TOO LATE

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, and clinging to this rich god beside me isn't lessening the feeling. 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 one.

I hold on tight to the arm of Jerol, and we make our way in, to shop for the event of 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 called, 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 understand and respect each other like this, then the five months will pass smoothly, and we will part ways in peace at the end of it. I would love that.

Going through the clothes section inside the mall, the admirable dresses Jerol is suggesting are everything that beauty 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 best and most heartless heartbreakers in the world. In this case, it's the prices. Jeez! What are we buying, some piece of the 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 at every one of them that he shows to me. The prizes are even giving migraine for crying out loud!

"We are going around in circles. What's wrong with the dresses?" Jerol asks, frustration and boredom in his voice.

"Have you checked the prices? This is daylight robbery, Jerol! It's too..." he covers my mouth with his hand, preventing me from uttering another word that will diminish his lifestyle.

He pulls me to him, whispering in my ear.

"Look around us." I do as he asks, while he drops his hand from my mouth.

Well, I made a good job at embarrassing him with that outburst about prices, because now everybody is looking at us. Some are even mocking me with sarcastic smiles.

I feel bad, not for me, because 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, 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 thousand 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 Jerol, 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 a hug.

Huh? Why?

Before I can be turned into ice by the warmth of his sweet cologne scent, my sixth sense kicks in - the charade is on for five months. Damn me!

"A wife should be wrapping her loving arms around her husband too right now." He reminds me in a whisper behind my ear, and before I can meltdown because of his hot breath that's tickling my bare skin, 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 closing my eyes, and my hands are moving slowly in a soothing motion on his fine back. I must show my worth of all the millions I am being paid for this job, right? That means this charade has to look as real as it can ever be.

I didn't know it was that easy to fake feelings though! I mean, it's always this simple?

We pull away, dropping my arms fully from his masculine body, but his remain on my shoulders.

I can feel the redness on my cheeks as he stares deep into my eyes, and my adrenaline rush due to his touch.

"What now?" He asks, but I am so not ready to waste a dime on this dress, so, I shake my head. "Come." Wrapping his hand around my waist, he pulls me to an area that looks like a fitting area.

We walk 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 a seat on the black leather seat, while he stands in front of me.

He runs his hands from his chin up to his hair. He must be really pissed off with me. Maybe he is regretting choosing me as his fake wife. I can't blame him, because I too am regretting agreeing to this madness. He and I are from two different worlds that have nothing in common. How can we make this work?

"Maybe we should go somewhere else?" I state, 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 now.

"I want to understand you. So, the problem with those dresses we have seen is just the price?" He asks, shoving his both hands in his pocket, and standing straight. His height is every man's dream. I nod my head. "But I am the one who is paying, not you. So what's the deal?" He fumes.

"It doesn't matter who is paying, Jerol. The prices are madly exaggerated. One hundred nonsense for a single dress? I'm sure we can get the same dresses somewhere else at a thousand per cent lower price." I rant, my cool evaporating from me.

Okay! I don't know what's so funny with my suggestion that got the icy Jerol to smile.

I like his beautiful icy smile, no, I love it!

So this is how he looks while smiling, huh? Damn! He looks damn steamy hot but still with a cold aura. Ooh dear, I better stop thinking about this smile because it's messing with my mind.

Why is he smiling again?

It's enough that he brought me to this damn place of the high and mighty where I don't fit at all. It's also enough that I made a total fool out of myself back there when I complained about the prices. I have suffered enough embarrassment as it is. He doesn't have to add more to it by laughing at my suggestion, which is good by the way, well, according to me only, because his smile says I am uttering nothing but pure shit. I am just being honest and realistic here, for fucks sake! "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."

I knew it! He is tired already, and I understand. We are just so different. We have nothing in common. We are the opposite poles that can't attract each other.

If it ends here, at least I got to live with a rich beautiful god for five days.

Shit! Why... is that pain I am feeling inside my heart? No.. I think I am paranoid!

I push the lump that is forming in my throat, and force words out of my mouth, looking down.

"I am not fit for this, Jerol. There is still time for you to find someone who will match your standards." I utter albeit with a heavy heart.

"It's too late for that." He says, kneeling 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 explain. What do I know about men and feelings 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 freaking awesome. I am confident everybody would look great in them. But..

"Angel?"

"Angel?" I repeat after him. Nobody ever called me Angel, and I didn't expect that from him. 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 the prices, right?"

"Yes."

"Okay. Wait here." He stands up, making his way to the door.

"Wait." I call. He turns around, while I stand up. "Where are you going?"

"To do something about the price tags." With the smile replaced by his cold looks again, he slams the door behind him. I can feel his heavy steps on the floor as he makes his way to the section of the dresses.

That means it's the same dresses he is going to get? No way!

I hurry to the door. I have to stop him because there is no way we are spending that much on 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 looks at 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 on my foot! That... what should I call him? He is an insane moron!

After about ten minutes, the door opens, and he stands outside, calms like a cucumber and not like someone who just acted so insane a while ago. How many dresses did he just choose? And wait, I thought you only get the shopping bags after paying for whatever you are buying. It seems like things here work vice versa - just like the rich is vice versa for the poor.

"Let's go." He says, still holding the door ajar.

Go?

"Am I not fitting the dresses?"

"You'll do it in the house." His response is a no freaking cold one, as if daring you to challenge him, which I do.

"In the house? What if..."

"Tessa?" Whoa! That made even the people passing by to shiver, and they pass a distance from him. "I said, let's go. Please?" Mister paranoia is about to go hysterical.

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. His reactions are close to what I read about how those creatures behave when they are enraged. Damn you, Jerol!

I raise my hands in surrender, and I walk out, him following suit, and of course, his arms going to my waist, annoying the hell out of me.

Welcome to the world of Jerol, the weirdo psycho! Cold hysterical moron! Dominant jerk!