“I will wed the first person who enters that door!” — the business owner vowed. But when the door opened, he was so terrified that he could not even speak.😲
“I’ll marry the first person who walks through that door!” Alex Carter declared, fumbling anxiously with a sleeve button. His whole existence screamed: the end is close, despite his best efforts to conceal his panic.
His name used to reverberate throughout the fashion industry. The future of the brand hinged on a contract that was signed today. The business might be revived with just one signature. There was a catch, though. Only “family men” with a wife or at least a fiancée were seen suitable by potential partners. He and other unmarried bachelors had no place there.
A stifling silence fell over the office. The air conditioner didn’t feel right either. Mark Thompson, his deputy and longtime friend, stood next to him, half-serenedly composed.
You’re such a dramatist, Alex. Because you don’t have a ring, do you really think the contract will fall through? Find an actress and make up a tale.
Alex, however, shook his head. His tone seemed like a judgment call:
“No. I’m getting married. The first individual to enter the door!
“You’ve lost it.” Mark gave a raspy laugh. “I hope it’s Gloria, the cleaning lady. She has been observing you for some time.
Alex simply shrugged. He had defied fate, and it didn’t hold him back.
Someone knocked.
Both of them froze. Their hearts pounded uneasily. The knock came again. Mark muttered:
“I believe your ‘wife’ has shown up.”
😱 The door opened with a squeak. Mark’s face contorted in surprise, and Alex went white with terror. What they witnessed was very unexpected.
When the door opened, there wasn’t a stunning woman wearing a high-end gown standing on the doorway. With a gloomy expression, a girl in a faded dress with a tattered rucksack slung over her shoulders tentatively walked into the room.
Her hair was in an untidy bun, her shoes were worn, and there was no makeup on her face. She seems to have sought refuge rather than coming to a fashion office.
Mark looked at Alex and could hardly contain his laughter. The latter did not move. He had anticipated a former beauty queen, a driven professional woman, or another status-seeker. Not her, though.
“Pardon me… I have an interview here. “I received the address via email,” the girl muttered.
Alex moved in closer. Her tone was forceful but delicate. Abruptly, he declared:
“I’ll hire you… but on one condition. You’ll have to temporarily play the role of my fiancée. It’s important for the success of the deal. You will get a salary and an additional reward if everything goes well.”
The girl stared at him in disbelief.
“Excuse me? Is this… a joke?”
“No. I’m serious. The conditions are simple.”
She wanted to leave. Proudly lifting her chin, she was
