The Marriage Contract

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The Marriage Contract Page 3

by Tara Ahmed


  “I’m not agreeing to this,” I said. “So even if you wait for an answer tomorrow, you’ll just hear a big fat ‘no’.”

  He smiled. “We’ll see. I’m an optimistic sort of guy, so I’ll just keep with the happy thoughts.”

  I stared blankly at him, as he gave a small wave to April, to which she brightly waved back.

  After he left, April stood, placing her hands on her hips, exhaling a shallow breath.

  “I like him,” she stated. “He looks so familiar though. Why does he look so familiar? Hmm…where’s Plunky? Plunky! It’s time for dinner!”

  I sighed, as she turned, searching for the imaginary bird. It would probably take me a good ten minutes to explain to April who he was, since she forgot that she read about him in some gossip column.

  The alarm sounded on the drawer stand beside my head, as I groggily extended an arm to the top of the round clock, stopping the loud repetitive ringing.

  “Rise and shine! Today is the day you have to tell James that you’re going to marry him. Oh, Dory, I’m so excited for you!”

  I rubbed my eyes, yawning, and swinging my legs off the bed. My orange locks were in their usual mess, resting over my shoulders in a wavy tangle, as I stared grimly at April. She stood before the dresser, putting her hair into a complicated looking bun at the back of her head, her purple locks appearing bright against the stream of sunlight through the open window.

  “You remembered,” I stated, my voice croaking. “Did you do the memory exercises that Dr. Ramfort asked you to?—“

  “I practice every day,” she said. “But don’t switch the topic! You’re going to say yes, aren’t you? I mean, you heard what he said. Your whole world will change—“

  I stood, giving her a stern stare. “It’s not that simple, April. I can’t just marry a guy for his money—“

  “Why not?” she asked. “And besides, maybe he’s the one?”

  April has always had her head in the clouds, and would probably marry any guy if he asked her to, no matter if he was rich, poor, or just plain crazy. She takes the term, “taking chances”, to a whole new level.

  I walked to the white dressing table against the wall, opening the drawer, and taking out a plain blue t-shirt, and black skinny jeans.

  “There’s no such thing as ‘the one’,” I muttered, stifling another yawn. “He’s just…a strange guy. I’ll wish him luck for the future, but marriage? No thanks. And besides…marriage should be…well…it should be with someone you love. And he’s not someone I could ever love—“

  “You’re so boring, Dory,” she whined, pinching my cheek. “But I bet you a million bucks, that that guy is going to steal your heart."

  I thought about her statement for a moment, letting it sink into my mind, and then drowning it out altogether.

  “He may steal my heart,” I whispered to myself. “But he’ll probably break it as well.”

  April straightened her back, her brows raised.

  “Did you say something?” she asked.

  “No,” I lied. “Get to work. You’re going to be late! Isn’t a big flower order coming today?”

  Her bright eyes widened, as she clapped her hands together in realization.

  “Oh, that’s right! Mr. Chan ordered a large bouquet for his wife. I should get going!”

  I smiled. “Don’t forget to take the red pill, April. It’s on the first cabinet. Take only one.”

  She jogged out the room. “Thanks Dory! Feed Plunky before you go to work please!”

  As I walked to the bus stop, I felt a creeping sensation that I was being followed.

  My hands gripped over my purse, as I reached the stop, standing near a line of five other people waiting for the bus. I looked to the side a few times, but saw only pedestrians walking past the stores, their eyes forward. No one stared or even glanced at me, but I felt that there was someone out there, tracing my every move.

  My heart drummed like thunder within my chest, as I licked my bottom lip, hoping the bus would just come already.

  The warm sun rays splashed over my shoulders, as the aqua blue sky smiled over me, telling me that everything was alright. But, my gut said otherwise.

  Opening my purse, I took out the taser that James had given me yesterday, gripping it in my fist so tight, my palm began to sting. Though I was in a crowded place, I didn’t allow myself to lose my guard, because a pervert could attack at any moment, at any time, and when he does, I wanted to be ready to tase the crap out of him.

