Papers for Roses

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty

Wade

Wade hung his head low.

Frustration gripped his spine. His knuckles were as white as the snow as it rested on the cold-misted tile of the shower wall. The furrow on his forehead continued to deepen as was his lips that were curling into a snarl. Droplets of water rushed down his seething physique while the conversation he had with his father a few minutes ago actively provoked his rage-clouded mind.

"Dad." His tone was unusually unclipped compared with their past exchange.

"What are you doing?" asked Benjamin in a cold voice. There was a pregnant pause, no doubt his dad was trying to disguise his anger. "Are you out of your mind? You married a Carmichael—"

"I know."

"—what do you think does that say about us?!" Benjamin bellowed. "David is going to sue you. He's going to file for harassment, domestic abuse... he's going to take advantage of this situation! I thought we already discussed this. We are stable now. Didn't you think you are going to lose everything over this?"

Wade closed his eyes, his fist closing on the phone on his ear. "He can't do that."

"And why?"

He quickly summarized the nature of their relationship. The infinite agreements he made her sign, the benefits she could gain from the marriage and how oblivious she was from his true intentions (which Wade didn't elaborate to his father). Benjamin listened intently but as their discussion progressed, the memories of the past began to play in his head.

Wade ended the call before he could break the phone into pieces.

x.x.x

Megan

The predatory gleam creating goosebumps in its wake as the white, pristine suit circled her squirming petite body.

Megan peered at the immaculate suit out of the corner of her eye while she zealously tried to steady her footing. Louise Hudson— forty-four and gifted with a height of a model— scrutinized her with a critical green eye. The woman made her stand directly under the heat by the floor-to-ceiling window that overlooked the beauty of Central Park but then closed the remote-controlled curtain less than two seconds later. In five minutes, she saw how dark her hair is, how her skin looked under the sunlight, room-light, and in a mutedly illuminated room, and what color and texture of fabric suited well with her physical features.

"34 on the chest, 25 on the waist and 32 on the hips," she said finally. Megan tried to suppress a sigh of relief, though, the tension on her shoulders visibly loosened. "Your skin has a neutral undertone and your hair was healthy ebony. You also have a rather sharp visage—" she raised a questioning thick eyebrow at Louise's choice of word "—but the soft shade of blue of your eyes was a welcoming contrast for your overall beauty. Yet you are very short in height. How fast do you gain weight?"

"Uh... I haven't changed my wardrobe for two years," Megan answered. "I have an odd habit of checking nutrition facts to keep an eye on my calorie intake every day."

Louise gave her a long look. "How many calories are there in a glass of red wine?" Megan tried to remember for she recalled Googling it the night before. Yet she came up with nothing. "Don't volunteer facts about yourself you can't justify on the spot," Louise scolded her firmly as the woman brushed a red curl behind her ear.

Megan glared at her. "Pardon but I don't intend to be a nutritionist."

"I like to take a look at your wardrobe," Louise announced, ignoring her. "Your husband wanted me to bring you to the mall today so you can look at my purchase and decide what you want yourself. He mentioned you have an abomination of surprises."