Andrew's mother raised an eyebrow, a stern expression on her face. "Andrew, we need to talk," she declared, her tone leaving no room for argument. Andrew's earlier amusement quickly turned into apprehension as they headed to a more private space for the impending conversation. In the secluded space, Andrew's mother fixed him with a piercing gaze. "I hope you have a reasonable explanation for what I just witnessed," she stated, her voice firm. Andrew shifted uncomfortably, attempting to choose his words carefully. "It's just a misunderstanding, Mom. Annabel and I were discussing her new schedule, and things got a bit... intense," he explained, avoiding direct eye contact. His mother's expression remained unyielding. "Intense? That didn't look like a professional discussion to me," she remarked, crossing her arms. "I hope you're not taking advantage of your position, Andrew." Andrew sighed, realizing the gravity of the situation. "No, Mom, it's not like that. I just wanted to
Meanwhile, outside Andrew’s room, Annabel leaned against the hallway wall, nursing her wounded hand. The sting of the cut was a tangible reminder of the unexpected turn of events. She replayed the scene in her mind, from Mrs. Torres’ stern warning to Andrew’s impulsive reaction. In the sprawling cotton field, Annabel caught sight of Andrew approaching, and a sudden surge of discomfort prompted her to seek refuge amidst the cotton plants, concealing herself from his view. Andrew, oblivious to her evasive maneuver, continued walking until he stood in the midst of the cotton, his eyes scanning the surroundings. “Annabel?” Andrew called out, his brow furrowing in confusion. He trailed his hand through his hair, a gesture of mild frustration. “Where could she be?” Hidden in the cotton, Annabel observed Andrew’s perplexed demeanor and wondered about his persistent attempts to be near her. A fleeting thought crossed her mind – could Andrew be in love with her? She quickly dismissed t
Albert’s keen gaze remained fixed on Andrew, waiting for an explanation. Andrew, struggling to find the right words, stammered, “Uh, I… I was just checking on Annabel. You know, making sure everything’s okay.” Albert raised an eyebrow, skepticism evident in his tone. “Checking on Annabel? Why all of a sudden? Is there something you’re not telling me?” Andrew hesitated, a mix of guilt and uncertainty crossing his features. “It’s just… things have been a bit complicated lately, and I thought I should see how she’s doing,” he finally admitted. Albert, though intrigued, couldn’t shake the feeling that Andrew wasn’t revealing the whole story. “Complicated? What’s going on, Andrew? Why the sudden concern for Annabel?” The air in the corridor grew tense as Andrew’s frown deepened, irritation bubbling beneath the surface. Albert’s barrage of questions had struck a nerve, and Andrew decided it was time to turn the tables on his curious brother. “Albert,” Andrew began, his voice car
Mrs. Torres, perceiving Annabel's evident confusion, addressed her with a blend of concern and curiosity. "Annabel, why do you seem so lost?" Mrs. Torres inquired, her attentive eyes focused on Annabel's troubled expression, sensing there was more beneath the surface. Caught off guard, Annabel met Mrs. Torres's gaze and took a moment before offering a glimpse into her internal turmoil. "It's just... I was thinking about your request," Annabel admitted, her voice tinged with a touch of nervousness as she tried to articulate the complexity of her thoughts. Mrs. Torres, expecting a more elaborate response, raised an eyebrow, prompting Annabel to delve deeper into her contemplation. "What about my request has you so preoccupied?" Mrs. Torres pressed further, her tone firm yet encouraging, urging Annabel to open up. With a sigh, Annabel felt compelled to be honest. "Mrs. Torres, the thing is, I don't have a husband," she confessed, her words carrying the weight of potential c
It has been precisely seven days since Annabel received the unusual request from Mrs. Torres to extend an invitation to her husband, a directive instigated by Mrs. Torres's concern for her sons, Albert and Andrew. The underlying motive was to serve as a deterrent, preventing any potential romantic entanglements between the aforementioned sons and Annabel. In the seclusion of his study, Andrew, immersed in his thoughts, couldn't help but vocalize his desire for Annabel. "I want her to be mine," he uttered, grappling with his emotions while nervously biting his lip. Despite the intense yearning for Annabel and the allure of her touch, Andrew realized the necessity of maintaining self-control. He understood that any hint of impropriety could lead to suspicion and, subsequently, his mother dismissing Annabel from her position. Caught in a whirlwind of conflicting emotions, Annabel found herself walking along the mansion's passageways when she unintentionally eavesdropped on Mrs. Tor
One windy day, Annabel sat in her room, thinking hard. The wind outside matched the whirl of thoughts in her head. She had a big job ahead—getting Mrs. Jones to say yes so she could meet Julie. But this mission wasn’t just about typical friend talks. Restless, Annabel got up, pacing her room. “How do I ask Mrs. Jones to let me see Julie and talk about our plan for finding a fake husband?” she wondered, gently stroking her chin. The situation felt serious, full of uncertainty. In a moment of contemplation, Annabel's phone interrupted the solitude with its insistent ringing. Her eyes darted to the device resting on her bedside table, and without hesitation, she reached for it. The caller ID revealed Julie's name, and a sense of urgency compelled her to answer swiftly. Julie's voice burst forth from the speaker, a cacophony of excitement. "Get down here quick! I've found someone perfect for the job!" Annabel winced at the unexpected volume, hastily pulling the phone away from her
Andrew, now visibly perplexed, continued to scratch the back of his head as he approached the table behind the coffee shop. "Annabel, where are you?" he called out, unaware of the clandestine activity transpiring just inches away. His eyebrows raised inquisitively as he surveyed the area, considering the possibility that she might be hiding. "Could she be behind this table?" he mused aloud, taking a cautious step forward as his eyes scanned the surroundings. Beneath the table, Annabel's heart raced at the realization that Andrew was inching closer. Panicking, she whispered urgently to Julie and the guy with them, "He's coming here! Why is he coming here?" Her eyes widened with concern, scanning Andrew's every move. Julie, caught off guard by the sudden urgency, questioned, "What's going on, Annabel? Why are we hiding?" Confusion clouded her expression as she tried to make sense of the situation. Annabel turned toward Julie, her voice barely audible, "That's Andrew." Julie's
Annabel and Julie found themselves in disbelief as a mysterious figure with a masked face stood before them. Annabel, unable to contain her curiosity, questioned him with a puzzled stare, "Who are you?" Andrew, attempting to maintain an air of mystery, smoothly shifted his glass before settling in next to Julie. A silent exchange of glances between Annabel and Julie revealed their mutual confusion. Annabel inquired, "What's going on?" with a lingering tone, and Julie, equally bewildered, shrugged in response. As Andrew took a deliberate sip, he cleared his throat, adjusting his voice pitch to conceal his identity. A concealed smirk adorned his face beneath the mask as he disclosed, "I heard you guys need someone to act like a fake husband." Julie, momentarily taken aback, blinked twice before responding, "Yes, we do. We actually need someone to act as her husband for a day," pointing at Annabel, who was fixated on Andrew. Sensing Annabel's intense gaze, Andrew flinched imperc