4 Will You Marry Me?

The car proceeded as Sunshine Street was in the same direction they were headed. Desmond noticed the subtle relief that washed over her. She now leaned into the seat rather than the upright posture she had taken previously.

She was staring blankly slightly towards her left, but he could tell she was avoiding eye contact with him by the subtle way her eyes flickered. Desmond didn't stop staring, though. He enjoyed her nervousness.

"You haven't asked me how I intend to make you rich."

Her eyes flickered towards him at the sound of his voice but quickly flickered away at his grin. "I'm not interested," she said.

"Will you marry me?" Desmond proposed.

Sam's head turned to look at him. She stared at his serious expression with wide eyes that wordlessly said, 'How could he want to marry her? We just met.'

"Haha no, dear. Not an actual marriage. Look, I need you to pretend to be my wife for just a year," he added.

He corrected her after enjoying her reaction. Sam's surprise still didn't falter.

Why was he asking her to do the job? There were far more beautiful girls out there. Did he, perhaps, like her? She thought.

"Why don't you just marry someone?" She asked.

"I haven't found anyone worth marrying just yet," he answered her with a smirk on his face.

There! She had her answer. He didn't like her.

"Why are you asking me to pretend to be your wife? I mean, there are better women than me out there at your disposal," she said.

"I've seen them all. I have my reasons," Desmond reiterated.

"Tell me one," she pushed on

"That is none of your business," he said sternly.

"Miss Denis, there is so much to achieve. You can say yes and become a Queen overnight, or say no and continue your suffering whether you agree you're suffering or not."

"I'm not suffering," she quipped with a stern face this time.

He ignored her retort. After a while, the car stopped.

"We are here."

Sam grabbed her bag, including the leftovers, and left immediately after the door opened without saying anything. Desmond wound down the glass and called, "Miss Denis!"

She turned and reluctantly came closer. He handed her a card, which she took.

"This is my number. My guards will be here tomorrow at 1 pm. Put on your best outfit. I love my women looking exotic, not humble."

"But, I'm not your woman," she said with a frown.

"No. Not yet," he agreed without further debate.

He wound up the glass and the car drove off.

What arrogance!

Sam stood there for a minute. It was almost unbelievable. The card in her hand confirmed that it was real. She looked at it. She didn't even remember his name.

Though Sam knew how to count, she didn't know how to read much. Her mom had started teaching her before she got a cleaning job at the clinic. It took so much of her mother's time. They tried night lessons, but it didn't work. She was always tired. After they moved into Fred's house, well...

She started heading home but realized no one would expect her at that time. The stranger had saved her so much time. She didn't even care about dinner anymore. She's had her fill already.

Moreover, she was going to smuggle all the spoils inside the house. She peeked into the plastic bag that still had the remaining chicken wrapped in foil and a bountiful amount of chocolate bars. A tremor of delight rippled through her. She couldn't wait to show Mickey. She took off towards Mickey's place. He lived not far away from where he worked at the gate.

* * * *

Her feet hastened as she saw the last bend. Closer, she broke into a run. As she reached the bend, a giant wall ran into her. Before she could catch herself, she was already buttocks down on the ground.

"Minnie?"

A familiar voice cried out as she was hauled off her feet by her underarms into the air. She glared at the hefty man who was studiously looking her over.

"Put me down, Mickey," she bit out.

"Just checking if you are hurt," Mickey said innocently.

"I'm fine. I'm fine," she said quickly.

"Let me down before someone sees us and thinks something unreal."

He placed her down gently. She grumpily smoothed her dress in an attempt to restore some dignity to herself. She glared at him.

"You can't be sweeping my feet off the floor like that. Are you a barbarian?"

"I was making sure you weren't hurt," Mickey explained kindly.

"Well, you shouldn't run on the street, Mickey. For Christ's sake, Mick, you could easily weigh four hundred pounds! It felt like I had run into a truck!"

"That was because you were running yourself." He chuckled.

