Chapter 9

Winston turned towards me and questioned, "Ms. Zara, are you married?"

I wondered why on earth this particular conversation had any relevance to my marital status. Why did it have anything to do with what had transpired thus far? I quizzically raised an eyebrow and inquired, "Why does that minuscule detail hold any significance right now?"

The two men's eyes locked onto me like a pair of confused children. It was clear that my choice of clothing had thrown them for a loop. Now, I'm not saying I was actually married or anything, but I did give off that vibe. Their puzzled expressions spoke volumes. It was as if they were trying to decipher the mystery that stood before them in a wedding gown. Was I a blushing bride, ready to walk down the aisle? Or perhaps a daring fashionista pushing the boundaries of societal norms? The possibilities were endless, and their bewildered faces only added to the intrigue. I couldn't help but chuckle to myself as I soaked in their confusion. It was like a scene straight out of a comedy film. I mean, who in their right mind would casually stroll into a room wearing a wedding gown? Apparently, this girl right here, Me.

"Married? no!" I exclaimed, pretending to be shocked. I leaned back in my chair, and a cheeky shine in my eyes. Mr. Colton brought himself into the conversation, his words dripping with curiosity.

"Hold on a minute," he interjected, his voice laced with a mischievous tone. "Let me get this straight. You were wandering around Oaks Resort, decked out in full bridal regalia, for absolutely no reason whatsoever?"

I couldn't help but chew on my bottom lip, a nervous habit I had developed over the years. With a little wobble in my voice, I leaned in closer and whispered, "You know, I was actually on the verge of tying the knot, but life had other plans for me. Some pesky personal reasons got in the way, and I had to call off the whole shebang."

With a twinkle in his eye and a petty smile, Mr. Colton couldn't help but let his curiosity get the best of him. Leaning in closer, he asked the question that perhaps had been burning in his mind, "So, is it postponed?"

"No, I'm no longer getting married," I replied in a voice laced with a tinge of embarrassment.

Soon the words escaped my lips, and an ember of intrigue swayed across Mr. Colton's eyes. He leaned back in his plush leather chair, the epitome of suave sophistication, and gracefully intertwined his fingers. With a gesture of his hands like an orchestra maestro, he dramatically motioned for Winston to proceed. The room fell into a hushed silence, and we both eagerly awaited the continuation of Winston's narrative.

Winston exclaimed, "The journalists, who are here to cover the grand opening of our new restaurant this morning, had captured snapshots of you and Mr. Colton in the hallway last night. It's quite apparent that you were wearing your wedding gown for some undisclosed purpose and given that the snapshot is currently gaining viral status across various social media platforms. Word is that you and Mr. Colton recently tied the knot secretly."

What he said was totally accurate. However, he gave the feeling that he was asked to deliver it in a particular way, word for word.

"Would you like me to clarify to the media that the situation between Mr. Colton and myself was simply a misinterpretation of the situation?" I proposed, and I brainstormed the idea.

I stared at him in utter disbelief, thinking what more they expected of me. Are they expecting me to provide financial compensation for the harm caused to their reputation? Or, to make matters even worse, will they hit me with a defamation lawsuit?

The mere thought sent shivers down my spine and made my stacked vertebrae bones tremble.

It was like a dark cloud of doom hanging over my head, ready to rain down legal consequences upon my miserable existence. I sank in my seat, completely broke, and unable to afford either restitution or legal defense.

"Winston, skip the pleasantries and get straight to the point," Mr. Colton issued the order.

What on earth these two gentlemen were about to suggest? I couldn't help but pray to God that they wouldn't hit me with the dreaded demand for money for the damage. I closed my eyes tightly and crossed my fingers.

Winston announced, "Mr. Sherman Colton would like to marry you."

My jaw dropped open, disbelief coursing through my bloodstream like a caffeinated squirrel on a sugar high. The words that reached my ears seemed to defy all logic and reason, pure absurdity. I blinked repeatedly, hoping that this was some kind of ridiculous hallucination brought on by the cocktail of random expensive liquors.

Even though I wasn't the brightest bulb in the room, I knew there had to be a catch to the fact that this handsome, affluent man wanted to marry me. An ordinary housekeeper?

It seemed like my brain had begun to spin erratically inside my skull.

Oh, good heavens! What in the world is the matter with him?

Why does he want to marry a weird woman he met by chance a few hours ago?