Walking in through the entrance of the Great Westview mall feels like walking through the gate of heaven. Deep inside I feel so cheap walking on the sparkling tiles. I don't remember the year I lastly walked into a mini supermarket, and I have never set my feet in a mall, not to talk of a classic one like this.
I grip tight to Jerol's arm, and we make our way in to shop for the event which is scheduled for the day after tomorrow. I am yet to know what kind of an event it will be because Jerol said he would tell me all about it tomorrow and what I have to do. Considering his temper, or anger, or whatever his reaction can be termed, I opted not to insist. I respected his decision, just like he respected mine when he asked what the deal between me and my mother is, or rather, was, and I told him I didn't want to talk about that subject, and he understood. He didn't push it.
If we are going to have this mutual understanding and respect for each other, then the five months will pass by smoothly, and we will part ways in peace when it's time. I would love that.
Going through the clothes section inside the mall, the admirable dresses that Jerol is recommending are everything that beauty and glamour defines. All of them are extremely beautiful, but there is one thing heartbreaking about them. It's even said that the most gorgeous people are the most dangerous and heartless heartbreakers in the world. In the case of these dresses, it's the prices. Jeez! What are we buying? Some piece of plot? Goodness!
He is showing all that he thinks will go well with the theme of his event, I suppose, and I love them all, but because of the figures, I keep shaking my head to every single one of them that he suggests.
"What's wrong with the dresses? Don't tell me you don't like them." He says, his voice soft but anger can still be detected in it.
"Have you looked at the prices? It's just too much exaggerated. How..." he covers my mouth with his hand, making me shut up. He walks close to me, whispering in my ear.
"Look around us." I do as he asks, while he drops his hand from my mouth.
Well, I did an exemplary job at embarrassing him with that outburst about prices because now everybody is gawking at us. Some are even mocking me with sarcastic smiles. I feel awful, not so much for myself because I am fucking serious that I can't pay all these notes just for a single dress, but for this man with me. He perfectly fits well in this class of the rich and famous, the high and mighty tycoons, but not me. I don't belong here. Don't ask me what he is famous for, because I am yet to know. But given the way people look at us as we pass by, and the kind of people I have seen him shake hands with, not to mention the kind of thousands of calls he makes in a day, he is most definitely a something "guru". Call me nosy or a busybody, but that one I have to find out. I need to at least know who I am married to, of all the things.
"I'm sorry for embarrassing you like this. I don't think this place is for me." I say to him, looking away, shame washing my face.
Out of the blue and without a clue, I feel his arms wrapping around my shoulder, pulling me for an unexpected hug. I was about to be frozen by his action, but before I did, the sixth sense knocks. The charade is on for five months.
"A wife should be wrapping her loving arms around her husband right now, don't you agree?" He reminds me in a whisper behind my ear.
Before I can melt down because of his hot breath or turn into ice because of the rich scent of his black sapil cologne, or is it his pheromones, I move my hands under his armpits and wrap them around him. I can win the award for the best winning actress because I am even crossing my eyes, and caressing his back. I must show my worth of all the millions I am being paid for this job, right? I can't afford to fail on such a simple task as this one.
We pull away, dropping my arms fully from his masculine body, but his remain on my shoulders.
"What now?" He implores, but I am so not ready to waste a dime on these dresses, I shake my head. "Come." Wrapping his hand around my waist, he pulls me to an area that looks like a changing area.
We wander through them, him knocking on each door to know if there are people inside until we come to an empty one. He guides me inside the clean and huge room, making me sit on the black leather sofa, while he stands in front of me. He runs his palms from his chin upwards to his hair. A sight that is both admirable and alluring, an innocent opinion though.
He must be pissed off with me. Maybe he is regretting closing me as his temporary wife. I can't blame him, you know.
"Maybe we should go somewhere else?" I say, breaking the silence and his cold stare before he slaps the hell outta me. He looks like he has mentally slapped me like ten times, and I don't want to wait for him to go physical. I am beginning to get afraid here. The way he is sternly gawking at me is questionable.
"Help me to understand you. So, the problem with those dresses we have seen is just the price?" He inquires, shoving both hands in his pocket, and standing straight. His height is commendably every man's dream. I nod my head. "But I am the one who is paying, not you. So what's the deal?"