  The roaring of the M32 bus finally neared, as the line of people moved towards its open door, prepared to enter.

  I exhaled a breath of relief, my grip loosening around the taser, as I walked towards the open door.

  I would have entered the bus, but a flash of light caught me by surprise, as a man stood before me, snapping a pic with a huge paparazzi style camera.

  The taser fell off my hands, and on the floor, where it rolled down towards the street. People stared curiously at me, as I blocked a palm over my face, confused by this maniac snapping pictures upon pictures of me.

  “Hey—knock it off!” I snapped.

  “Aw, come on! Give me a smile!” he said.

  The stranger continued to snap the pictures, ignoring my protest- so without another thought, I smacked the camera off of his hands. He had cat like reflexes, for he caught it just in time before it fell, and in that brief moment, I ran.

  He followed after me, and a crowd of people watched the action.

  “Why are you taking my pictures?” I asked, as he ran beside me, snapping another shot.

  “You’re James Bellevue’s new girl toy,” he said, giving me a nasty grin.

  Girl toy?

  He was a round, tan man, whose hair had thinned at the top. His eyes were filled with malice, and as I stopped running, standing before him, I realized what he was.

  A Paparazzi

  As the man stood before me, looking me up and down like I was a showpiece, I crossed my hands over my chest, scowling at him.

  “You’re mistaken,” I snapped. “I’m nobody’s toy—“

  “Ahh, but you are! You’re his hot new candy of the month, and everyone’s all buzzing about you. You have a Facebook don’t you?”

  “No,” I replied. “Listen. Delete those pictures. Now! I’m not who you think I am—“

  “You have an Instagram don’t you? It’s all over Instagram! And tumbler and definitely on the gossip column of nearly every newspaper and magazine—“

  “I don’t have any of those things,” I snapped. “Now, like I said…you’re mistaken! So please, delete my pictures—“

  The man ran a hand against his thick neck, and shook his head, giving me a sly grin.

  “These pictures are too good to delete,” he said. “In fact, I think I’ll take a bit more.”

  My eyes widened, as he pressed the camera against his large, oval head, and snapped another picture.

  People stood around us, watching, but not a single person stopped the harassment. I was shocked, and disappointed in humanity for not helping another human in need. But then again, this weirdo made it seem like I was some sort of celebrity, and people tended to just stare at celebrities, rather than help them. I think, anyway.

  As I was prepared to rip the camera off his face and hurl it across the sky, someone stepped before me. The stranger pressed his hand over the paparazzi’s camera, and said, “That’s enough.”

  His voice was familiar, and as I stared at his tall, muscular back, covered in a light white t-shirt, I felt as if I knew him.

  “The lady said to stop,” said the stranger. “If you don’t get the hell out of here right now, I’ll make sure you regret it. I think you know fully well who I am. Don’t test me—“

  “Alright, alright, I’m out,” said the Paparazzi.

  I exhaled a breath of relief as the photographer ran away. But when the stranger turned towards me, my heart froze.

  It was James.

  No, it couldn
’t be James.

  But it was him!

  The man that stood before me- had cold, steel brown eyes, much different from James’s easy going gaze. His locks were a shade lighter than James’s, and swept over the side of his head, making him look somewhat like a movie star. He stood straight, towering a head over me, and looking me over with a bored expression.

  “James?” My voice was small, and though I knew the man could not be James, I just had to ask.

  They looked exactly the same, except his eyes were so cold, and unforgiving.

  “Richard,” he replied. “James’s brother. You’re his fiancé, I presume?”

  I stared at him, my heart pounding, as I pressed a hand against my chest, wondering why I was reacting so strangely. His question drowned in my ear, for I was focused on his much too serious face, unable to look away.

  Damn, he was dreamy.

  Chapter Four

  Richard stared at me with cold, unfriendly eyes, his handsome face distorted in annoyance.

