Married to a Stranger

Chapter One: The Refusals

I frowned for the fiftieth time tonight as I brought my hand to my forehead rubbing it in frustration. How did I get stuck in a conversation with a computer geek?

"...and that was such an enlightening experience, I mean I was just nine-years old and I managed to unscrew and then screw back a computer." Well, he can screw all the computers in the world for all I care. He stopped to sip his tea. Yes, he ordered tea. I tried hard to concentrate solely on the dumplings in front of my eyes but his presence alone bothered the living crap out of me.

It has been fifty-two minutes to be exact and he has not once stopped talking about how he was an exceptionally bright child - or was it gifted? How he was always a genius when it came to computers, well, here's a funny thing about me: I don't really care.

Marco Grayson, was the owner of Grayson Global, a worldwide IT company and other complicated crap that I didn't bother paying attention to. It is safe to say that he is a rich, VERY rich. It is also safe to say he's not my type, not even close. And he also happened to be the man I was sitting across to in this fancy restaurant.

"...Isabella are you listening?" Marco asked, fixing his huge glasses on the bridge of his cute little nose. Okay, so maybe he was slightly good looking but him calling me Isabella was a complete turn off.

'Bella,' I corrected him for the twenty sixth time, yes I was counting. He smiled.

"Oh yes, of course. You were saying something related to computers?" I bluffed, of course I wasn't listening to him, how could one manage a conversation with this man? He was insanely boring; and dead. I mean, sure he was smart, hell this guy was a computer Encyclopedia, if there as such a thing, could even stand next to Steve Jobs but I didn't see myself potentially falling in love with this guy.

It was true, I was desperately in need of a husband, but I'd promised myself I wouldn't just marry away to a person with whom I wasn't compatible with. Sure, I had a deadline around the corner but I'd rather lose all my money than marry a retard like him. A retard with a cute nose.

"Yes, so when I was in university..." He started once again and I let out a huge sigh. Please get me out of here lord and I promise to not eat marshmallows ever again; you know how much I love marshmallows, don't you?

I smiled apologetically at him which made him stop mid-sentence. "What is it, love?" Oh lord; he said love in his British accent. No, Bella. Be strong, be strong!

I didn't know where to begin this maybe I could start like:

Yo Marco Polo, I can't live my life with a lifeless, mad, computer geek, forgive me?

Nah, probably not. We wouldn't want him to start crying now, would we?

"Marco..." I tried to start but failed miserably. "Marco, I don't think... I don't think this will work out. I mean we're just two very different people." I finished biting my lip. I didn't want to hurt him or anything but I was definitely not going to marry him out of the goodness of my heart. I tried to read his face; he didn't look hurt at all. He looked as if he was disappointed. As if I was a business deal he just lost. Well, I certainly did not expect that.

He was formally dressed in a grey suit and was getting up when I finished. "Very well, then. It was nice making your acquaintance, Miss Hastings." I just nodded, not knowing what to say.

He exited the restaurant after paying for our meal. Jaw dropped, I stared after him. I'd been hooked up with many guys by my uncle in the past year; this by far was the weirdest blind date I've ever been on. The guys my uncle - James Hastings - picked out for me weren't exactly the 'one'. They were all handsome, rich of course but they weren't nice and easy to talk to or in short 'husband material'.