Sam gave him a sulky glare. Mickey immediately frowned and became serious.

"I'm sorry, Sam. I promise not to sweep you off your feet like that again." He had promised last time. He was never going to stop picking her.

Being new to the neighborhood years ago, Sam had lost her way while coming back from the grocery store one day. She had encountered Mickey, who, as his name hinted, was a hulk of a man.

She had been scared because of his size, but though Mickey didn't have much for brains, he made it up with heart. He had seen her at her doorstep that day. Since then, she would run into Mickey while running errands.

Every Friday, Mickey was a gardener in one of the houses in the neighborhood, so he had time to lay siege on her every Friday. Each time, he'd hide behind a bush and surprise her when she came passing, grab her by the shoulder and give her a good shake.

Sam would always laugh. Things were different now. Not many twenty-two-year-olds enjoy being snatched off the ground and shaken in the air like a toddler.

Mickey's surprise appearances have also been reduced over the years. He had taken another job that demanded most of his time, but once in a while, they would run into each other on the street. Mickey would yell her name, lift her up, and spin her about before she could resist.

Mickey looked at her warmly.

"Oh, Minnie! I've missed you so much!"

Sam's frustration was quickly forgotten as she smiled up at him.

"I missed you too, Mickey." She threw her arms around his midsection. He returned her hug. When they separated, he looked at her warmly.

"You look more beautiful every time I see you," he said.

"You don't look bad either," Sam responded.

Mickey was the only one who called her beautiful. Except you could count the stranger who had told her she wasn't attractive in the end.

Speaking of contradicting oneself…

"I was coming to see you, Mickey."

He looked at her quizzically. He noticed the bag in her hand and reached for it curiously.

"Is that for me?" Sam swatted his hand away.

"Let's sit somewhere. I have so much to tell you," she added.

Sam led the way, and Mickey followed eagerly. The street was lined with trees. They found the perfect shade. A flowering tree that had a bench under it. The pair sat.

Sam handed him the bag. Mickey took it eagerly. Sam suddenly remembered the chocolate bars and snatched the bag back, took out the chicken and handed it to him. He unwrapped it and gaped at the chicken.

"It's a chicken!" He squeaked. "It is half eaten!" He added with a frown.

"I ate it. I thought it would be nice to share, that's why I saved this part for you," she responded.

"Thank you, Minnie. I haven't had a chicken for as long as forever," he mumbled as he began munching on it. "Where did you get it from?"

"A stranger bought it for me," he gaped, and Sam giggled.

"Don't worry yourself. It's not poisoned," he resumed eating.

"You shouldn't collect things from strangers, Minnie."

Sam thought about that. If the stranger had had ill intent and had poisoned her, she would have been helpless. But she was hungry, which was true.

"Tell me what happened," Mickey prompted.

After a while, she was done narrating all that had happened between her and Desmond to him.

"Hmmm… I don't know what to think of that," he said, puzzled.

"It'll be nice to become rich overnight, but that guy could be dangerous," he reasoned.

He rubbed his brow. He hated brainstorming. It made his head ache, but he had to this time around.

"Do you think I should accept it?" Sam asked curiosly.

"No!" He said firmly. "That guy is dangerous, Sam."

"How are you sure?" She inquired.

"I'm not," he lost his firmness. "I'm not sure about anything about this."

"I mean, he could be harmless and we will miss out on a big opportunity," Sam reasoned.

"That's true," he said thoughtfully.

They stayed quiet for a moment. Sam suddenly had a plan.

That evening, Sam jogged back home in anticipation of the next day. It was already getting dark and many homes had had dinner. She was still early, but Fred would think she was just fast. Sam was glad she had left her snacks with Mickey. Not without strict warnings, though, which she doubted would be enough.

Sam opened the door gingerly and entered. Fred was watching TV in the living room. She walked up to him and handed him the package. He looked slightly surprised to see her.

"You are back early," he said.