  “It’s rude to stare,” he stated.

  There were bells ringing in my ear, playing a tune of their own, as I blinked slowly at him. He had a strong jaw, which ticked, as his lips pressed in a stern line. I exhaled a deep breath, not knowing why my heart drummed like raindrops against a window pane. What was it about him that made it impossible to look away?

  When his fingers snapped before my face, I jumped, my heart pounding at the shock. It felt as though I was awakened from a deep sleep, as I shook my head, my cheeks heating.

  “Oh…um…I’m sorry,” I mumbled, staring at the ground.

  My face boiled hot, and I felt like an idiot for gaping at him so shamelessly.

  He sighed, as though exhausted.

  “You’re James’s fiancé, right?”

  It took me two seconds to process his question, and when it registered through my mind, I snapped my gaze to his, my eyes bulging.

  “His what?” I asked. “I’m sorry…I think I heard you wrong—“

  “You heard me right,” he stated, his tone clipped. “We can stand here and chat all day long, or get to the venue. I…I owe my brother a favor. So, either you come with me, or I drag you along.”

  My eyes narrowed, as the colors of this new stranger burst through, spoiling my image of him.

  The sun shined down along the street, as people passed by, ignoring us. I was glad there were no onlookers staring at our conversation, but for some reason, I wished someone would get me out of here- out of this weird situation, with this man telling me odd things.

  I placed my hand on my hip, staring defiantly at him, my chest rising and falling.

  “Now, look here,” I said. “You can’t drag me anywhere. I don’t care what you owe James, you can’t just order me around like—“

  He shot me a condescending stare, his eyes roaming up and down my body with an unimpressed expression plastered over his handsome face.

  “Forgive me,” he said.

  “For what?” I demanded.

  He raised a brow, his eyes, still stone cold and expressionless.

  “For this,” he stated.

  Before I could ask what he meant, he scooped me up, throwing me over his back, and running past the street.

  “Hey, let me down you caveman!” My insult sounded ridiculous, but it was the only way I could accurately describe what he was doing.

  Who forcibly carried people away these days?

  “Put me down!” I repeated, smacking his back with my fists.

  People watched, some took pictures, and everyone else mostly smiled at the scenario, leaving me angry and confused.

  During times like this, shouldn’t people call the police and save the woman being kidnapped?

  Humans are jerks.

  As I pulled his hair, he yelped, before opening a sleek car door, and throwing me in the front seat. He closed the door, pressed some button from a small remote in his pocket, causing it to lock. I huffed in my seat, glaring daggers at him, as he entered the car.

  “I don’t break promises,” he stated, starting the engine of his car. “I promised James I’d take you to him at 10:30 am, and it’s already 9:00. We have a lot of work to do—“

  “Ok, listen up you psycho path! Either you let me out of this car right now, or I call the police!”

  Opening my black purse, I took out my phone, prepared to dial the three numbers that would get him arrested.

  But before I could press the dial button, he swept a hand towards the phone, snatching it from my hands, and placing it in his jeans pocket.

  “Just calm down for a second, alright? Geez, you’re a piece of work!”

  “What the hell is going on?” I asked. “Tell me, or else—“

  “Enough with the threats, already,” he said, sighing. “HI. I’m Richard Bellevue. James’s twin. A long, long time ago, he did me a favor, and I’m not getting into the details of that, so don’t ask. Long story short, he asked me to get you ready, and take you to some surprise event he’s planning for you. You know, I really don’t give a rat’s ass about what you two do, and what your corny relationship is like. I’m just repaying a favor, and I’d really appreciate if you could cooperate—“

  “What event? And I have work. I’m fifteen minutes late—“

  “James discussed this with your supervisor. You have the day off. And it’s called a surprise. I don’t even know what this event is about, but all I ask, is that you quit screaming like a banshee, and just stay put!”

