7. The Invitation

Theodore

Damn! This coffee. Why the fuck does she make it so good? It was so hard for me to contain my expression in front of her. Of course, I don't want to give her the idea that I like it. I can never give her satisfaction. 

I heard a knock on the door and Anders came into my office. 

“Why is Martha slacking off?” I fired immediately and he looked confused at me. Eyeing the coffee in my hand and then my face, he finally decided to say something. 

“Did she not make the coffee well?” He asked, scratching his head. 

“No. Actually she didn't make it at all. She is not present here in the first place.” 

“Oh,” oh? That's all he has to say? 

“Why wasn't I informed?” 

“I'm not sure, Mr. Maxwell. I didn't know either. How did you get to know anyways? Who made you the coffee then?” 

“Alina,” I gritted out. 

“Oh. But I thought she made good coffee. The last time you had it, you liked it, didn't you?” That's the fucking problem! I don't want to like it. And if I have it more, then I'll grow addicted to this. “Did she not make it good this time?” 

“Just-” I didn't know what to say. I actually wanted him to shut up. Because she made it perfect. That's why I hated it. God, I'm a twisted man. “Why did you come here?” I changed the topic. 

“Mr and Mrs. Summers are throwing a formal party for their wedding anniversary. They sent an invitation. I thought I'd inform you since this could be a good opportunity to talk to them about the business collaboration you wanted to do with them.” I smirked, knowing this was the perfect opportunity for me to strengthen my relations with him. If he says yes to my proposal, it would give me a boost and definitely bring in more money. Nathan Summers, their son, was actually my competitor. But let's just say I have my ways of charming people and had his parents immediately on my side. This helped me become not only a shareholder of his company, but I also love the agitation and frustration on his face when his parents treat me more like a son than him. It's absolutely worth it. Plus, it's not my fault he is infamous for his high ranking on the scandal list. It's like he's way too immature to handle business. Mr and Mrs. Summers always compares his skills to me, obviously degrading him, and boy does it bring more satisfaction to me! 

“Very well then,” this was the perfect time to throw my cards and gain even a better percentage of his company. Just some sweet words to his father and charming smiles to his mother, and I've got it. 

“But-” Anders looked down at his hands suddenly, not meeting my eyes. 

“But what?” 

“The news traveled fast that you got married. And they have especially invited you and your wife, to, of course, meet her. Mr. Summers sent in his word personally that Mrs. Summers is excited about meeting the woman you have married.” Fucking hell. Just why can't I have things done my way? I groaned, rolling my eyes at their special request. All of a sudden, a sour expression marked my face. I knew it wouldn't please them if I didn't take Alina with me. And that is far from what I want. 

“Leave,” I ordered Anders, and he obliged immediately. I rubbed my forehead with my fingers in hopes of getting rid of the sudden headache that had struck me. Just when will I get rid of this girl? 

************

I was about to leave early from work the next day since we had to attend the party, which Alina still had no clue about. I had told Anders to pick out a decent formal dress for her to wear, and I immediately regretted my decision to give him the task. 

“You really do have a terrible choice. No wonder your wife hates your taste,” I scoffed, looking at the tablet screen that he handed to me. I swiped left, and kept swiping because none of the dresses he had shortlisted were up to the mark. We were going to attend a formal party, not a fucking club, for heaven's sake. 

“Oh goodness. Remind me to never tell you to do this again.” Anders was double in age compared to me. He had seen my worst and my best days. He was the only one I was ever comfortable with and trusted blindly, especially since he was appointed for my care when I was twelve. Of course, dad was always busy with his business, and with mom never in the picture, he tried his best to make time for me, but couldn't. That's when Anders came in. He used to address me as ‘little master’ back then, but over the years I grew close. And no matter how pissed I am, he knows exactly what to do at what time. He takes all my mood swings and anger issues, and I'm thankful that he has been nothing but the best butler I could ever ask for. We had a bond, a weird one where I could scold him and he could scold me, but none took offense to it.  

“Well, how the hell am I supposed to know what women are supposed to wear? There is a reason my wife never liked the dress presents that I gave her. I thought you already knew so don't call me out for that.” He sassed, folding his arms. 

“Don't worry, I got my lesson. Take me to the mall now,” because my so-called wife still needs to look decent and I can't trust her choice. She should look good with me, like she is actually my wife. 

After scrutinizing a number of dresses, my eyes finally fell on the one that I knew would look good. It was simple, yet elegant. A deep, low neck black spaghetti strap dress with a slit running down from the thighs area. 

“Have a good look at this one, and get it packed. The next time I tell you to get a dress for her, make sure it matches this standard,” I told Anders. 

“Of course, Mr. Maxwell,” he scoffed, rolling his eyes, and I glared at him. We wasted no time in getting home because I had no idea about how long Alina would take to get ready.