Untie the Knot

Chapter 4

I open my eyes and stare at the ceiling.

Golden sunlight floods my bedroom. My phone vibrates on the nightstand beside me. I haven't slept enough and I'm not ready to face the day.

Regret.

That's the word I've been searching for. Now that I've found it, I can't get rid of it, no matter how hard I try.

Stupidity comes in a close second.

There are many names I'd like to call myself, idiot possibly being the nicest of them all. I pull the covers over my head in a feeble attempt to shut out reality.

My phone buzzes reproachfully with another call I choose to ignore.

If this is the guy from last night, then he's pretty insistent. What was his name? Haze Delasomething, insanely handsome and a voice to die for. It all comes crashing down on me now. The buttercups, the mojitos, and then his offer - no, my offer.

What the hell was I thinking? Why couldn't I just accept his gift and be happy with it?

I jerk away the covers and swing my legs over the edge of the bed. There's no way I'd be able to catch more sleep now, so I might as well get up.

I glare at my nightstand, where my phone's screen flickers like a sick lightbulb. I won't be able to ignore the buzzing and pinging for much longer.

Burying my head in my hands, I hope for my hangover to disappear but I know that's not going to happen. Now that I'm sitting up, it feels even worse, like as if I had slammed my head against a rock last night.

I need to call Haze and cancel the deal. No way I'm giving one week of my life to a complete stranger. My head fires up with all possible worst-case scenarios. How do I know that he isn't some crazy psychopath who's going to lock me in the basement of his fancy country house for six months? I know next to nothing about him.

But then I remind myself once more that he wasn't the one who had made the offer. I've only myself to blame for this dilemma. He just wanted to give me a gift while I insisted on offering something in return. So, it's my fault and mine alone.

Bzzzzzzzz

"Okay, okay." I fumble for my phone and hold it up in front of me, narrowing my eyes to focus on the too-bright display.

"Thirty-seven notifications? Are you kidding me?" I scroll through them quickly while I shuffle towards the bathroom. There are four text messages from my mum.

Just reminding you that Dick and I will be island hopping in Greece for two weeks. If you need anything while we're on our honeymoon, just ring Auntie Bernadette. I know you don't like her but she's a doll. Love you sweetie-pie, Mum

"Yeah, I don't think so," I mutter to myself. I'd rather cut off my tongue than ask her for anything. I swear Auntie Bernadette is somehow related to Medusa. She has the scariest hairdos ever. I don't even know why Mum calls her Auntie. To the best of my knowledge, we aren't related, but like with so many things, my mum was never clear about it.

I huff and scroll to the second message.

I saw that you had a nice time with Mr Delacroix last night. He's such a charming young man with good manners too. Might not be as wealthy as Dave but definitely worth keeping an eye on.

Come on, really? Even at her own wedding, she has her matchmaking eyes set on me? Well, at least I know his last name now. I raise my eyebrows at her next message.

Good luck with him and try not to mess it up. You're not getting any younger, hon.

Ugh. What the hell, Mum? There's one last message, sent an hour later.