  The morning light streamed through the open window, blowing his wavy brown locks to the side, casting a glow along his rugged cheeks. His eyes were focused on the road, with a blank expression clouded over his face.

  “I’m not a dog,” I argued. “I don’t ‘stay put’. And who told you I’m his fiancé? And how do you know what I look like? We never met—“

  “James told me you’re his fiancé, so that’s all I know. And by the way, all of New York State knows what you look like,” he stated. “Your picture is in the newspaper—“

  “The newspaper? What do you mean?” I asked. “And I’m not his fiancé.”

  His hands loosened on the steering wheel, as he gave me a quick, annoyed glance.

  “He gave a kiss on that little forehead of yours yesterday,” Richard explained. “The Paparazzi took a picture, posted it online, and sold it to a newspaper. Honestly, don’t look so surprised. If you’re going to marry my brother, then this kind of thing will be routine for you. Get used to it, lady.”

  I groaned, dropping my head to my lap, my hands covering my face. Everything he was saying sounded like a tangled mess, and it was all James’s fault. Why was he going around telling people that I was his fiancé? And why the hell did his brother end up being a jerk as well?

  Twin jerks.

  “This is such a mess,” I mumbled against the fabric of my jeans.

  “You and James will make a good pair,” said Richard. “For one thing, you’re both insane.”

  I shifted my head to the side, my hair spread over my knees, as I gave him a cold stare. He noticed, and raised a brow.

  “Where does he find these girls?” Richard asked to himself, shaking his head, his eyes focused on the road.

  I scoffed, sitting up, and pressing my back against the leather chair of the Mercedes. He shot me another irritated stare, to which I glared in return.

  Honestly, my head was beginning to hurt from all the glaring I was doing, and I could blame only James.

  He had clearly told me yesterday that I should give him my answer, and I had prepared a very clear “no” to give him. And now, he was spreading lies to his family members that I was engaged to him.

  Oh, I would definitely have a nice, long chat with him. And in the process, go to jail for punching the lights out of him.

  Sitting against the car seat, I fumed, thinking of all the ways I would murder James when his brother took me to see him for this “event”.

  As the evil thoughts about James reverbe
rated over my mind- the car came to a stop, as Richard got out, slamming the door behind him. I snapped my eyes to the side, looking out the car window, staring at the fancy hair salon across from me.

  Richard opened the door, giving me an impatient stare.

  “Get out the car,” he ordered.

  I narrowed my eyes at him, before stepping out of the car, and standing before the salon. It was an upscale place, and I could imagine Hollywood actresses or people with too much money on their hands, coming by for a monthly cut. I imagined the prices of each cut to be at least a hundred bucks, which was probably pennies for those that could afford it. For a moment, I glanced at my tangled pony tail, which had way too many split ends, and a cut from a local salon near my apartment building.

  “You’ve got an appointment with Valencio,” said Richard, taking long strides towards the rich salon.

  I stared at his back, blinking slowly.

  He stopped for a moment, and then turned.

  “Are you coming in or what?” he asked.

  I shook my head.

  He glared, taking quick steps towards me.

  “You have a day off from work,” he said. “If you’ve got anything better to do at this moment, then just leave. Walk away! But if not, then quietly follow me. Got that?”

  My eyes narrowed, as I took a step towards him, glaring.

  “I’m not a dog. You can’t just order me around. Please apologize,” I demanded. “I guess you’re having a bad day, but that’s no reason to bark at me. You owe James a favor right? Well, if I don’t cooperate with you, you can’t complete that favor can you?”

  His long stride closed our space, as we stood an inch apart, glaring at each other. His eyes were too intense, and though I wanted to look away, I didn’t, for that would mean that I’m giving in to his “tough guy” attitude. He looked like the type that was used to getting his way through harsh demands and hurting people without caring about their feelings. He was exactly the type of person that needed to be told off, but never was.

  His eyes hardened, and though he didn’t look at all apologetic, he grunted, “fair enough.”

  “Good,” I said.

 

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