Sold to The Playboy With Two Girls on His Arm [Watty Awards 2011]

Chapter 1

I’m having lunch with Logan and his parents today. This should be interesting. His parents are possibly worse then him, really posh, stuck up and look down on anyone who isn’t as rich or posh as they are. So really I don’t know why they even bother with matching me with Logan because I couldn’t give stuff about manners and etiquette.

Well, of course I am polite but I don’t care for posh things and ‘high’ tea. I don’t care to poke people in the eye with my pinkie finger!

“Violet! Wear something nice please!” my mother scolded when I walked out of my room in black skinny jeans, an AC/DC t-shit and converse.

“This is nice mom!” I groaned as she pushed me back in to my room and pushed me on to my messy double bed with scrunched up purple blankets. My mother thinks she’s posh. She always has, that’s why when I got a job at the local pizza shop and started my own clothes she nearly had a heart attack. Anything that pisses my mom off makes my life a little bit tolerable.

“Don’t kid yourself Violet! You will the dress that I laid out for you and you will wear heels!” she ordered as she picked up the white dress with blue flowers off the floor and started to smooth it out.

“Uh no … if you’re selling me to a rich family I’m gonna wear what I want.” I stated and sat on my bed and stared at her intently.

“We aren’t selling you Violet!” she huffed. “It’s called an arranged marriage, and you can’t get out of it. We only want you to be happy!” she said as handed me the dress that I refused to wear. “Fine you can wear what you like but you have to wear the heels and please change your shirt. You are meeting with some very important people, Violet!” my mother begged. I rolled my eyes and nodded as I kicked off my beloved converse.

“How about this one, Mom?” I asked as I walked over to my closet and pulled out a top similar to the dress that she had chosen for me. I knew this was important to her and no matter how much she irritated and frustrated me at times I always wanted to make her happy. The happier is, the tolerable she is to live with. This most likely won’t be long seeing as though I’m getting married in three months.

“Perfect!” she grinned and hung up my dress and walked out my room.

“Yeah perfect…” I mumbled when she closed the door. I pulled of my AC/DC shirt and slipped on the frilly top that was possibly a size too small.

I looked at myself in the mirror and decided that I would leave my tousled light brown hair down and applied a little mascara before I left. “You look beautiful, V!” my dad exclaimed as I walked to the stairs trying not to break my ankle on the black pumps my mom hand made me wear. At least I got to wear my jeans I though.

“Thanks dad.” I smiled lightly and went over to the kitchen bench where my mom was cooking bacon and eggs. It smelt awesome and I couldn’t wait to dig in. “Yum! Smells great mom!” I cooed as I leaned over her shoulder and tried to pick a piece of crispy bacon out of the pan.

Mom slapped my hand away. “Violet! You’re on a diet! You’ll have to pose a few pounds to fit in to your wedding dress.” She said rudely.