Sentenced to Marriage by MadlainQ

Chapter 2

 

Once I collected all the pieces of my lost rationality, my eyes shifted to the counter, and I slowly made my way there. As I glanced at Marco, I saw his eyes tracing the handsome and shameless guy taking his seat at the table upstairs. Monique shot him a look and chuckled.

 

“You’re drooling,” she said, smugly pointing at the corner of his lips.

 

I smiled awkwardly and hurried to put the dishes into the sink, wishing to erase the last two minutes of my memory. I had never been the type of fangirl who would easily let some handsome guy sweep her off her feet. That black-haired man in a suit was bad news, and I could feel it in my gut. After a brief inward debate, I decided that my temporal insanity was caused by a shock. My brain had become vulnerable due to exhaustion, which allowed me to be affected by the suit’s good looks. As soon as I found this explanation, I felt better. With that figured out, I knew that I wouldn’t let it happen again, and I had the best possible strategy to keep it that way: I was going to avoid the guy.

 

“So…” Monique grinned teasingly while tangling the strands of her hair around her finger. “What are you waiting for? Grab the menu and go upstairs,” she said, smirking at me.

 

I almost choked on the air I breathed. “Not a chance. I’m not going. Marco should do it,” I claimed decisively.

 

“Girl, my radar says it clearly. Guy’s straight. There’s no fun for me going there.” He shook his head while crossing his arms over his broad chest.

 

I wanted to argue more, but before I could open my mouth again, I was holding menus and was pushed up to the middle of the stairs. The black-haired sex-on-the-legs noticed me coming their way in an instant. I did my best not to look at him directly, but I could feel his gaze on me the entire time I was climbing the stairs. I had never needed to concentrate that much on walking.

 

“Hello.” I activated my professional tone and handed them menus. “What can I get you?”

 

The two nervous men immediately turned their eyes on the black-haired. “Mr. Lan?” one of them muttered.

 

My eyes reluctantly shifted from the other two “safe” businessmen to my black-haired trouble just to find him looking straight at me. “Espresso,” his answer came.

 

His deep and smooth voice almost cost me my balance. I shifted at my feet and focused on writing down the order I was highly unlikely to forget… ever.

 

“We’ll have two americanos,” one of the restless businessmen added.

 

my trouble’s name was. I excused myself and dashed downstairs just so I could

 

where only Marco’s reflexes saved me from breaking

 

OK?” he asked, gently

 

a wry smile. “I can’t

 

why,” Monique interjected, “the guy is super-hot… and he was checking you out.

 

That’s enough to make your

 

waved me off with her hand.

 

talking on the phone and efficiently blocking my way to his table. The tone of his voice seemed harsh and cold, completely different from the smooth velvet I heard when he ordered coffee. His words carried the pitch of authority and an unmistakably dangerous charge. He was facing the window, focusing on some distant point, but I could easily imagine that his eyes were pointed at the one he was talking to, and I felt sorry for him or her. He was so absorbed by the call that he didn’t notice me

 

My weak voice hardly reached his ears. I cleared my throat and repeated. “Excuse me, could

 

me a tiny space to walk past him with a tray. I clenched my teeth, trying to navigate my way while carrying coffee when suddenly he pushed me away with

 

making an

 

from catastrophe! My eyes swiftly roamed the area, and thankfully, there was no one upstairs aside

 

up from the floor. As I turned around, I found the three businessmen observing

 

veins boiled. I

 

“Cora?!”

 

arrogant for a second. She would have never done anything to help, but at least she might have saved me from making this situation even worse.

 

teeth while faking a smile. “I will clean this up and bring

 

small coffee drops on his suit jacket.

 

will pay for the dry cleaning, Sir!”

 

reach his eyes. “Don’t bother. This piece needs a special treatment,

 

every ounce of strength I had to prevent myself from slapping him or

 

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