CHAPTER TWO:A CRAZY IDEA
1861 Words
Isabella sluggishly woke up from her bed, the sound of someone rummaging sent signals to her brain urging her to wake up.
She stood up from her bed half asleep, Slowly reaching for her phone.
"7 a.m. already? My alarm failed again," she sighed softly. "I need to take a shower," she mumbled to herself, slowly making her way to the bathroom.
"Wake up, sleepyhead," a melodious and vibrant voice echoed in the living room. It was Stacy, who had the habit of being the first one up and making a lively entrance.
Isabella quickly descended the stairs to the living room after taking a shower and getting dressed, skillfully tying her hair into a ponytail.
She was dressed in a vibrant red short dress that clung to her figure, revealing her thighs and curves.
Isabella Armstrong, a stunning woman in her thirties, possessed caramel-toned skin and long, dark hair that enhanced her beauty.
"Good morning, Sleeping Beauty," Stacy greeted, setting the plates carefully on the dining table.
"Morning, Stacy," Isabella responded, pulling out a chair for herself at the table. "What's on the breakfast menu?" she asked while stretching her arms and rolling her eyes.
"I've prepared spaghetti with whipped cream, your favorite," Stacy replied enthusiastically. Isabella smiled and gave a thumbs-up.
"Come on, let's dig in," Stacy motioned, taking her seat at the dining table.
"What's the deal with those blind dates?" Stacy inquired, rolling her eyes.
"One word for it: 'disaster.' I'm genuinely not interested in dating, relationships, or marriage.
I'm exhausted by my dad's insistence on arranging these blind dates," Isabella replied, her expression turning somber.
"Before my mom passed away, she left a lot of properties in my name, but my stepmom won't allow me to do anything with them unless I bring a man home.
She's been pestering me about grandchildren," she smirked. " Like a man is all that defines me" she added"
"Come on, Isabella, try to look on the bright side. You're not getting any younger," Stacy continued, but Isabella chimed in.
"I'm perfectly fine without a man. Right now, my focus is on growing my business and reaching a wider audience. Love and I don't exactly see eye to eye," Isabella stated firmly.
"But you do know you need those properties to expand and become the successful woman you've always dreamed of," Stacy reminded her. "And it's not too early to start thinking about starting a family of your own."
"I'm getting married soon, Ella, and you know we can't live together anymore. The sooner you find a man, the sooner you can get your own place in your father's penthouse.
Are you staying with me just to prove a point about being independent?" Stacy teased.
"Must you always remind me of how messed up I am?" Isabella asked, clearly disappointed.
"I'm sorry, girl, I'm just saying," Stacy tried to comfort her.
"I know, that's why I'm trying, Stacy, going on all these boring dates. I'm just so tired," Isabella exclaimed.
"You have one tonight, remember? Try to give him a chance.
That temper of yours can't keep a man," Stacy teased.
"Smile more often; don't always wear that stern face. You'll see everything falling into place," Stacy encouraged.
Isabella buried her head in her hands. "I wish I could convince someone to pretend to be my man so I can get what's rightfully mine," she muttered.
Then, she had a sudden realization. "Wait a second!" Isabella exclaimed, drawing Stacy's attention away from clearing the table.
"What if... what if!" Isabella said, pacing back and forth at the dining table. Stacy stood there, trying to make sense of the whole situation. "What if what, Ella?" Stacy questioned.
"What if I convinced a man to pretend to be my fiancé, then convinced my parents that I'm normal, got my properties back, and boom! Problem solved," she exclaimed, twirling around.
"I'll even pay him handsomely," she added excitedly.
"No way! That's crazy. What if things go wrong?" Stacy asked, not buying into the idea.
"What could possibly go wrong, killjoy? It's not like Dad's going to force us to get married," Isabella retorted.
"What are you blabbering about?" Stacy asked as she cleared the table and headed to the sink. "Snap out of it and get ready for your blind date," Stacy advised.
"Whatever," Isabella responded while heading upstairs.
Isabella sat alone in a hotel, anxiously adjusting her appearance with a quick touch-up of lipstick and powder.
She was dressed in a vibrant purple floral short gown paired with sleek black heels, her legs crossed as she waited for yet another potentially disastrous date.
Her attempts to find a suitable partner through online dating had often ended in frustration, with either heated arguments or harsh remarks exchanged during first encounters.
Sitting in silence, waiting for the man she had arranged to meet online, she couldn't help but feel fatigued by the whole process. She whispered to herself,
"My desperation seems to have overtaken me," and added with a hint of disappointment,
"Isabella Armstrong doesn't usually wait for anyone, let alone a man, in a purple dress."
A few minutes later, a man in a sharp black suit approached her. His disheveled hair framed a face that lit up with a warm smile.
"Are you Isabella?" he asked politely. "Yes, I am," Isabella replied, mustering a forced smile.
"It's nice to meet you. I'm Mark from the dating site," Mark explained, extending his hand for a handshake.
"Nice to meet you too," Isabella responded, reaching out for the handshake but quickly retracting her hand.
