The Quinton Boy

I watched daddy twiddle his thumbs nervously while I lounged casually on the plush sofa with a glass of white champagne dangling from between my index and middle fingers. His nerves and uneasiness should have put me off but I still felt calm, relaxed and collected. My patience was beginning to wear thin and I lightly huffed my annoyance. "Daddy, would you please get this over and done with and spit it out because I hear freshly baked chocolate brownies calling my name from the kitchens."

Daddy took a deep breath and cleared his throat. "Sweetheart, I know this is going to be hard to take in and accept but you must for the well-being our business. I have had no other choice but to arrange your marriage with Christopher Quinton's son." He finally revealed in one breath. He looked at me defeated and flinched when I merely took a breath of air.

I blinked and there were a few seconds of silence. I casually shrugged. "Okay." Was my one worded response.