Hell Of A Marriage {18+}

Chapter twenty seven - When it comes to race

After dressing up for work in a three-piece brown suit, I make my way downstairs to grab breakfast before leaving for work. As I walk down the stair, unlike usual, I see Vary dressed in a red skirt and a black three-piece suit with her full curly hair on full display, sitting on the dining table and sipping her cup of creamed coffee delicately.

I would have explained in detail how impeccably breathtaking she is if I didn’t see that she was as dressed for work just as I am.

She seems to sense my presence and turns her attention to me. “Good morning, Keenan,” she greets, and a wide grin, which almost looks like a mocking gesture, plasters on her face.

“Morning?” I reply still suspicious about this entire morning dressing thing, “Are you going somewhere?”

She nods her head affirmatively. “I’m going to work.”

Now I feel like she’s trying to mock me.

I walk to the table and take my seat next to her position and pour myself a cup of creamed tea, hot and ready for me on the table. “Work?” I pick up a sliced bread from the plate on the table and take a bite of it before sipping my tea.

“Yes, you look surprised.” She remarks with a smug look.

“No, well maybe a little.” I admit to her great satisfaction, “so, where do you work.” I ask, bringing the cup to my mouth.

“At the five-star hotel,” she abruptly replies, almost as though she expected my response.

I almost choke on my tea, “Five-star hotel!”

She nods and grins wider, “it would shock you what privileges you can manipulate when your last name is Hilton.” She winks at me.

As my gasping mouth closes, I ask, “What’s your position then?”

“Senior consultant.” She says with mild satisfaction and I have to say it’s a well-suitable position.

Although the Five stars have always been a rival hotel competing in excellence and customer services all over the countries we’ve both been in, I have no hard feeling towards Vary working with them.

What do you know? I must say I’m impressed by the change and confidence she seems to possess.

Did this happen over the cause of last week or has it always been there and he didn’t take notice?

“Well, congratulations, Mrs Hilton,” I say, impressed and I drink my tea gingerly and I stare at her.

Her eyes flicker after I called her Mrs Hilton, but she doesn’t seem to be moved that much by it.

“Thank you, Mr Hilton,” she replies and tips her cup towards me and sips in more. “So when is the date?”

“You’re welcome,” I answer before adding, “and it’s today at six-thirty.”

“Good thing it’s today.” She quickly says, with relief all over her face.

Am I missing something?

My brow rises and a frown settles on my face. “Why?” I ask.

“I didn’t want them conflicting, that’s all.” She instantly answers, dropping her mug once it’s empty. And she clears her throat, “cause I’ve got a date with Alfred Enoch tomorrow.” She gets up and grabs her long black woollen jacket from the chair.

“Is that supposed to make me feel better?” I demand, feeling anger and jealousy already ripping through me over the thought of her with another man.

“What do you mean?” She asks in confusion as she shrugs on the jacket.

“Tu sai cosa significa (You know what it means).” I ground out, a scowl growing on my face. “Telling me you are going on a date. Who is this Alfred Enoch, anyway?” I ask, although I already resent the answer she’s about to say.