A Wife for Hire: The Billionaire's Contract Wife.
(The Offer)
Chapter Two
The alarm clock woke her up from sleep. Her eyes fluttered open lazily, she tried to turn it off and ended up falling to the floor.
"Ouch…" she groaned in pain trying to get back up. Her sleepiness takes flight as her eyes open instantly.
Her eyes charged to the wall clock on the wall and her features tightened alarming her. With the money at her disposal she lodged into a hotel last night, and ate dinner. She couldn't stop thinking about the job the stranger was willing to offer.
Marilyn quickly went to the bathroom showered hurriedly, put on one of her best dresses she thrifted a few months ago, a new pair of shoes she bought over a year ago, and styled her hair the best she could. She marched out of the hotel with her box safely tucked under her arm, and made it out with the only money she had to pay a train ticket to the main town.
Her hopes were high, her lips tight with a smile, and something in her gut was anticipating this encounter. She picked the card from her bag, studied the address, and headed to the location.
Her knuckles hit the gates twice.
"Who are you?" The guard opened the gate staring at her intrinsically.
"I am invited. He asked me to come." She retrieved the card from her worn out brown purse, and gave it to him.
The guard studied the card with a nod. "Follow me."
She followed behind him quietly as he led her into the mansion. Moving through corridors her eyes popped out of its socket in shock, the awesome vanity in grandiose display. The gold furniture, artifacts displayed in different sections of the mansion, the immaculate polished walls. The gigantic chandeliers range in the width around the room.
The guard directed her to a chair, and went upstairs, and came back shortly. The guard didn't speak to her again; he just left her alone in the gigantic hall. She waited patiently while her eyes roamed around the vicinity.
It felt surreal like she died, and woke up in heaven. What can someone who has everything want from a woman who has nothing?
"Good morning miss."
Aaron Buckley walked into the room making her skin jump with goosebumps spreading across it. A blonde haired, tall, handsome looking with bluest light eyes she has ever seen, and with a face to make any woman's stomach flutter with butterflies.
Her breath hitched in her throat as she took in his appearance in his dapper blue suit, black Tom Ford shoes, and expensive wrist watch. His cologne smelled of wild forest, and burning cedar wood infiltrating into her nostrils, and fucking up her senses.
"M-m-" she stuttered.
Her brain froze.
"Are you Marilyn?" He asked in his sweet accent. Walking closer to her. His eyes mirrored her appearance, her beautiful long red hair flowing down her back dangerously, her pretty green eyes, and the curve of her oval face. He stared at her smartly dressed, neat clothing, and the box on her arm made him realize how dire her situation she was. Frank Bush, his lawyer, had told him about her and assured him he'll be impressed by her seeing her in person he felt intrigued, and took a sense of calm towards her. He has been monitoring, slowly hoping for the right time and finally it came willingly knocking on his doors.
"Y-yes…" Marilyn stood straight, her posture tight.
It was him.
Aaron Buckley the richest businessman in the entire city, the Vibrant CEO of Pentagon. He was crowned the richest, and most influential business man at the Global business awards. She has seen him countless times on tabloids but never did it occur she'll be sitting in his home, and he was the client the man talked about yesterday. A sizzling cold ran down her back. Her blood froze in her veins staring up at him, her cheeks burned red.
It was not a surprise how he acquired his riches or the mansion was covered in wealth, and glamor. The Buckley's were one of the most successful, and famous families in the history of the city.
Aaron motioned her to sit as he sat on the opposite expensive couch.
"Frank told me about you." He says.
"Yes I met him yesterday in an unfortunate situation, and he helped." She replied quickly.
Aaron nods. "What can you do?"
"Cook, clean, sweep. I can do the laundry, and whatever other things. I don't have a choice." She said quickly hoping Aaron Buckley doesn't change his mind. She felt nervousness being so close to him alone.
His pure cologne messed with her senses, and worse her stomach tightened in knots, and high anticipation. She couldn't ruin this last chance either if she gets the job or sleeps on the street.
"I don't have a need for domestic staff. I'm sorry I can't employ you." He rose to his feet. "Have a nice day Miss." he turned to leave.
"Wait!"
"What do you need sir?" She added.
"It isn't something you're capable of doing, it's complicated. Don't worry about it." He turned to leave again.
She held his arm, her eyes stinging with tears."I insist…I mean I deserve to know what you want and if I can't then I'll leave." Her hands lost their grip as she slowly went back to the seat.
He went back to the couch, sat with an emotionless expression on his face.
"A wife." His voice was hard, and cold.
"A wife?" She blurts in confusion taken off guard by his strange reveal.
"Yes, a wife for hire." He confessed his gaze mounted on her entire demeanor.
She stood up to her feet. "I believe there's a mix up… I only need a job not what you're proposing…"reluctantly she picked her bags ready to leave, her shoulders collapsing weakly- her only hope dashed to the mud.
Aaron stood up from his chair, his hands lost in his perfectly ironed and expensive suit pants pockets. He purses his lips thinly staring her deep in the eye. "I know how you must be feeling. It's my decision to get a wife for hire and a contract mother for my twin daughters Paige, and Piper. It's a long story but the truth is I've been on the lookout for someone who can handle kids and is responsible enough to love them with kindness, patience and compassion. And there's nobody else better than you."
"I don't understand what you mean Mr. Aaron?" Confusion dribbled in her shaky voice.
Aaron reaches into his wallet and brings out a passport photograph. "August 15th you saw two girls sitting under a shade alone. You spent time with them, bought them ice creams, and made sure the driver arrived to get them despite how long it took before you left. Am I wrong Marilyn Edwards?"
One morning she found two kids at a nearby shade who were waiting for someone they wouldn't tell. Her heart, with empathy, had to wait back to make sure they were safe, sitting beside them, and bought them ice creams and water until the driver arrived. She didn't step an inch. She feared for their safety.
And until the children assured her the driver was sent from a parent, did she allow them to move, and it cost her a job before she could get to the interview centre it was already concluded and that happened a few years ago.
"They're your daughters?" She asked in disbelief. Her hands shook as she stared at the photographs.
"It's them it's really…" she muttered in shock.
"Yes, those little girls are my precious little daughters. Page, and Piper Buckley." He replied confidently.