"If I knew you were such a fast trekker earlier, it would have saved me a lot of money. You still missed dinner, though. You can go to bed now."

Sam couldn't help glaring at him. Fred's eyes were clouded with menace on noticing that. She quickly looked away. She couldn't afford to get trashed that night. She was in good mode.

"Do you have something to say?" He growled.

"No." She responded meekly.

"Then get out," he added.

She hurriedly headed for the kitchen, then into the store that served as her room. She found her way to her bed with the help of the light from the kitchen and slept off in no time. The trekking earlier had drained her. That night, for the first time in all her nights in the store, she slept till morning.

* * * *

Sam was up early in the morning and started her chores with vigor. In no time, she'd cleaned half of the house, which were the rooms unoccupied at the moment, and started breakfast.

The morning passed smoothly as Fred and Diane just had breakfast and left. Fred had even given her a few slices of bread.

Immediately after she heard the car leave the compound, she hurriedly rinsed her sudsy hands and ran to her room. She grabbed her towel and clothes and went to the bathroom to take a head shower.

After drying off her hair the best she could, she went into Diane's room to look. It looked horrible! Her hair looked matted from the ruffling of the towel. She sat at the vanity and pulled out a drawer.

There were a lot of things in there that she couldn't identify. She took out a hair brush and shut the drawer, then began to comb. It was difficult as the brush kept getting stuck in the tangles.

When she felt she had tried enough, she dropped the comb and started dressing up in her pale dress. She didn't care how lame she would look in it. It was the best she had. She studied her reflection in the mirror. Did it look that bad yesterday? She'd rather not go on the date than go in that dress.

She was just realizing, looking at the mirror, how badly the dress had faded. So, this was the image that the stranger saw. Her cheeks reddened in shame. No wonder he thought she looked desperate.

"What am I going to do?" She cried out in panic.

Suddenly, an idea struck her. She hurried to Diane's wardrobe and threw the doors open.

"Wow!"

She gushed at the colourfulness of the clothes in there. She wasn't stealing. She was just going to borrow her sister's dress.

Sam got into trying every cloth until the bed was filled with them. Yet, she couldn't find her size. Diane was bigger than she was. Sam sighed at the heap she had created. She had to do something or she would have to cancel the date.

A red color in the heap caught her attention. She pulled it out. It was a beautiful dress. It had spaghetti sleeves. The front barely made it past one's thighs, but the back flowed down beyond the ankles. It's red was the kind that screamed 'look at me!'

Sam had seen it earlier and had intentionally put it aside because Diane had only bought it last week. It was way below her size, but she must have thought it looked good enough to just hang it in the wardrobe, because that was exactly what she was doing.

Sam didn't dare think about wearing it, but now she was considering that option.

"She'll never find out."

Sam waved dismissively and began to wear the dress. When she looked at the mirror, it seemed she had suddenly changed into another woman—a pretty woman.

The dress clung snugly around her hips and bosom. It was almost too beautiful to be decent. Sam turned around to inspect the back.

It had a deep U-shaped cut that exaggerated her tiny waist but exposed the scars on her back. Sam picked up a foundation Diane had left on the vanity and began to smear around the problem areas. When she decided she looked normal enough.

She grabbed a purse and hurried downstairs without putting the rest of the clothes in order. The time was almost one.

"Shit!"

She hastened up and left the house. Her place was a short walk away from where the car had dropped her off yesterday. Where the hell was Mickey? She looked around as she hurried. If he wasn't going to show up, Sam wasn't going to get in a car with that stranger again.

Before she was through lamenting that, Mickey emerged from behind a tree. He was looking at her in a confused way.

"Minnie? Is that you?" He asked doubtfully. Sam hurried to him.

"It's me, of course."

"You look more beautiful each time I see you! I almost didn't recognize you! Where did you get that dress from?" He gushed.

"We don't have time, Mickey. I'll tell you later. Come on!"

She tugged at his sleeve as she led him to where they were to meet the car.