CHAPTER 4
1706 Words
“What the hell are you doing here?” I glared up at him, my hands on my hips.
For a second, I thought he looked pleased to see me, but I must have misinterpreted his expression because it had disappeared as soon as I thought it had come.
“Emery Rochester, fancy seeing you here.” He leaned forward, one hand casually stuffed in his pocket.
He's Uncle Lex?!
Even in a plain white t-shirt and jeans, he looked like he just walked out of vogue.
I hated him more for that.
"I wish I could say the same for you." I wasted no time in saying my displeasure raw and naked.
“I thought you disappeared off the face of the earth.” He brushed past me to enter inside.
“What?”
What did he mean by that?
Just then, Eloise came down, a sleeping Sophie in her arms.
“Oh, you're here. Emery, This is my older brother, Alexander. Alexander, this is -”
“I know her quite well, El.” He said, his piercing gaze on me.
I scoffed. “You wish.”
Eloise's eyes flitted between us amusingly. “You two know each other?”
“This is the lady I told you about.” He provided.
Eloise’s face scrunched up, “the lady…but you said she—ohh.” Her mouth rounded in realization.
I looked between them, lost.
“Emery is the ‘unkempt, dirty-minded lady your biggest investor has taken a liking to’?” Eloise said the rather offending statement with her fingers in air quotes, albeit I found the fact that Mr Gonzalez liked me gratifying.
“Dirty-minded?” I sent Xander an icy glare, my hands balled in a fist.
He glanced dryly at my balled fists, “Cute.”
My nose flared, “Is that all you think of me after I saved your arrogant ass?”
He ignored my question as he sized me up. “Did you miss your way to the zoo?”
I was wearing a furry monkey-themed onesie with its eared hoodie over my head. I saw it at the mall when I went to shop for some clothes, and I thought it was cute. In fact, I got the same for Sophie, and she was in it right now.
Hearing him demean my choice of clothing did little to help my brewing anger. I was so furious I could s**t fumes.
“I despise you from the bottom of my heart.”
"That will change soon, I promise you." He had the nerve to smirk at me.
“Guys, hold on,” Eloise flapped her hands, preventing my snarky comeback.
We both snapped our eyes to her as if suddenly remembering there was someone else in the room.
“Do you mean the same lady you've been searching for this past week is Emery who has been at my place?”
Searching for who?
“Uh?” I frowned as Xander nodded.
“About that El, give us a moment alone, please.”
“I'll call grandpa and tell him we can't come today. You have a lot to gist me…both of you.” She waved a finger between us and left.
“I'd rather eat worms than discuss anything with you.” I said to Xander.
He proceeded to royally ignore me. "Have a seat."
I huffed and sat despite the overwhelming urge to walk away. I wanted to correct the wrong impression he had of me, and I hate to admit it, but I was also curious to hear what he had to say.
“Fate seems to be on our side seeing as we found each other in the most unlikely place.”
"Fate? We? Are you high?" I let out a very unladylike snort; I actually shuddered at the sound.
“No, I'm not.” He blinked.
I met his eyes with a dry expression.
"I'll go straight to the point as we don't have much time on our side," I glared at him. "Miss Emery Burberry Rochester– your middle name is rather interesting–" Another glare was the response to his unsolicited opinion.
How does he even know my middle name?
“–Be my wife for a year.”
He was so audible that I just couldn't doubt my hearing.
“Did you drink?” I sniffed the air.
“Again, no.”
Then, he must be crazy.
“No, I'm not.” He replied, making me realize I'd said it out loud.
“After your very convincing display of affection to me, Mr Gonzalez has become really fond of you and he has not-so-subtly hinted that he was expecting an invitation card to our wedding thrice.”
"So?" That was my response.
“He emailed me, he's not playing. I suspect the reason he's been holding off signing our deal is you, infact.”
“So?” I still didn't see the need for his earlier…statement, if I could call it that.
