Osei: Congratulations on your engagement ??
Me: Not funny ??
Osei: I’ll be home soon, and we can celebrate your future nuptials.
Me: He said next week for the nuptials, is this a good idea?
Osei: Living in luxury, lawyers working for you, two-million-dollar … good idea, yes.
I let out a loud, frustrated grunt. First, I must survive the three years being his fake wife. He sounds and smells so much like mybalcony guy, but it can’t be him because he doesn’t like me. The balcony guy saw my face. Luke and I met for the first time when Osei introduced us. So, it can’t be him—my mind is just playing tricks on me.
Note to self: I must conceal my monumental attraction to Mr. Enigma Blythe, the one who dislikes me. Damn it! This is going to take a lot of strength from me, especially when I only have strength for work and study. I let out another frustrated sigh because in seven days, I’ll be Mrs. Luke Blythe. That sounds scary in ways I can’t express. It’s something I never imagined. Life is throwing me lemons with a life jacket—like I need to make lemonade while wearing a life jacket to protect my traitorous heart from Luke Blythe, the enigma and known serial dater.
I roll to my side and dream of my happy place. The monster in my dreams tries to invade my happy place. I push at them; they get bigger, and I keep fighting until Osei wakes me up with a shake.
“Hey, I got us dinner.” I nod and pick up my phone, only to see two text messages from Luke.
Luke: I’ll send the movers to come and get your things tomorrow.
Luke: The document and your ring will be waiting for you at our place.
What the fuck?!I barely said yes, and he’s already packing up my bags. I turn my phone to Osei in anger. He reads and cracks up.
“My brother acts fast,” he says with a laugh.This isn’t funny. I haven’t even placed my mind and body in a sealed box away from him, and he’s already packing up my bags.
In that mischievous smile, I see his resemblance to Luke.
“I didn’t say I was going to move in with him,” I blurt out. Osei laughs even louder.
“You’re joking, right, Dele?” he laughs more. “If you are marrying him, of course, you’re going to live with him.” I realize that I sound stupid. How do I expect to answer any immigration questions about us if I’m not?Holy shit.
This isn’t good; sheer willpower was what I used to control my wanting him earlier. I’m going to need to summon every ounce of strength to shield my desire for him. A good thing is he has zero interest in me, and that should be a turnoff for me. I just need to remind myself of that little fact: he doesn’t want me.
I can’t tee up a smart and convincing response to Osei. “Where is our dinner?” I ask instead.
Following Osei out to the kitchen, my mind drifts back to the first time Osei brought me lunch and introduced me to his brother Luke, whom I had heard so much about and was eager to meet. One thing Osei failed to mention was that his brother wasTHELuke Blythe—the enigmatic billionaire and the ladies’ man of the year. I was just ready to meet my bestie’s brother, Luke. Only, he wasn’t just Osei’s brother; he was also one of the richest guys in this city. And to my surprise, I had an instant attraction to him that felt exactly like my mystery balcony guy, something I’d failed to mention to Osei.
My attraction dried up in the awkward moment when he barely looked at me or shook my hand. Osei had pulled me into a hug and whispered, “I’m sorry, baby twin, Luke doesn’t take the time to get to know any girl. He can’t understand how wonderful you are.” He made me smile before heading to his car. I watched Luke follow Osei without a backward glance.
Unable to discern what had happened, I went back to work and kept my focus, placing Luke in the category of people I must ignore.
Living with him should be easy, right? Since it’s clear he doesn’t like me. I won’t be in his way, that’s for sure. This isstrictly business. More overtime and study time await me. Then London.
Chapter 8
DELE
After class, I follow the usual routine—head to work. I keep my focus on my job and my upcoming exams. I also make sure to shut my phone off. I don’t need any more texts from Luke. It’s as if he refuses to be on the back-burner. Before dinner with Osei last night, I’d already received several texts from him:
Luke: The movers will be there around 2PM; Osei mentioned he will be home.
Luke: Osei will give you the address and the key to our place.
Luke: A stylist will stop by to measure you for your dress.
Luke: Text me the name of your lawyer.
We’d finished eating and cleaned up when Osei handed me the keys, address, and garage code to the building. I put them in my backpack, refusing to think about the implications, while reminding myself of what's at stake if I back out now.