chapter 3
1024 Words
Frank's POV
It's been five minutes already.
One of the things I dread the most is being late. It actually bothers me.
I'm leaving in five minutes if I remain here and she doesn't show up. The time I am wasting here is enough to accomplish a lot of stuff in the office.
I took a breath and glanced back toward the restaurant door, where I had been waiting for the last 10 or so minutes. I can't just stop wondering how change will be over the next months.
I interpreted it incorrectly at first.
learning about the engagement and the impending marriage needed in order for me to inherit my grandfather's construction business.
That elderly guy purposefully did this because he knew I would never be married. I am furious since my father hasn't told me all this time.
I wasn't coerced into coming here.
I just believed that seeing the person I would be marrying in a few months would be a beautiful notion.
Even if I detest the idea of getting engaged when I'm old enough to find the woman of my dreams, I need her.
My granddad chose her. It's evident that her mother thinks highly of her based on her effusive remarks about what a nice daughter she is.
That way, marrying her shouldn't be too difficult. We'd tie the knot. It's not necessary for us to be in love. Since my parents didn't consider this before tying the knot, getting married for love shouldn't provide any difficulties.
I'm becoming more and more frustrated and losing interest in finishing this garbage the more times I find myself sitting alone in this lonely space.
So be it if this is all a ruse to get me married. Why can't I locate someone on my own? When we have to leave or go to an event, I don't want a spoiled brat who won't respect time.
It is obvious that the lady I am engaged to is pampered and indifferent to time.
Already, I detest that mindset.
When I can be informed when I should get married in order to inherit the business, what precisely is the point of this betrothal?
All I have to do is choose one girl to marry out of all the females on my table.
To be honest, this is ridiculous!
I get up quickly, grab my phone, and start to leave as the guard at the entrance throws open the transparent door, letting a woman inside. I feel a twinge of rage.
I wouldn't describe the way she appeared as ridiculous.
Certainly not who I was anticipating. I immediately assumed she was a spoiled brat since my mother called her a sophisticated, attractive woman.
This tracksuit, f***Is it? I gaze at her as she gets closer, furrowing my brow in perplexity.
Who goes on a date with a guy they will soon marry and dresses alike?
She is ridiculous in every way.
It's likely that her poor makeup and inappropriate accessories contribute to her lack of beauty.
Will I be joining a clown in marriage?
What on earth is this?
This alone would be enough to drive me crazy if I wasn't already.
She jerks me out of my daydream and makes me angry with a bashful "Hey" wave when she's nearby.
I can't seem to put words together, perhaps because I'm angry. My facial expression said it all.
I realize that this is planned when she chooses to disregard it. I don't think someone like her should ignore the look on my face.
She should be here because she is impressing me and not doing anything else.
It seems that there are others who share my concerns about this involvement. She knows this too, and the only way she can get even with her parents and me is to wear a clown's costume for our first date.
I make sure she's the one I came for by blinking numerous times, and then I growl until I can communicate again. "What the hell is this?"
Her bashful grin disappears and is replaced with a knitted brow. Her conduct and wardrobe choices indicate that she has changed from having a timid to a confident persona.
"What are you talking about?"
She responds innocently, but her expression suggests otherwise.
She is not a helpless victim. She is aware of what I'm discussing.
Rather than yelling at her and releasing my bottled-up rage, I slumped down in the seat and tried to remain composed.
She is essential to me.
Her mother finds her appealing. Even though Grandfather is long dead and gone, Father would never defy his wishes. Everyone wants me to get hitched. I have no idea what I can say to them to make things any different.
For them, this betrothal is very significant.
To my grandfather. Father would never bring it up now if it wasn't. He would have advised me to look for a female on my own.
What would be the benefit of chasing after my father after becoming enraged with this foolish girl?
Nothing.
I shake my head once again; this just will not do. My fury is out of control. I want to yell at the top of my lungs. Firstly, for arriving late and not making the trip worthwhile, not to mention wearing such an idiotic outfit.
Is she without shame?
She settles into the seat across from me and smiles again before I can think of a response.
It's a hoax.
She drops her little pocketbook on the table between us and reaches her right hand for a handshake, saying, "Hello, my name is Selina James."
I keep my eyes fixed on her face. She seems humorous, and if this had been done by my sister instead of the person I had found out I would be marrying, I'm sure I would have laughed out.
It is disturbing to know that she is intentionally doing this.
I fold my arms and lean back without grasping her hand; she looks disappointed and lets go of my hand.
It's also a fake.
They get together!
Ego meets Crazy.
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