Being a model's wife is hard. All morning, my hair was being pulls and yanked and until the hair dressers were satisfied with the style.
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Despite taking so long with my hair, they seemed to be in a rush. They barely gave me five minutes to decide on what I was going to wear. I decided on a pretty red swing dress with a see-through shawl covering up the sleeveless shoulders. Plain black gloves completing the outfit.
Once I was finally ready I exit my bedroom I see Damian waiting for me, wearing a black Harrington jacket with a pair of beige pleated trousers. His black hair was done up in a college contour. He looks at me, "They spent that long to do what exactly?"
"Shut it," I said rolling my eyes.
"Remember what I said last night?" he asks me.
"You said a lot of things last night," I say. "You expect me to remember it all?"
He leans closer, up to my ear. "The minute we leave this hall, we're husband and wife."
I push him away from me, "Get off," I grunt then I walk over to the end of the hallway and wait.
He walks over to me, "the show must go on."
He offers me his arm and I hesitantly take it, "the show must go on," I repeat.
He leads me downstairs to the dining room, "Is anyone in there?" I whisper before we open the door.
"My dad," he whispered back. "Don't speak to him, I'll greet him, you curtsy then take off your glove and take a butterbrezel, then we'll leave."
"Shouldn't we sit down to eat?" I ask. He groans, "Just do as I say."
He opens the doors then a butler announces our presence, "Young Master, Damian and his wife have arrived, sir!"
We walk over to the table and Damian bows, nudging my slightly so I curtsy, making use of the prep school lesson I used to attend. "Good morning, father."
Donavon Desmond grunts in response. I slip my arm out of Damian's the carefully take off my right glove and I pick up a butterbrezel carefully then quickly swipe a second one and slip it into Damian hand.
"We'll be going now father," he says bowing again then we turn around and leave again.
"What part of 'Just do as I say' did you not understand?" he asks after the door closes.
"I just thought you'd like to eat some as well," I stutter, shocked that he was scolding me. I can't even read his mind to figure out what the problem is.
I try to slip my arm back into his, then I realise he was shaking, "Dami..."
He starts eating the butterbrezel, "You're still scared of him?" I whisper.
