Arranged to Him

You said to flirt...

"Just follow my lead. He has a particular affinity for Asian girls, and you're close enough. The younger, the better, so do a bit of flirting. It will help smooth things over." James asked me quietly as we stepped into the restaurant.

Lunch was at a classy new restaurant called La Padilla. I sat across from Martin next to James, reviewing the menu as if I knew what literally anything was. Luckily, I didn't have to decide, as James ordered for me with a confident tone.

"You're beautiful. How did you get such a young and beautiful bride?" Martin asked, eyeing me over his wine. I gulped, having hoped they were going to talk more about contracts.

"I have a boatload of cash. Do you really doubt my contacts?" James asked with a charming chuckle, wrapping his arm lightly around me. I felt like a trophy on display.

"She looks young, how old?" Martin asked curiously while lighting up a cigar, the only person in the restaurant to do so. Apparently, the rules didn't apply to people like him.

"Twenty-three legally. I do think they forged her birthday, though. She still looks far younger than that, doesn't she?" James said with a positive tone as if this was a good thing.

"I think you're right. Maybe seventeen?" Martin asked, this time looking at me for confirmation. I smiled, pushing down the disgust at their conversation.

"Sixteen, actually," I said quietly in what I hoped was a shy and innocent way. His eyes lit up with excitement, and he shifted in his chair. James looked at me, shocked, before he covered his expression and drank some of the aged whisky they had brought out.

I had never seen him drink enough to get tipsy, but it seemed like every question Martin asked made him drink even more. I lost count of the drinks he downed in a quick fashion.

"How is life in Turkey?" Martin asked with a smile.

"Oh...you know how it is. Very simple. I can't complain!" I said, playing up my innocence.

"Did you have many boyfriends there?" He asked, digging more, his fascination obvious as he rubbed his greying beard absently.

"No. It's strictly forbidden." I said with a sweet smile. James flagged the waiter for another whisky, and I heard him mumble something to himself that sounded like 'fucking idiotic Joseph.' I ignored him, instead playing footsie with Martin under the table, my foot gently going up his trouser legs. He glanced at James, but when he didn't notice, Martin leaned in a bit, encouraging the flirting.

"I think I would like to see you again, my sweet Anaya." Martin said eagerly, then more thoughtfully, "I have a place in the Hamptons. It's private and super secluded. Do you want to join me maybe at the end of this month?" He asked hopefully.

"And you, of course, James." He added, remembering James's existence. James perked up at this and nodded in agreement.

"I will have Susan set up a time. Just send her over the location. This has been an enthralling conversation, but I actually have to use the bathroom." James said, not able to get away from us fast enough.

I didn't have a chance to react. The very first moment James was out of eyesight, Martin jumped at me, kissing me feverishly and shoving his hands up my shirt violently.

I wanted to scream and fight him, but James had asked me to go along with his little ruse, so I thought maybe this was what he meant? He was old, and his hands were cold and wrinkly, making me sick with disgust.

A few camera shutters going off shocked him, and he finally got off me, letting me breathe. I looked around to see the paparazzi, who had been waiting outside the windows for that very scandalous thing to happen. What was worse was James had only taken a moment in the bathroom, and he was standing about ten feet behind Martin, frozen in shock and horror at what he saw.

Anger flashed in his eyes, and I could see his jaw clench and his fists ball up. I thought he would grab something and throw it at my face, but he shook out his anger, and his face was blank as he walked up.

"Oh, James, there you are!" Martin said nervously, not telling him what had happened despite the fact that it would be headline news tomorrow.

"Yes, here I am! I think it's time for us to go now, Anaya. I have an evening meeting set up, and I can't miss it." He said lightly, holding his hand out to me like a gentleman.

"Thanks," I said quietly.

I didn't say anything the entire drive home. I let the car fill with silence, and even as we walked into the apartment, I didn't know what to say. I wondered if I should say anything at all?

James didn't have the same issue and grabbed me by my wrists, forcing me harshly into the wall, his face contorted with anger I had never seen a human have before.

"What the fuck is wrong with you, Anaya? You were supposed to flirt with him, not fucking kiss him, knowing the whole world is watching our every move!" He yelled, his grip on my wrists painfully tight. I felt the air leave my chest, shocked at his rapid change.

"I thought...you said follow my lead, and you were practically offering me to him on a platter, James," I said, confused.

"It's bad enough you have to fuck my best friend, but to try to bed my business partner that is nearly twenty years your senior? Have you no shame?" He sneered at me, his eyes flashing dangerously as his voice lowered to an even more dangerous tone.

"I didn't ask him to kiss me. He forced himself on me. I am not attracted to him at all." I said, tears falling both from fear and hurt that he thought so low of me.

"Oh, don't cry. That's how this always works. You sleep around, then cry when you're caught because you don't want to be held accountable. Tears don't work on me." I tried to push him off me, and finally, he let me go, releasing his grip on me.

"Don't ask me for help again," I told him, hatefully wiping away my tears and leaving him standing there in his anger, slamming the door and locking it for good measure.

He was an idiot, and my life would be better off if I never met him. What was the whole lunch about anyway? My thoughts swirled around him and were as dark as his mood. After a while, I heard him knock but ignored it and instead took a burning hot bath, scrubbing every inch of my body feeling dirty after Martin touched me.

Men were such idiots. How could James really think I was into some creepy old guy. He asked me to play along, and I did, then he got mad that I did too good of a job? Why wasn't he mad at Martin also, anyway? He forced himself on me. I didn't initiate the kiss at all.

What had started off as a somewhat happy marriage had changed into a prison sentence with someone who seemed to resent my existence yet had willingly married me without duress. I could at least say if I was miserable, it was because I was quite literally forced to marry him.

I didn't go into the marriage expecting rainbows and sunshine, but perhaps far less darkness.

I was sure if I found out more about him, I could do one of two things with the information: I could either use it to gain more knowledge about him and perhaps argue less, or I could use it to destroy his precious reputation before I left. Either option was suitable for me. I knew one thing for sure was that I wasn't going to stay in an unhappy marriage.