Condemned to an unhappy marriage by her father Emerald Davidson finds herself in quite the shitty situation, only to find help from someone who's no better. She trades one deal for another, but is oblivious to what that other deal is exactly until i...
A/N: I'm prolly not supposed to update this quickly after the last one, but I feel like this story could use a head start. There's this lovely little star-shaped button on the top of the page (bottom, idk, depends what you're using to read this on), it glows yellow if you press on it!
When in doubt, overdress.
- Vivienne Westwood
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Emerald Davidson POV
"Honey?"
With surprise I looked up from my book. Ian was standing in the doorway, his hands busying themselves with fixing his tie while his gaze lingered on me absently.
"Yes?"
So he was talking to me again, then. And it had only taken him two days. He usually managed to at least make it to day three without my assistance, but I should have known he couldn't keep his mouth shut forever. Still, I was slightly disappointed the peaceful period of silence had ended already.
Oh well, you couldn't have it all.
"Do you know where my dark blue colbert is? I can't find it anywhere, and I need it."
I had to suppress a sigh of annoyance as I pushed myself up from my lazy chair. Ian seemed to have finally cooled down, but it was probably still not a good idea to antagonize him. The earrings had been an apology from his side, but he was still demanding complete obedience from my side as a means of saying 'sorry'. Not that I was of the opinion that I had anything to be sorry for, but I knew my place in this household.
For now.
"It's at the dry cleaners, honey." I mimicked his sweet tone of voice perfectly. "But there's another dark blue one in your closet."
Ian rolled his eyes as he checked out his hair in the mirror above the sideboard.
"No, I want this one. Have miss Ramirez pick it up."
"I can't."
I had gotten up to make way for the kitchen to get myself a cup of coffee, but a snap of Ian's fingers stopped me in my track.
"And why's that?"
"Because you fired miss Ramirez, remember? Three weeks ago?"
"So who's been doing the laundry, then?"
"I am."
This man. Sometimes I couldn't believe his fucking stupidity.
"Really?" He looked genuinely surprised for a second. "She must have been a bitch, then."
I stayed quiet at that. Actually, no, she had been a wonderful and kind old lady that did her chores with the utmost precision, but Ian had decided he wanted someone 'hotter' in a drug-induced whim. Of course, after firing her and going sober again he had forgotten all about it, which meant the household tasks were now up to me. Not that I minded. At least it gave me something to do.
