The Marriage Contract (13 page)

              “That was hot,” I heard some guy whisper.

              “She looks kind of familiar,” a girl said.

              “You think she’s a stripper, or something? I mean…she totally looked like one right? It was like she was giving the teacher a lap dance with her eyes, or something. Gross.” said someone else.

              Ugh. Perverts.

              When class ended, Stacy caught up to me outside of the room, linking her arm around my elbow.

              “That was so awesome,” she squealed. “I didn’t know you had it in you!”
              I shrugged. “Thanks. Yours was good too—“

              “The Professor loved it,” she said suggestively.

              I frowned. “That’s creepy. I was just performing the word—“

              She laughed. “Chill out! It’s not like I’m saying he’s going to fall in love with you or something—“

              “You’re seriously grossing me out,” I said. “He’s almost forty!”

              She smiled. “Who cares about his age? You’re a married woman! I bet your husband would hate it if he saw you do what you did today—“

              I pushed away from her.

              “Stacy,” I snapped. “Could you knock it off? I was just acting.”

              She frowned. “Don’t get mad.”

              I sighed. “I’ll see you tomorrow. I got to go.”

              For the next two hours, I eat lunch alone in a local diner, flipping through the jobs classified section in the newspaper. James had me quit my job at Hotel Bellevue, since he said it would create complications with our marriage contract if I was to work as a “lowly maid”. I didn’t have to write a resignation letter either, since he said he would “handle” everything on that matter on his own. I didn’t like working as a maid anyway, so I didn’t complain.

              But I still needed a job.

              As I circled a post labeled “administrative assistant,” my phone rang. April’s name flashed over the screen, as I pressed it against my ear, greeting her.

              “Hey, what’s up?” I asked.

              “Dorothy! Come home right now! You aren’t going to believe this. Bye!” She sounded out of breath, and before I could question what she meant, she hung up.

              When I entered my apartment, April sat on the couch next to a tall woman, who looked like a professional wrestler dressed in a blue, nurse’s uniform. Her brunette hair was tied in a tight bun behind her head, as she stared sternly at me. She looked like one of those nurses from horror movies. April’s purple locks bounced in a high ponytail atop her head, as she stood, running towards me.

              “Why didn’t you tell me you’re moving out?” Her light blue eyes bulged, as she shook my shoulders.

              “What are you talking about? I’m not moving out! And who is that?” I glanced at the woman sitting still on the couch.

              “I’m Judy,” the woman replied.

              I walked around April, standing before the mysterious lady.

              “And why are you here?” I tried to sound polite, but knew it came off as rude.

              Judy looked taken aback, and confused herself, as she tilted her head to the side- her bushy brow, raised.

              “I brought her here.” A familiar voice perked my ears, as James walked out of the kitchen, striding towards me.

              There was a mischievous smile on his face, as though he were hiding a dangerous secret. I narrowed my eyes, taking a step back, as he neared.

              “Why?” I asked.

              He smirked. “She’s going to look after April when you move out. Before we got married, you agreed to the rules of our partnership. I mean, you didn’t really think you could live here while we’re married did you?”

              Oh, no. I didn’t like where he was going with this. I didn’t like where he was going with this at all.

              “What are you saying?” I asked. “Say it straight.”

              He sighed, running a hand through his hair.

              “You can’t stay here,” he said. “We’re married now, Princess…so let’s at least act the part. Pack your things, because from today, you’re living with me.”

Chapter Ten

              Though he was twenty eight, the impish glint in his golden brown eyes, made him appear no older than ten.

              Placing my palm against my forehead, I stared incredulously at him. My eyes raked over the slight grin against his lips, to his black Armani t-shirt, which probably cost more than my rent, before stopping on his shoes. Leather skin from an alligator or snake, I couldn’t tell- covered his feet, which I assumed only the highest paid masseuses had touched.

              In his mind, he was a Prince of sorts, who could obtain whatever he wanted with only a snap of his fingers. To him, I was nothing more than his personal marionette- someone he thought he could pull in whichever direction he pleased.

              Well, he was wrong.

              “I’m not going anywhere with you.” I spoke slowly. “It’s been three days since we met, and the only reason I agreed to marrying you is for the shelter. You can’t take advantage of me like this—“

              He shook his head, taking slow steps towards me.

              “Dorothy, sweetheart, you’re getting it all wrong,” he said. “You’re thinking with your heart, not your head—“

              “He’s right,” said April.

              I snapped my eyes to my friend, who sat on the couch next to Judy, the supposed “nurse”. I narrowed my gaze, focusing on the older woman, who, now that I looked closer- appeared to be a mix between Italian and Japanese. She had a poised stance- her back straight against the soft woolen couch.

              Ugh. My head was spinning, as I didn’t know what to focus on first—the mysterious nurse, or James’s stupid idea that I should move in with him.

              “Don’t take his side,” I told April.

              Narrowing my eyes at the woman, who stared blankly at me, I turned once more to James.

