestigious paycheck too, right?
“I will get paid for my job, right?” she asked a little too eagerly before she could stop herself.
His lips twitched with amusement. “Sure. You won’t have to worry about money,” he assured her.
She bit back her smile as she told herself that this wasn’t such a bad idea after all. He didn’t look so old. As a matter of fact, he looked really attractive and might make a good husband.
“All right. I will quit after we get married.”
“I’m afraid not. You need to quit at once. You have to prepare to move in…”
“Prepare?” she asked, wondering what he was talking about.
“Yes,” he said, looking her over. “You need a makeover, and you have to spend the next couple of days being polished.”
“There is nothing wrong with me,” she said defensively, her pride wounded.
“I never said otherwise. But you can look even better than this. Don’t you think so?” he asked, and she was smart enough not to argue with that.
“I guess,” she murmured.
“Good. I’ll send my assistant to you tomorrow, and he will handle it all.”
- Writer
