Southern Belle

Ch. 10 Southern Smooch

"So, let me get what you're saying. You want us to marry our hypothetical daughter off to the head of another company's son, so we can merge and become richer?" I asked, dumbfounded. My eyes widened in realization, and I barely could speak.

Nick was bouncing up and down on his seat like a little child. A grin was plastered on his face, and he looked like he was constipated. "Yes! It's a perfect plan! What could possibly go wrong?"

I cocked my head to the side and planted my right hand firmly onto my hip.

Was he serious?

"Well, maybe the guy won't want to marry our daughter," I stated matter-of-factly. My voice had a bit of confidence in it. I tapped my foot as I waited for his dumbass response.

Nick rolled his eyes. "Of course he'll want to marry her. She's a Monroe after all. My family is considered to be very attractive." He smirked cockily and brushed off imaginary lint from his left shoulder using his right hand. The smirk disappeared quickly though, and he pouted. "Well, unless she inherited your looks. Then, we might have a problem."

My lips set in a firm line. I inhaled and exhaled slowly for a second, attempting to refrain myself from punching him in the face. Normally, I would've just ignored his insults. But, today, I felt extremely unfortunate-looking.

Elise, to say the least, wasn't too overjoyed to find her precious bear hanging in a noose. Brynn swore that she heard her screams all the way from the coffee shop. When I got home, I expected her to attack me as soon I stepped foot into the room. However, the opposite happened. She sat on the couch, as usual, doing her homework. She acted as if I wasn't there. Needless to say, I was so happy.

Happy until I washed my hair later that night. 

After exiting the shower, I looked at myself in the mirror. Instead of staring at a blond-haired, lanky girl with a bird's nest for hair, I saw a smurf.

That bitch put blue dye into my shampoo and conditioner.

It took approximately nine washes to turn my hair color from a dark blue to a baby blue. I scheduled an appointment at a nearby salon to get the remaining dye washed out, but the only appointment available was next week.

So, I, Belle Wilkes, will be a motherfucking smurf for a whole damn week.

"What if she doesn't want to marry that guy because she's in love with another guy?" I proposed, now crossing my arms below my chest. My eyes squinted slightly. I wanted to win this battle.

Nick huffed and sighed. With both his hands, he flattened his crisp, navy blue polo and then ran his hands through his hair. After blinking four or five times, he replied, "Who cares? Marriages aren't based on love. They're based on money and power. Do you think my parents loved each other? Puh-lease. My mother was twenty-two years younger than my father." While he was speaking, his eyes were glued to the table top. Now, he was staring at me straight in the eye. Bloodshot and teary, his eyes had water brimming on their lids.

I gasped, my eyes becoming as large as soccer balls. For one, I was shocked that he would reveal something so personal to me.

He hated me, and yet, he was so open to me.

"Well, no daughter of mine is going to be forced to marry. Let's move on, and we'll continue to argue about the arranged marriage later," I mumbled while fumbling with my thumbs. I wanted to hear more about his parents, but I knew that it must have been a touchy subject to him. I dropped my eyes from his and looked at my white sneakers.

After three minutes of silence, Nick spoke. His voice was soft and shaky. "How's the budget going?"

I immediately bent down and grabbed my lime green backpack. I had the bag since eighth grade, so it had a few rips, and the color was faded quite a bit. Since the zippers broke a few years ago, I easily stuffed my hand into the bag and founded the bent yellow folder with our financial papers. I smacked open the folder, and with my right hand's pointer finger and thumb, I removed the sheet titled, "Budget."