"Please, have a seat," she offered.
"So, you're Mark Maclaim?" Isabella inquired, attempting to initiate a conversation.
"Yes, baby," Mark replied, winking at her. Isabella paused for a moment, taking in the man sitting in front of her. She couldn't help but find his fashion choices rather unconventional.
"So, what do you do?" she asked, making another attempt at conversation.
"Well, my mom owns a chicken store where we sell fried chicken. I've been helping out there," he answered, signaling for the waiter. "Can we get some French fries with ketchup and also Macaroni and cheese?"
"Is that all?" the waiter inquired. "Yes, please," Mark replied, beginning to unbutton his suit jacket.
"You didn't even ask me what I wanted," Isabella expressed her dissatisfaction with a disappointed look on her face.
"Trust me, what I ordered is perfect for this evening!" Mark replied with enthusiasm.
He suddenly stopped and complimented her, "What's a beautiful woman like you doing on a dating website?
You could leave a man breathless!" He laughed loudly.
At this point, Isabella was thoroughly disappointed. "Excuse me, please. I need to use the restroom,"
she said as she stood up, grabbed her purse, and walked uncomfortably toward the restroom, her head hung low in embarrassment.
She occasionally glanced over her shoulder to see if Mark was watching. Every time she caught him staring, she forced out a smile and quickened her pace.
In her mind, she couldn't help but wonder, "Where did my dad find this man? I need to get out of here."
Isabella sneaked out of the restroom, glancing left and right to ensure no one was watching. She rushed toward the entrance door without looking back. In her haste, she accidentally bumped into a man carrying a briefcase, causing both of them to collide and drawing attention to herself.
The young man seemed unfazed.
He gazed at Isabella while straightening his blazer, and another man came running over. "Sir, are you okay?" he asked, helping the man dust off his clothes.
Annoyed by the situation, Isabella smirked and said, "You know, you should apologize." She then pointed at her purse on the ground and added, "And you should pick up my purse."
The man she collided with ignored her and motioned for the other man to lead the way as he followed behind.
Annoyed by his manners, Isabella picked up her purse from the ground and flipped it toward the man, hitting him on the head.
He quickly turned to see who had thrown it, holding his head in surprise."Young woman, are you nuts?" He asked facing Isabella.
"I'm trying to teach you some manners," Isabella remarked as she walked toward him, gently retrieving her purse, and then swiftly making her way to the entrance door.
"Sir Williams, are you all right?" his secretary inquired. Williams, still flustered, asked, "Who is that peculiar woman?" as he proceeded to the VIP room.
"Why did we choose this hotel?" Williams questioned, as if he had forgotten the reason entirely.
"Sir, our clients prefer this hotel," his secretary replied.
Williams shot him a stern look. "I know that; you don't need to remind me," he retorted, his hand resting on his head.
"What did she have in that purse?" he wondered aloud, letting out a small yelp.
"Sir, our clients will arrive shortly. Let's prepare the documents," Oscar suggested.
"That's fine. Let's get this over with," Williams agreed, settling at his desk. "What time is my date tonight?" he asked, his palms clasped together.
"9 pm tonight at the Rousellet Resort, third floor, seat 9," his secretary responded, reaching for the carefully arranged documents on his desk.
"Great, what did you say her name was again?" Williams inquired.
"Isabella Armstrong," Oscar replied
._____ ___________ ________. _______. ___ ___. _____ _ _______
"
"What a terrible way to begin my day," Isabella grumbled as she made her way to her office's entrance.
"Who goes on a date in the morning? Why did I agree to this?" she ranted to herself.
"Good morning, ma," her secretary greeted, offering to carry her bags. Isabella handed her bags over and proceeded to her office. As she settled into her workspace, she asked, "What's on my schedule?" She twirled in her chair.
"You have a meeting with the board of directors in the next hour, and our business partners from Asia are in town. You'll be having lunch with them," her secretary replied. Isabella nodded.
"Ma, you should see this," her secretary said, walking over. She approached and showed Isabella the stock price equilibrium.
"The demand for our products has decreased significantly," her secretary informed her.
"That's not good," Isabella sighed heavily. After a while, her phone rang. "Hey, Stacy," Isabella greeted as she answered.
"What's up, girl?" Stacy replied. "I know you're at work, so I'll get straight to the point. I've set you up for a date tonight."
"What?" Isabella exclaimed, her face showing her dissatisfaction.
"Let me explain," Stacy pleaded. "This guy is incredibly wealthy. I was surprised to see him on a dating website.
I need you to do me this favor just one last time. Just go meet him; it might work out."
"No way, Stacy. I'm not going on another blind date," Isabella protested.
"Please," Stacy pleaded in a soft, persuasive tone, trying to win her over.
"You sure know how to get your way, Stacy, but this really is the last time," Isabella replied. "What's the venue?"
"It's the Rousellet Resort, third floor, seat 9. The time is 9 pm," Stacy answered before hanging up
- Writer
