I, Indeed AM, Stupid!

I found the bar nestled in a corner of Joaquin’s opulent mansion, a secluded spot away from the prying eyes of the partygoers. The dim lighting and polished wooden counter offered a semblance of solace amidst the whirlwind of emotions I was feeling.

I ordered a strong drink and downed it quickly, hoping the alcohol would numb the confusion and frustration swirling inside me. As the warmth spread through my body, I leaned back against the bar, staring into the empty glass.

‘How did I end up here?’ I wondered, my thoughts racing. I came here to learn, not to get tangled in someone else's problems.

The bartender approached, refilling my glass without a word. I nodded my thanks and took another sip, savoring the burn as it slid down my throat. I couldn't help but replay the evening's events in my mind, trying to make sense of Joaquin's unexpected proposal.

Why couldn’t he settle this on his own? What kind of man needs a fake fiancée to escape his father’s demands? Who is he, really, beyond the famous author persona?

I sighed, frustration bubbling up once more. And why me? Out of all the people he could’ve chosen, why did he pick someone he barely knows?

I took another long drink, feeling the alcohol start to take effect. The room seemed to tilt slightly, and I closed my eyes, letting the buzz blur my thoughts. Yet, even in my inebriated state, the questions kept coming, gnawing at my mind.

Why not find a girl to do this charade earlier? He’s successful and undoubtedly surrounded by plenty of women who would jump at the chance.

So why me?

As I pondered this, I felt a presence beside me. Opening my eyes, I turned to see Joaquin standing there, a small, amused smile playing on his lips.

“Enjoying yourself?” he asked, his tone light.

I rolled my eyes but couldn’t help a slight smile. “Trying to make sense of this madness,” I replied, taking another sip. “Do you always ambush people with fake engagement proposals?”

Joaquin chuckled and signaled the bartender for a drink. “Not usually. You’re a special case.”

“Special how?” I asked, my curiosity piqued despite myself.

He took a sip of his drink, his expression growing serious. “I read your emails, Haven. All of them. I know how passionate you are about writing, how much you want to learn and improve. That kind of dedication isn’t easy to find.”

I blinked, taken aback. “You actually read them?”

Joaquin nodded. “Every single one. That’s why I knew you’d be the right person for this… arrangement. You understand what it means to fight for your dreams.”

I stared at him, my heart pounding. “But why the fake engagement? Why not just help me without all this… drama?”

“Because my father won’t back off unless he believes I’m settling down,” Joaquin explained, his voice tinged with frustration. “He’s old-fashioned and stubborn. This is the only way to get him to leave me alone.”

I sighed, the weight of his words sinking in. “And you’re sure this will work?”

“It has to,” he replied, his tone resolute. “I can’t let him dictate my life anymore. And if it means dragging you into this mess, then I’ll make sure it’s worth your while.”

I studied him for a moment, seeing the determination in his eyes. Despite the craziness of the situation, I could sense his desperation, his need to break free from his father’s control.

“Alright,” I said finally, setting my glass down. “I’ll do it. But you’d better make this worth my while, Joaquin.”

He smiled, a genuine warmth in his eyes. “Deal.”

We clinked glasses, sealing our pact. As I took another drink, I couldn’t help but feel a mix of anticipation and dread. This was just the beginning, and I had no idea what lay ahead. But one thing was certain: my life was about to get a lot more complicated.

“Now, it’s the weekend tomorrow. It’d be best if you stay here for the night so we could further talk about our arrangement.”

I widened my eyes at his suggestion. “You’re okay with me staying the night?”

Joaquin scoffed. “Of course, you’ll be staying at the guest room. Bold of you to assume that you’d be sleeping with me.”

I rolled my eyes at his sarcasm. “Remember that you’re asking my favor. A change of tone would be nice,” I said, making him laugh. He then excused himself to talk to his other guests, leaving me alone at the bar.

‘Well,’ I took a sip of my drink. ‘It’s alright for me to go all out tonight, then.’

***

The next morning, I woke up with a pounding headache, the events of the previous night rushing back with startling clarity. I groaned, burying my face in the pillow, trying to block out the sunlight streaming through the window.

A knock on the door made me sit up, wincing at the sudden movement. “Come in,” I called, my voice hoarse.

The door opened, and Joaquin stepped inside, looking far too alert for someone who had been up late. He carried a tray with coffee and pastries, setting it down on the small table by the window.

“Morning,” he said, his tone annoyingly cheerful.

“Morning,” I mumbled, reaching for the coffee. The first sip was like heaven, and I closed my eyes, savoring the warmth.

“We need to talk,” Joaquin said, sitting across from me. “About the plan.”

I sighed, setting down the coffee. “Right. The fake engagement.”

He nodded, his expression serious. “We need to make this convincing, which means we have to get to know each other better. Our likes, dislikes, habits, everything.”

I raised an eyebrow. “You mean like a real couple?”

“Exactly,” he replied. “We’ll spend time together, attend events, and act like we’re truly engaged. My father will be watching closely, so we can’t slip up.”

I furrowed my brows, not replying to what he said for now. He talks as if his father is a big shot! Who is he, anyway? I took the cup of coffee once again, taking a small sip. 

“Is your father a ‘king’ or something? Why are you acting as if this is a dire situation?”

Joaquin silenced for a while; his eyes slightly narrowed at me. “You saw him last night… you don’t know him?”

I shrugged. “Your father?” I groaned, my headache banging with the thought of even thinking about who his dad is. “He looks like you. And you guys are apparently rich, so…”

“Haven.” He looked at me, a single laugh coming from him as if I’m stupid. “He’s the top businessman of the country. We basically own like… almost all the businesses here.”

I took a sip of my coffee, processing little by little what he said as it is what my brain can do for now while hung over.

“Uh-huh…” I started, nodding slowly. “The only man with that status is Mr. Joseph Bryan Grey…son…”

My voice disappeared completely the moment realization dawned in. Joaquin grinned, realizing that I finally picked up their connection and their resemblance.

“Ding, ding, ding, Ms. Haven Thorne?”

I widened my eyes, my hand frozen on the cup’s handle.

Fuck! I, indeed AM, stupid!