Waking Up with a Ring on My Finger and a Bad Boy at My Side [09]

I felt tears welling up in my eyes as I saw a woman of 50 years of age or something, carrying a new dress that doesn't even looked as if it had traces of my mother's dress. It was like a sundress, more like it.

What used to be a trumpet dress was cut to look like a...regular dress made spectacular. It was knee-length, the laces were not there anymore and it was strapless too. Small but detailed pink flowers stitches decorated the hem and a light pink ribbon was tied around the waist area.

"Beautiful isn't it?" Evelyn cooed. "There were too many laces, good thing that Claire threw out all of the remaining fabric. Or else my dream would be haunted by it."

She threw them out? She...

"You..." I started, pointing towards her. My finger was trembling in anger, and my entire body shook with frustration and rage. "You fucking, selfish, self-centered BITCH!" I screamed, letting the tears fall freely.

In this case, action spoke louder than words. Way much louder.

I punched her and pushed her against a wall. I kicked away the manequin angrily when it hit me. "Girls, stop it--"

What the hell do I care?

"Why the hell did you that?!" I screamed as I grabbed her hair but she clawed my arms with her super manicured fingernails but I didn't care. I pushed her down to the ground and tried to calm myself down, but I couldn't.

"I fucking hate you!" I hissed. "That's it we're through! I don't want to work with a fucking bimbo like you anymore! Not now, not ever!"

She sat up and glared at me, but to my horror she smiled. It was never good when you punch someone and that someone smiled. "Fine. But you have to pay me a total sum of 900k."

"W-what?!" I stammered. She was talking bullshit.

"The contract, Sammy dear!" she screamed to my face after she got up. "Many companies have this terms and conditions. If you pull out, you're wasting my time, you're wasting my money too. If you pull out, you'll literally have to fucking pay."

My heart skipped a beat. This was a major deja vu. This thing happened to Brandon when he was 17. And since then, he always adviced me to read the contract first. But I thought...

History repeated itself afterall.

I did not have that kind of money and she was going to enjoy every moment of making my life a living hell. "You break the contract without paying the penalty, you would be hearing from my lawyer."

I rubbed my temples and took my bag before dashing out of the store. Still trembling, I called a cab. When the cab finally arrived almost an hour later, I instructed him to go anywhere but here...

But the cabbie gave me odd looks so I told him to bring me to Central Park.

I didn't want to tell Brandon about this. Not yet, not when his business was restored to its' former glory after that slight sabotage when we were 17 years old (they had to shut down every European branch...and that contract issue with the merger).

He could help. But I signed the papers. I got myself tied to Evelyn until my wedding's over. I wiped my wet eyes with my sleeves, smearing it with black mascara. He'll be so disappointed in me, I knew he would.

I'll just...won't tell him for now.

So instead...

"Mr. Compton?" I said after taking out my phone. "Where are you at?"

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Between you and me, I hated Rachel Laurent as much as I hated Richard Compton once, but that's because he worked Brandon like a slave and treated him as if Brandon wasn't his son. But years went by, and thankfully, Brandon and his father got along better.

Mr. Compton and me got along too.

It was great that I could catch him before his flight the next morning. He was a traveling man, much similar to Brandon too even though Mr. Compton already retired. He liked to keep an eye on his company. He was, the founder after all.

"Stop with the formalities, Sam," Mr. Compto-- I meant, Richard, said when I greeted him at the lobby of The Ritz. "You look horrible."

"Thanks, I've noticed," I replied. He ordered a cup of coffee for the both of us, and while waiting for the coffee to arrive, I spilled the beans. From Evelyn butting in to the dress. He fiddled with his cuff links before finally taking them out and dropping it in his pocket.

"Nine hundred thousand is not a small amount, Samantha," he said finally. Great, when someone as rich and successful as this man was say that, it basically means that you're in deep shit. "I could give you my lawyer...but he needs to go over the contract to search for some kind of a...loophole. But I doubt there are."

He was being negative. Great. Just fucking perfect. "Why's so?" I muttered.

"Because word on the street is that this happened all the time with Spencer's clients," he answered. The waiter finally came with our coffee and set it in front of us. All the while, I was thinking about what he was saying.

What word on the street? I didn't hear any of it.

"Michael J. Howerd, one of the intelligent and finest lawyers of this generation even took Spencer's case in review, but decided not to take it because there weren't any loopholes. It's all over in Detroit as soon as she first started," he explained.

After taking a gulp of his coffee, he finally came up with a conclusion that I couldn't accept. "I could offer you the money."

"I don't want to trouble anyone, Mr...Richard," I said, feeling tears in my eyes again. He sighed. "Then what the hell are you going to do now, Samantha?"

"I'll just have to live with it," I finally muttered. "I could pay it all off, I promise."

"And how would you do that?" he asked, sounding almost curious. I shook my head. "I don't know yet but I've been troubling everyone for 7 years. Ever since I've stepped foot into your house, Richard."

He was about to protest until I gave him a look, and he ended up reluctantly nodding. I knew that even Richard wasn't ready to give away 900k.

...But the offer was so tempting to accept--

No. Samantha, shut up.

"I'd better get going," he said, looking at his watch. I suddenly feel like a business partner. I nodded and shook his hand. "Thank you," I said. He managed a small smile and said, "I hope you'll do well, Samantha. But my offer would still be open, give me a ring if you ever want to change your mind."

"Okay."