The Contract Scheme

I finished up my last bite of pizza and wiped my hands clean on a napkin. My office was quiet, except for the low hum of my laptop fan. My fingers moved swiftly over the keyboard, reciting legal phrases I'd memorized from countless sample contracts.

After double-checking every clause, I reached for a sleek black contract folder. I carefully printed the documents, slid them inside the folder, and stapled the final page with a firm press.

I stare at the contract lying innocently on my desk. The agreements were standard. Well, almost. Damian's 'public affection' clause stood out like a neon sign. Was this really about keeping up appearances, or was he just planning to amuse himself at my expense? My stomach turned slightly at the thought.

I picked up my phone and typed:

"I'll be bringing it myself."

The reply came almost immediately.

"Cool."

Short. Blunt. Typical Damian.

I leaned back in my chair, staring up at the ceiling. I ran the contract over in my head again. The dates. The terms. The loopholes, or lack thereof. It felt like shackles. Especially that public affection clause.

How was I supposed to tell Mum?

Mum might actually take it well. She might even recognize Damian, being that he was a son of one of her husband's friends.

The day dragged by in a fog of nervous energy. By evening, I found myself standing outside Arclight Company, the folder clutched tightly in my hand.

I pushed through the doors. The receptionist gave me a polite nod. Without a word, she gestured toward Damian's office.

I walked past her desk and straight into the office. I spotted Damian standing by a bookshelf, probably looking for something. I helped myself to a chair.

"You didn't knock," Damian's voice floated toward me from the bookshelf where he stood, his back turned.

"I forgot," I said flatly. "Let's get this over with quickly."

He turned, strolling back to his desk with casual grace. I placed the contract folder in front of him.

"A pen," he said, holding out his hand.

"Don't you have one?"

"This attitude of yours is going to attract something you wouldn't like." His lips curled into a smirk.

I rolled my eyes. "Sign the damn contract, Damian."

He grabbed a pen from his desk, clicked it, and signed. He slid the pen over to me.

I stared at it for a second. Then, I signed.

Well done, Rachel. You've just signed away a year of your life.

He leaned back in his chair. "So, how do we relay this to our families. Individually or together? At an event, maybe?"

"I'd rather we do it individually."

"Fine. What exactly are we telling them?"

I gave him a blank stare before the answer formed in my mind. "Simple. We've been dating for about eight months, but kept it a secret because of publicity and drama."

A slow grin spread across his face. "You're not very good at lying, are you?."

"That's none of your business." I stood, ready to leave.

"Rachel," he called out.

I turned, stiffening at the way he said my name, like it belonged to him. I didn't like that. It made my skin crawl...or tingle rather.

"Yes?"

"This is going to be interesting."

I didn't reply. I didn't even look at him. I walked out

I arrived home feeling flustered and wound up tighter than a spring. Was Damian doing this for a laugh, or was he genuinely following through with his father's wishes?

I hurried upstairs to my room, where I shed my clothes and slipped into the bathroom.

The water in the bath melted the tension in my muscles like magic. I sank deeper, letting the heat seep into my bones, soothing away the remnants of the day.

I closed my eyes, relishing the rare peace.

When I finally stepped out, I wrapped myself in a soft towel before slipping into a silk gown. I exhaled deeply, gathering what courage I could for dinner.

Downstairs, the dining room buzzed with low murmurs. Mum. Aunt Vera. The workers. The moment I walked in, Aunt Vera's sharp eyes pinned me down. Great.

"Mum," I said lightly, "can I speak to you after dinner?"

Mum looked up from her wine glass. "Sure, baby."

We ate in silence, but the air was thick with unsaid words. Aunt Vera kept throwing glances my way, her fork scraping against the porcelain plate just a little too loudly. Mum kept sipping her wine, her eyes darting between us all.

"So," Aunt Vera began, her tone just sweet enough to sting, "I hear Aiden's back in town. Rachel, dear, aren't you thrilled?"

"Not particularly," I said quietly.

Aunt Vera's eyes twinkled with malicious curiosity. "Oh? I thought you two were-"

"We're not," I cut in firmly.

Mum cleared her throat. "Let's leave Rachel out of this, Vera."

Vera smirked, "Of course."

The rest of dinner passed in a tense silence.

Later, I knocked gently on Mum's door.

"Come in, honey," she called.

I stepped inside, closing the door softly behind me. Mum sat at her vanity, brushing out her long hair.

"Mum... I have something to tell you."

She turned, her eyes sharp with curiosity. "Yes?"

I took a breath. "I'm marrying Damian."

She stared at me blankly "And who is Damian?"

"Westwood. Damian Westwood" I answered.

"Westwood of Arclight?"

"Yes, mum"

The brush slipped from her hand.

"Christ, Rachel! Why didn't you tell me earlier?"

I shrugged, trying to play it cool. "I was trying to decide if I really wanted to marry him."

Mum shook her head in disbelief. "Oh, no. Now I have to tell Mr. Raymond not to worry. How do I even go about that?"

"That's your problem, not mine."

She stared at me for a long moment. Then, her expression softened.

"My baby's getting married." She rose and cupped my face in her hands.

"Yeah, Mum," I said quietly. More like I'm signing my life away... for just a year, of course.