He huffed in frustration. “How are you not getting the point?”
“Because there is none! Tell him we broke up or something.”
“And have him think that I'm irresponsible and can't hold on to one relationship? As if the many rumours aren't doing enough damage already. No, thank you.”
I stood up defiantly, “Look, I think I get the point. You're trying to secure a big deal and think we have to fake a relationship to impress Mr Gonzalez. But I really can't help you, I'm going through so much right now and I'm still trying to piece my life back together.”
“You may not know it, but I'll only bring bad press, which I'm sure is bad for your already soiled reputation. Besides, you said some really mean things to me all because of a misunderstanding. So, no. I'm not interested in helping you.”
I proceeded to walk away, but what he said next made me freeze.
“I'll pay you two million dollars monthly for a year.”
I blinked rapidly after what seemed like hours. "That's…that's a lot of money."
I’d sat back down, carefully doing the calculations in my head, partially wondering if I hadn't heard wrong.
Two million dollars monthly totaled twenty-four million…money I was desperately in need of. Heck, I didn't even need an iota of that.
"Is that enough to change your mind?" He drawled like he didn't just offer to pay me someone else's entire life salary in a year.
“What about the things I said? The reasons-”
“Let me worry about that, Miss Rochester.”
“All you have to do is accept my offer. And while you may feel the amount is rather exorbitant, I think otherwise. Being my fake wife for a year will come with its fair share of hurdles, believe me. And I've seen your acting skills, so if you also pull this off for a year, then that amount is fair.”
Another minute passed.
“Give me time to…give it a thought?” I half-shrugged. “It's all too much to take in.”
“Two days.” He said immediately.
“Fine.”
***
I fiddled nervously with my necklace as I pressed the doorbell. Almost immediately, the door opened.
I gasped at the face I hadn't seen in four years.
"Dad," I whispered tearingly.
Despite our barely there relationship, I've missed him so much.
The man before me, however, didn't seem to share my sentiment as his face turned stony at my sight.
“What are you doing here?”
This was definitely not the question I envisaged when I decided to come back home.
I thought…time healed wounds.
I thought…he would embrace me warmly, regardless of the past, because I was his daughter. His only child.
I thought…he would apologize for all the harsh things he said to me, for his actions.
I thought–
“Are you deaf?!” He boomed. “What are you doing here?”
My dad always had a temper. While growing up, I could count the number of times he played with me or at least smiled.
I swallowed the lump in my throat. “I want to come back home, dad. I miss you and–”
“Get out. I don't want to ever see your face, you prodigal child!”
“Dad!” I whimpered. “I'm sorry for everything, please don't do this again.”
“Leave!” He yelled, making me flinch.
Still not believing what was happening, I reluctantly turned.
His next words stopped me.
“Reverend Phillips is still unmarried, hopefully he'll overlook your foolishness. Marry him and I'll accept you.”
I stared at him for a long while, not believing my ears.
“Do as your father says.”
I turned back to see my mom dressed sophisticatedly.
She must be returning from one of those endless charity events.
As a child, I always wondered if those children were more important to her than I was.
Then I realized they hadn't even asked about my marriage or my child. After all, the last time we saw one another, I was pregnant and about to be married.
I looked between the two of them, a familiar pain coursing through me.
“I see nothing is ever going to change around here.” I laughed humorlessly, shaking my head.
***
I cried hysterically throughout the bus ride back to Eloise's home.
Lying on my bed with no tears left to shed, I called the only person I could think of. As the phone rang, my gaze fell on the poster taped to the wall. It read: ‘when life throws you lemons, make margaritas - adulting 101.’
I snorted, a reckless smirk on my face.
I might as well have a party while I'm at it.
“Make it thirty.” I said as the line connected.
There was a pause on his side.
“Thirty million? Fine.”
“So, you've made up your mind?” He continued.
“Yes, Xander Ross. I'll be your fake wife for a year.”
- Writer
