Will You Marry My Groom?

34

~ HAZEL ~

"Yes, Mrs. Anderson." I smiled at her as Sherri handed over a mug of coffee to her as she had requested.

"I was wondering why you weren't at work, and why you weren't answering your phone calls. I'd have come earlier, but it was so hard for me to find your home address." She said with a smile she never displayed to me before my marriage, not stopping herself from staring around the house.

"Really? I thought I already submitted it. I'm so sorry for not calling to let you know after waking up." I apologized sheepishly.

"Oh, it's nothing." She waved a hand over her face with a grin, taking a sip from the coffee. "Your house is really beautiful."

"Thank you." I stared at Tristan who was staggering down the stairs in his shorts and a large robe that didn't do anything in hiding his bare chest. He looked tired, which was totally understandable, judging from how he had been working his ass off lately, still trying to cover up for the time he had missed. Being a Billionaire and keeping up with it was definitely not an easy task.

"So...how about the new bakery plans? You said you were going to assist me. You know, the business isn't progressing that well these days." She cleared her throat, leaning forward in her seat.

"Yes, I know that. I'm sorry for always missing so many days." I returned my gaze to her, glancing at Tristan at short intervals.

"Nah, it's fine." She burst into laughter, finally catching Tristan's attention to us. "It's nothing a sum of money can't do, right?"

I quirked an eyebrow at her, not liking where this was heading to.

"Hey, ladies." Tristan said, walking up to me with the happiest expression on, ignoring that his black hair was so disheveled, and he wasn't dressed like the to-die-for magazine Tristan.

"Mr. Hendrix!" Mrs. Anderson exclaimed, rising to her feet to extend her hand to Tristan.

Tristan stared at her suspiciously, then at me. "Who's she?"

"Mrs. Anderson, my boss from the bakery."

"The bakery? So you still work there?" he didn't look pleased to hear that, but I might've probably appreciated it if he had expressed his discomfort after she left.

"Yes, Tristan." I said through gritted teeth, trying to pass information to him with my glare.

He only chuckled, accepting her hand for a shake. "It's nice to meet you."

"Yes! Nice to meet you too." Her excessive grinning was starting to piss me off for some reason. "I was just discussing with your wife about-"

"Hazel," Tristan cut her off and let go of her, plopping himself on the spot on the couch beside me, placing his arm over my shoulder, "when you're done with your meeting, we need to speak immediately, okay?"

"Okay."

He smiled then said into my ear "you're so beautiful, no matter what your facial expression is."

"Tristan, get out."

He burst into laughter, then rose to his feet and took his leave.

Mrs. Anderson and I continued the so-called meeting. She tried to talk about money from Tristan multiple times, but I cut that topic off without seeming rude.

After a while, we finally came to the conclusion of adding my ideas to improve the bakery by adding my new recipes and also multiple forms of simple advertisement; I was certain it was going to work out, but she didn't seem pleased with me at all.