Marriage by Law

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37

“Who are we waiting for?” I asked, hearing my stomach grumble in hunger. I just wanted to order already.

Darius’s words in the elevator were still stuck in my head. So it was my mum who bought the ring. Well, I was not surprised. But the question is, they just let her? But then again, she was damn persistent on planning the whole thing.

“Yea, I’m fuc*ing hungry.”

Both Darius and I sent Adrian a sharp look. After complaining about the ring being stuck, we had left him in the bathroom but the guy had to take the stairs and beat us down here, sitting angrily at the table. Not to mention that he was probably in a lot of pain, or maybe he was just faking for attention. Either way his swearing was out of control.

“We are waiting for James, Adrian. Stop it,” snapped Darius as Adrian started to tear another serviette up. James?

Darius made eye contact with me and I gave him an annoyed look. “I had to,” he explained. The last thing I wanted was to have James sitting at the table.

Adrian drummed his fingers on the table and I bit back a laugh at his hand. It was purple. I was sure it needed medical attention, but he wanted to eat with us before going to the hospital or goldsmith to get it cut off.

“Your fingers are puny,” Adrian told me.

“No one told you to wear it,” I told him with a shake of my head. His finger was too fat for the ring that the area around it was turning purple. I just hope it didn’t cause too much damage that the finger has to be cut off.

“You should go now,” I said, feeling concerned. But Adrian only shrugged. At least he had washed the damn ring or his hand. If I saw mould or hair on it, I would throw up in his face.

“I’m hungry,” Adrian complained. I was, too.

“Are you hungry?” Darius asked us.

“I just said that, duh,” snapped Adrian, annoyed.

“A bit,” I said, shrugging. “I don’t mind waiting.”

I minded, a lot, only because I knew how James liked to take a decade to get ready and make a ‘fashionably late entrance’. It isn’t fashionable or late when you show up at the ending. It’s over, that’s what it was.

Darius turned around motioning for the waiter to come.

“We can wait,” I suggested but my voice was lost as Adrian told the waiter to bring everything on their breakfast menu and then proceeded to tell how he wanted his eggs done.

I asked Darius, “So what is this? A business meeting?”

Darius shrugged as he leaned back in his chair. “In a way.”

I rolled my eyes. Then again he did come to France to work, not for recreational purposes. I tapped my fingers on the table as I watched Adrian do whatever he was doing that was earning disapproval stares from Darius.

He reached over, trying to pry away the serviette but Adrian snatched it at back.

“You’re like a kid,” I commented as I watched Adrian. He looked at me and flashed me a grin.

He proudly said, “I’m giving you practice for when you guys get your kids. Oooooh, can you name him after me? Adrian, the coolest uncle in the world. Or if it’s a girl, Adriana, the coolest. Wait, I will still be the coolest uncle in the world.”

I shook my head at him. If anything, he would be a bad influence on my kids. I watched him scrunch the serviette and sighed, turning around to see Darius watching me.

“What?”

“Would you want kids?”

Kids. Would I want kids? Wasn’t it my duty to have kids? Which was very sexist, but it made me think of my stupid high school lunches and smiled.

“What?” Darius looked interested.

“I was voted most likely to be an octo-mum,” I laughingly told him. He gave me a curious look, tilting his head as he tried to understand what I said.

“You know, year book. Ring a bell?”

His blank stare told me either it didn’t or they had a more posh version called something completely different.

“It’s the book where people vote for like, you know, the most likely to become a movie star, the most likely to be a druggie. I was voted most likely to be an octo-mum, have eight kids,” I said, shaking my head. “It was a silly thing.”

“Eight kids?”

“Yep, eight.”

“What made you want eight kids?!” He really looked surprised.

I laughed and shook my head. “No, it wasn’t meant to be eight. It was five. I wanted five.”

If Darius thought I was some crazy lady before, he probably thought I was even crazier now.

“Five?” he said in disbelief. I shrugged.

“I did, back when I was a kid,” I said nervously. What if he didn’t want kids? Would he be good with kids? I mean, he was good with Adrian, but that was different. Even if Adrian was a kid ninety percent of the time, he still knew how to take care of himself, sort of.

“That’s a lot,” Darius said after a pause. “Well, I’m not complaining. I don’t mind five kids, or six, then we can have equal genders.”

“No, it must be four boys and one girl.”

“What?”

“And it must be in the order of, male, twin males, female and then male.”

His eyes grew as huge as saucers. “Sorry, what?”

“And apparently to have twins, it has to run in your family so you go research if your granddad or whoever was a twin, or else I can’t have twins.”

I saw the look on his face. “I told you,” I said, more embarrassed than before. “I had this planned out when I was a kid. I even have their names figured out.”

The corner of Darius’ lips twitched upward in a grin. It wasn’t a smirk and it wasn’t one of his full face smiles that made my stomach flip. It was one that was crooked and made my stomach churn, and I wasn’t sure if it was my hunger or his face.

“Their names, alright. What are they?”

“Not telling,” I said. “Oh look, food.”

Saved by the waiter, whew! And if I thought I was bad, Adrian was much worse. He jumped up and grabbed the plate from the waiter before the latter could even put it down. Then Adrian shooed him away, telling him to bring more food to the table.

Adrian, like a child, glared at us and growled, “Mine. Get your own.”

I frowned, staring down at him for acting like a savage starved beast.

The moment was ruined when I heard someone say, “Ah, so everyone is here.” I looked up and immediately regretted seeing his mango face that was hideous.

Dressed in probably one of his ‘rich’ suits, James stood at the table looking around with his nose in the air. His suit was silver and the shirt inside was a horrible shade of violet.

The suit was shimmery. Maybe if you rubbed at it, you can use it as a mirror.

Darius stood up, shaking his hand and telling him to take a seat. If I was Darius, I would have put a meat pie on James’ seat beforehand. No, maybe a sharp needle and super glue. Yes, that would be perfect.

Darius cleared his throat beside me and I looked at him. “What?”

“You look quite murderous.”

“I’m hungry,” I huffed, looking around for the waiter. Now I felt like Adrian.

The waiter came with food shortly after Darius and James started talking and I wanted to get out of here. His cologne was overpowering, it was like he swam in it and decided to present us with his graciousness.

God, it was horrible. And by the way Adrian was crazily sniffing his bacon, I think it was affecting him, too.

I picked up a tomato with my fork and inspected it as I heard James speak up again. “So, Darius, isn’t your secretary meant to join us?” And his wicked eyes met mine and I glared at him. What was he trying to accomplish?


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