"It doesn't matter who is paying, Jerol. The prices are madly inflated. One hundred nonsense for a single dress? I'm sure we can get the same dresses somewhere else at a thousand and one per cent lower price." Okay, I don't know what's so funny with my suggestion that got the cold Jerol to smile. I like his beautiful cold smile, though. It's the kind that can charm any lady to smile back except me, because it's breaking annoying me. It's enough that he brought me to this place of the high and mighty where I don't fit one bit. It's also enough that I made a total fool out of myself back there when I complained about the prices. He doesn't have to add more to it by laughing at my suggestion, which is reasonable, by the way, well, according to me only because his smile says I am uttering nothing but pure shit. Dah! I am just being honest and realistic here. "What's so funny?" I ask with an irritated voice.
"The fact that I don't know how we are going to cope like this for five months." Straight to the point.
I knew it. He is tired already, but I can't blame him. We are just so different. We have nothing in common. No common ground at all. We are the exact example of the opposite poles that can't attract each other. We are from two very different worlds. Even his aura is something that will take me a while to get used to.
"There is still time for you to find someone who will match your standards, Jerol. I am just not fit for this role. I will end up embarrassing you every single time." I state with all honesty.
"It's too late for that." He says, crouching on one knee in front of me, resting his hands on my thighs. His touch on my bare skin is giving me a feeling that I can't quite decipher. What do I know about men and what they make you feel anyway? Nothing. I presume this is how it feels when any man touches you. "We can easily settle this. I will ask you two questions, and you will reply with a yes or no. Nothing more, okay?" I nod my head in agreement. "Do you like the dresses?"
Well, of course, I do. I mean, who wouldn't? They are awesome. I am confident everybody would look dazzling in them. But..
"Angel?"
"Angel?" I mimic him. Nobody has ever called me Angel, and I didn't expect that from him of all people. Angel? What am I? A teenager?
"Angeline is too long for me. And Tessa? Tessa, Tessa. Not bad, but I prefer Angel, for some reasons that I will not say. But for the formalities, I will use Tessa McCall. So, Tessa McCall, do you love the dresses?"
"Yes."
"And the only problem is only the prices, right?"
"Yes."
"Okay. Wait here." He stands up, making his way to the door.
"Wait," I call and he turns around. "Where are you going?"
"Well, I have no problem with the price, only you do. So I'll be the one to get the dress for you." With the slight smirk replaced by the cold demeanour, again, he slams the door behind him. I can feel his heavy steps on the floor as he picks up his pace.
Does that mean it's the same dresses he is going to get? No way!
I stand and hurry to the door. I have to stop him because there is no way we are spending that much on the damn clothes. I try twisting the lock, but, my bad! The jerk locked it from the outside. Wow! Brilliant, Jerol! How dare he lock me in here? Is he a psycho or something? So, we will be arguing in the bedroom and then he locks me in the bathroom? Oh, my goodness! I knock on the door, but no one comes to my rescue. If he is a psycho, I better remain sane and not join him in his insanity.
I defeatedly walk back to the seat, making myself as comfortable as I can. Comfortable my foot! That...that... what should I call him? I have no insults for him today.
After about ten minutes, the door flaws open, and he stands outside holding the for ajar, calm like a cucumber and not like someone who just acted so insane a while ago. How many dresses did he just buy? And wait, I thought you only get the shopping bags after paying for whatever you are buying. It seems things here work vice versa - just like rich is the vice versa for poor.
"Let's go." He says, still holding the door ajar.
"Am I not fitting the dresses?"
"You'll do it in the house."
"In the house? What if..."
"Tessa?" Whoa! That made even the people passing by shiver, and they pass a distance from him. "Let's go. Right now!"
Mister paranoia is fuming with anger. Thank God, his anger can't allow him to look at me, because I don't want to imagine the look in his eyes. He is better off as a wolf or a vampire than a human. Screw his anger and temper! His reactions are close to what I read about how those creatures behave when they are enraged.
I raise my hands in surrender, and I walk out past him without saying a word, him following suit and of course, his arm
going to my waist.
Welcome to the world of Jerol, the weirdo psycho.