Page 18 of Doctor I Do

“Sitting outside. I quit Frank’s.” I turn around, looking back at the glass door leading into the coffeehouse, relieved I’m never going back.

“Finally. Well, remember, your father and I have told you that when you turn twenty-five, if you aren’t married, you won’t get your inheritance from your grandfather. Your stake stays with us to sell to another investor. That would be unfortunate. You know Emerald Designs is a good job. Well paying. You become the majority stake owner. Be your own boss...”

How could I forget? The Adam’s family fashion business; Emerald Design’s.

My parents took over the business from my Grandfather, who passed away recently.

“Mom, women don’t need to be married off at twenty-five. They can run businesses and be happily single,” I argue.

“Your grandfather made the clause. I have no power to change it.”

Blowing out a breath, I run my hand through my hair and scratch the base of my neck. I’m not even dating, let alone engaged to be married.

His death was unexpected. So, to think about owning a majority of stake in a business I knew nothing about, in a short amount of time, was too much pressure. It’s like there’s a countdown hovering over my head.

But now, I know, I want to learn about the business. My inheritance. A fulfilling future. There’s just one major problem. I don’t want a husband.

I pause for a moment too long, because she adds, “You know we have a handsome young man who comes from a great family. You’ve met Ma—"

“I’m dating a guy named Alex,” I blurt without thinking.

I’m lying to my mother.

I’m so going to hell for this.

Why do I need to be married, or settle down? Yes, I live with friends and go out clubbing to Luxe. I know they disapprove of it all, but I want to live like a normal twenty-four-year-old, not the old-fashioned way they want me to. I’ve never given them a reason not to trust me, but they continually want to control my future.

“And you won’t marry him?”

Date him is one thing, but to marry him.

“I don’t know what he’s thinking,” I lie again, because I don’t know what else to say now that I’ve started this.

I stare out at the people walking around, couples holding hands, kissing, all the things a couple would do. Could I hold his hand, cuddle him, or worse, kiss him like we’re dating?

Yes. It’s not like I’ll get attached.

I just need to do this until I get my part of the business transferred to me.

Could I get him to go along with it?

I hope so. I probably should have thought of that important bit before.

“So, how is it going between you? This is the first time you’ve mentioned him,” she presses, pulling me from my wandering thoughts.

I close my eyes and squeeze my neck before throwing my hand in the air. Why did I think it was a good idea to lie?!

“We’re good, Mom. I was going to tell you and Dad next time I saw you.”

“When do we get to meet him?”

And by we, I know she means her and my father.

I chuckle, but it’s not a light, funny one, it’s an awkward, strained one.

“Soon.”

She gasps excitedly, and I almost feel bad, but I need to take this chance at a career change and a way to make something of myself. Make myself proud. I’m desperate for this chance, and I’m willing to sacrifice a little to make this happen. I’m going to blame the movie Maddison and I watched the other night with this ‘fake dating’ premise.

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