Waking Up with a Ring on My Finger and a Bad Boy at My Side [11]

Sometimes, when I woke up in the morning, I didn't want to face the fact that I was trying to save my own life from crumbling down. On those kind of mornings, I always confided my worst fears to Brandon. And he would put his arm around my shoulder, a tad sleepily and kissed my forehead.

He would always say comforting words and helpful advices too. It was like I was sleeping with Dr. Phil.

...That came out wrong.

But on this particular morning, it was as if there was a big, black cloud hovering above my head. Now that Brandon was really here, next to me, I felt repulsive. God, that freaking contract. "Sam," he finally said when he saw me squirming around.

"Sorry, did I woke you up?" I said in a very strained voice. One might thought I was singing in a horrible opera or something. He cocked his eyebrow, ignoring me for a second. "You're tense from yesterday, what the hell is wrong?"

Okay, another thing about Brandon was that he was very observant, especially towards me. Whenever I was thinking about some negative thing too much, he would pick it up. Honestly, I really should grin all the time, but I didn't want to freak him out.

"I'm fine--"

Oh who was I kidding? I was no where NEAR fine.

"--I'm just a bit sick--"

Of Evelyn.

"--need some rest."

From the wedding planning from hell.

I looked away as quickly as I could. I was literally trembling in his arms. What the hell could I say to him? "Hi Brandon, I know you've reminded me to read something before you sign it and after what you did a few years back I always...ALWAYS do that...until that little time...let's just say I have to pay a leg to get out of the contract."

What the hell was I expecting him to say anyway? That he would give me the money? That sounded so...wrong. Maybe I should just call Richard and--

No. I would solve this myself remember? I didn't want to burden anybody.

Oh fuck, I really should stop making a face as if I saw a ghost.

"Sweetheart," he whispered softly, stroking my hair. "If you're really that sick then I'll call the doctor for you. I can take the entire day off if I can," he said and I chuckled. "Stop it. I'm not that sick. I have a reception to arrange."

"About that, I thought you said you wanted to take a break from it all until after our wedding," he said sternly. I shook my head and said, "...Evelyn is managing it now," I said through my gritted teeth.

Every time I said her name, I visualize her face. And every time I did that, I wanted to rip someone's eyeballs out. I sat up on the bed and asked Brandon, "What do you want for breakfast."

"Nothing. I have a breakfast meeting," he said, frowning bitterly. "But I'm all yours for dinner," he said, a tad teasingly as he winked.

Okay, I'll tell him on dinner then.

...

Right?

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Brandon walked briskly into the hotel lobby. He wasn't in the mood to meet Martin, a client of theirs that morning because...well, to be honest he was looking forward to spend at least an hour with Samantha.

He couldn't stop thinking about why she was acting so weird this morning though. Which got him worried.

He pushed the glass doors and walked into the quaint restaurant at the far side of the right wing of the lobby, right next to the gym and the swimming pool. The aroma of bacon, eggs and strong coffee greeted him.

"Brandon Compton!" Martin Hutchins said, standing up to shake his hand and patted his back. Brandon never liked it when people did that to him. It's as if there were his long lost friends or something.

"Martin," he replied. "Now what's this I've heard about one of your investors pulled out of--"

"Brandon!" a high-pitched voice squealed and he stopped mid-sentence to turn around. He didn't mean to be rude, but Evelyn Spencer's voice grabbed attention anywhere she went to...it was almost frightening in a way.

And then he started to wonder why the hell did she always appeared when he had some important meeting or reunion. Like that night where Evelyn along with a few of his friends practically forced him to accept Evelyn to be his wedding planner.

Fatigued and flummoxed, he agreed anyway.

"Err," he started. "Oh my god, you're Martin Hutchins!" she cut him off instantly. "Hmm...Eva wasn't it?"

"Evelyn," she said, rather annoyed that Martin didn't remembered her name. Somehow, it amused Brandon for a second, before he realized the situation here. "We've met at a lecture about business and marketing," Evelyn whispered to him.

"Can I borrow him for a sec?" Evelyn said loudly this time to Martin. He was baffled. "It's really important. You see, his fiance wanted to fire me! Can you believe it?!" she giggled.

Brandon rubbed the back of his neck. Did she now? Well, he guessed that was a bit predictable in some ways. And here he really thought that The Plaza was--

"But the thing is...there's this contract and I'm sure she told you already, Brandon. She sounded really keen on firing me," she said, rolling her eyes. Brandon stopped himself from asking what the heck was she talking about.

She pulled out something in her huge shocking pink bag (almost blinded him actually) and showed them to him. The papers with Samantha's signature at the bottom of the page. "And since you know...you're her rich fiance and everything, I figured that you would be handling this finance problem of hers."

"What is...wha..." he stopped himself when he finally saw the sentence. $900,000 total in cash for the penalty. That was outrageous! "You're saying that she really wants to pull out of this?"

"Yeah, she even called me last night to say that I should stop planning," Evelyn said, rolling her eyes. Brandon grimaced, trying to calm himself down. But she said last night she was calling her aunt.

Absent-mindedly, his fingers clenched the papers tightly in his fist.