In Love With My Bully

The ride back to my house was tense, this time in a limousine. Junior sat beside me and I made sure to create enough space between the both of us. I stared out the window to avoid looking at him.

"So," he began, "You didn't answer my question. Why do you act like I have the plague?"

"Maybe because you're annoying," I answered still not bothering to look at him.

"Well, you are marrying me. You need to deal with it." he countered.

I finally turned to face him. "I want it on paper – the contract."

"Oh… uhm, okay. I will reach out to my lawyer and get back to you on that," he said, leaning closer. "Looks like you don't trust me either, Princess. If you're going to hate me, at least let me know why."

I sighed heavily, he really was as overbearing as he was as a teenager. "Don't call me that either and I have no reason to trust you."

"Fine. If that's how you want it, so be it."

When we arrived at my house, the driver opened the door for me to get out. I walked up to our front door and watched the car drive out the gate. I hoped I wouldn't be seeing him anytime soon.

As the limousine disappeared into the night, I entered our house, feeling a mix of anger and helplessness. But one thing was clear: if Junior thought this was going to be a smooth ride, he had another thing coming.

*****

I had just settled into my chair at work when chaos erupted. The receptionist called over the intercom: "Miss Williams, there's… uh… a car here for you."

My stomach dropped. A car here for me meant only one thing, I was being invaded by a Numero on a Monday morning. Which one of them was it? Numero Senior, Mama Numero or Idiot Numero?

I strolled to the lobby and sure enough, parked outside was a black SUV with tinted windows. The chauffeur, a different one from Saturday night and looking more like a bodyguard and not a driver, opened the door for me like I was royalty.

"Miss Williams," he said with a small bow. "Mr. Numero requests your presence."

My life had become a frigging Bridgerton movie. "Which Mr. Numero precisely?"

"Mr Numero Junior," he clarified.

"Mr. Numero 'Junior' can request all he likes. I'm working," I snapped and gestured for him to leave.

The man didn't flinch. Well, he could stand there all day. Mr Numero Junior could kiss my ass. I turned back into the building, sitting comfortably at my desk when my boss appeared out of nowhere. "Ah, Miss Williams, good news! You can take the day off."

"What? I'm in the middle of preparing the audits for Sweet Royale Catering Services,"

"Oh, don't worry about that," he said, "Go ahead, take the day."

It didn't take a genius to figure out the Numero name was behind this generosity. He shoved my purse at me and 'assisted' me in closing my laptop. I stormed out of the office determined to give Junior an earful the moment I set my eyes on him.

*****

Twenty minutes later, I found myself in a luxurious law office. The place looked like it was built and furnished by old money. Junior was already there in the reception sitting in an oversized chair like he owned the place and honestly speaking, from the little I had learned about the Numeros in three days, he probably did.

"You're late," he said without expression.

"I was working," I shot back.

"A Numero wife doesn't work at some—what was it again?—accounting firm?"

"I am not a Numero wife… yet. Besides, what am I supposed to be doing while you're off being the boss of the world?"

"You are my fiancee and your job will be to host galas, attend charity events, and smile at cameras. You're welcome."

"Great. A glorified mannequin, you think that's all I want out of my life – for my life! You think that I didn't have a plan before you oh… so graciously walked into my life," I said, rolling my eyes. "Let me tell you something, Junior. I worked my butt off to get that job. You don't get to waltz in and control my life. I refuse to let you strip me of my dignity!"

He stood up ceremoniously, his muscles flexing. I reminded myself I wasn't a girl anymore so I stood my ground, not flinching.

"Don't you ever… call me Junior." Out of everything I said, that's what he heard?

"What the hell am I supposed to call you? I have always known you as Junior,"

"Wh…"

He was interrupted by the lawyer, a middle-aged man clearing his throat. "Perhaps we should discuss the contract?"

Junior gestured to him. "Go ahead." We followed him quietly into his office and sat across from him. He slid a document across the table. I carefully studied each page.

"I want a clause added that says I have the right to a job."

"Fine," Junior said. "Add it." He gestured to the lawyer. This seemed too easy. I should probably push my luck a little bit more.

"And," I added, "I get a couple days a month to myself, anywhere I want to."

"Done," Junior said, "Anything else, Princess? A private island, perhaps?"

I ignored him and turned to the lawyer. "Also, if this arrangement ends, I want the option to disappear with zero strings attached."

The lawyer scribbled on his notepad, his glasses sitting low on his nose.

Junior raised an eyebrow. "You planning your escape already?"

"Just being thorough," I said sweetly. "You know, like a good accountant."

*****

After two hours of editing and re-editing, the contract was finished. Junior signed and then handed the pen to me. "Your turn,"

I signed my name across the paper and slapped it shut. "Done. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have reports to finish."

Junior walked me to the car, a pissed look on his face. "You think you won, don't you?"

"I don't think. I know."

As I got into the car, he leaned in and whispered, "I'll see you tomorrow. Wear something acceptable, accountant." There was a wicked glint in his eye and I had the feeling, that I had won the battle but lost the war.

I gave him the finger and shut the door. It was immature, but ooooh, so satisfying.