              “Can you leave?” I asked quietly. “This is getting out of hand, and I know you’re used to getting whatever you want, but you’re never going to get me to move in with you, so just lose the dream—“

              He laughed. “Can you hear me out at least?—“

              “No,” I snapped. “There’s no reason we should live together. None—“

              “There are plenty of reasons,” he insisted. “Number one, you’re married to one of the richest heirs in the world. Number two, Paparazzi’s will follow your every move, and believe me, they will find out that you’re stilling living in this shack you call home, and when they do find out, our entire plan will come crashing down like fucking dominos—“

              “That’s not true,” I said. “There has to be a way. I can’t live with you, I just can’t!”

              He walked towards me, placing both hands on my shoulders- and leaning down so that we were eye level.

              “You’ve got to leave Kansas someday, Dorothy.”

              I snorted. Did he really just say that?

              He smiled. “Besides…you haven’t got a choice in the matter. What? Did you think that all you had to do was sign the marriage certificate, sit back on your ass, and just wait for the year to end?”

              I pushed his hands off my shoulder, and took a step back- glaring.

              “I didn’t think anything like that,” I snapped. “I just…we can’t live together!—“

              “Why the hell not?”

              The friendly eyes I was used to seeing, flashed in anger, as he rushed towards me. His enraged stare surprised me, as he charged towards me. I walked backwards till my back hit the wall, my brows rising at his intense stare. James slammed a hand against the wall, and leaned his face towards me.

              When I moved to the side, trying to get around him, he placed his other hand against the wall beside my head, caging me.

              “Move,” I said. “Now.”

              He laughed. “Not until you hear me out. It’s like you’ve got cotton stuck in those little ears, because whenever I say anything, you refuse to listen—“

              I sighed. “Fine. Talk. But take a step back first. I can hear you without having to feel your breath in my mouth.”

              He smiled. “Like this?”

              He dipped his mouth towards my lips, but I flipped my head to the side, pushing him back.

              “Quit playing around!” I snapped.

              James ran a hand over the thick main of his hair, looking defeated, as he took a step back.

              “You’re no fun,” he frowned. “But, anyways, let me get to the point. You don’t want to move in with me, and that’s fine, because I love living alone. Freedom excites me. But now, since I’m officially the Mr. to your Mrs…we have got to act the part. If my family hears the news that we aren’t living together, then they’ll know something’s up, and then all this hard work will be for nothing—“

              “So, what now?” I asked. “You want me to leave right this moment?”

              “Yes,” he replied, walking to the brown love seat beside the sofa. “Your luggage is in your room. April already packed your necessities.”

              He took a seat on the couch, crossing a leg over his knee, giving April a warm smile. She smiled back- then turned her head towards me, giving me a sad stare.

              I wasn’t sure whether to thank her, or be annoyed that she’d packed my stuff without bothering to consult me if I was ok with it. But, then again…like James said, I didn’t have a choice. This was what I signed up for, so I guess complaining would be a waste of breath.

              “You’re welcome,” said April. “Don’t worry, I packed everything, including your photo albums, and documents. And if you think something’s missing, you could always come back and get it.”

              I shook my head, feeling my temple ache, as I turned, walking towards my room. My bed was still messy from the morning, with the white blanket thrown to the side. The poster behind my bed, displaying my favorite rock band, Jar Heads, rested against the yellow painted wall.

              Though I knew I would be back here after the marriage year was over, my chest felt hollow at the thought of leaving.

Sighing, I walked towards a large black luggage, holding the center of the dark handle, and rolling it out of the room. My heart felt heavy as I walked down the narrow hallway, passing April’s bedroom, which was its usual mess. I smiled at the daisies and tulips we had painted a year ago on her walls. She’d said we should open a painting business, creating artwork on everyone’s room, and I had replied that perhaps one day we would.

The aching in my chest felt unbearably heavy, as I dragged my luggage to the door, trying to hold back tears.

Oh, geez, I was such a baby.

Don’t cry, Dorothy. Don’t cry!

I avoided James’s eyes-not wanting him to see my weak side, as I sniffed away the tears, willing for not a drop to spill. I stood before the door, my back facing them, as my hand gripped tightly over the handle.

“Well…let’s go then, James,” I said quietly. “I’ll see you next time, April. Bye—“

Two long arms wrapped over my middle, hugging me tightly. The scent of apples swirled through the air, as April rested her chin on my shoulder.

              “I’ll miss you, Dory,” she whispered. “But don’t you dare come back here.”

              I could feel her tear melt into my neck, as she let her eyes drip freely. She didn’t care who saw her cry, unlike me.

              “Hey, what are you saying?” I asked. “I’ll always visit—“

              “Don’t!” she hissed. “You’re finally getting a chance to get the hell out of this shitty apartment, living this shitty life, and you deserve that! No one deserves it more than you. You belong in a mansion, not in a hut. So don’t come back here! I’m serious. I know this marriage or whatever this is, means nothing to you, but promise me, that by the time the year ends, you’ll get somewhere. Anywhere…as long as it’s not in this crappy apartment. I’m always rooting for you, Dory. Always.”

              I couldn’t help it.

              I turned, threw my hands over her neck, and cried. I hadn’t cried over anything since my parents passed, but at that moment, it felt like the right thing to do.

              When I pulled back, wiping the tears from my cheeks, James stood. He took out a pair of sleek sun glasses from the breast pocket of his t-shirt, and slipped them over his eyes, shielding his expression. It was like he didn’t want me to see his reaction to my cry- as though it made him uncomfortable, or something.