Sentenced to Marriage by MadlainQ

Chapter 2

 

Once I collected all the pieces of my lost rationality, my eyes shifted to the counter, and I slowly made my way there. As I glanced at Marco, I saw his eyes tracing the handsome and shameless guy taking his seat at the table upstairs. Monique shot him a look and chuckled.

 

“You’re drooling,” she said, smugly pointing at the corner of his lips.

 

I smiled awkwardly and hurried to put the dishes into the sink, wishing to erase the last two minutes of my memory. I had never been the type of fangirl who would easily let some handsome guy sweep her off her feet. That black-haired man in a suit was bad news, and I could feel it in my gut. After a brief inward debate, I decided that my temporal insanity was caused by a shock. My brain had become vulnerable due to exhaustion, which allowed me to be affected by the suit’s good looks. As soon as I found this explanation, I felt better. With that figured out, I knew that I wouldn’t let it happen again, and I had the best possible strategy to keep it that way: I was going to avoid the guy.

 

“So…” Monique grinned teasingly while tangling the strands of her hair around her finger. “What are you waiting for? Grab the menu and go upstairs,” she said, smirking at me.

 

I almost choked on the air I breathed. “Not a chance. I’m not going. Marco should do it,” I claimed decisively.

 

“Girl, my radar says it clearly. Guy’s straight. There’s no fun for me going there.” He shook his head while crossing his arms over his broad chest.

 

I wanted to argue more, but before I could open my mouth again, I was holding menus and was pushed up to the middle of the stairs. The black-haired sex-on-the-legs noticed me coming their way in an instant. I did my best not to look at him directly, but I could feel his gaze on me the entire time I was climbing the stairs. I had never needed to concentrate that much on walking.

 

“Hello.” I activated my professional tone and handed them menus. “What can I get you?”

 

The two nervous men immediately turned their eyes on the black-haired. “Mr. Lan?” one of them muttered.

 

My eyes reluctantly shifted from the other two “safe” businessmen to my black-haired trouble just to find him looking straight at me. “Espresso,” his answer came.

 

His deep and smooth voice almost cost me my balance. I shifted at my feet and focused on writing down the order I was highly unlikely to forget… ever.

 

“We’ll have two americanos,” one of the restless businessmen added.

 

smile that I was unable to give to Mr. Lan… or whatever my trouble’s name was. I excused myself and dashed downstairs just so I could breathe again. I didn’t know why this guy

 

only Marco’s reflexes saved

 

asked,

 

him a wry smile. “I

 

and he was checking you out.

 

 your panties wet. That’s

 

waved me off with

 

efficiently blocking my way to his table. The tone of his voice seemed harsh and cold, completely different from the smooth velvet I heard when he

 

voice hardly reached his ears. I cleared my throat and repeated. “Excuse me, could you let

 

past him with a tray. I clenched my teeth, trying to navigate my way while carrying coffee when suddenly he pushed me

 

I cursed, making an

 

became unbalanced, and I could see the hot fluid bouncing inside the coffee cups. I found myself inches away from catastrophe! My eyes swiftly roamed the area, and thankfully, there was no one upstairs aside from the three businessmen. As my last

 

more than a few hot drops landed on my forearm. Yet, I took a deep breath and slowly got myself up from the floor. As I turned around, I found the three businessmen observing me in silence. I could ignore the two sitting by the table, but what pissed me off was the indifferent attitude Mr. Lan showed me. He was at least partially responsible

 

blood in my veins boiled. I was three seconds from

 

“Cora?!”

 

done anything to help, but at least she might have saved me from making this situation even worse. I entered my semi-polite mode by gluing a mask

 

“I will clean

 

coffee drops on his suit jacket. Shit. His eyes followed mine to those tiny stains. His lips

 

the dry cleaning, Sir!” I

 

bother. This piece needs a special treatment, the one you cannot afford.” The mockery perfectly

 

pressure, instinctively preparing me for an attack. As my muscles tensed, I used every ounce of strength I had to prevent myself from slapping him or throwing multiple objects in his direction. Yes, I had my body under control. Too bad it didn’t work the same way for my

 

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