Chapter 4
The next morning, I was jolted awake by a rapid knock at the door.
My hair was a mess, and I was still half-asleep as I stumbled to open it.
Standing there was a woman in a tailored designer suit and flawless makeup. It was Evelyn.
Behind her were two maids, each carrying armfuls of clothes and jewelry that looked expensive.
"Evelyn?" I blurted out, stunned.
"Don't call me that intimately," Evelyn said, not even bothering to look at me. She marched in like a queen surveying her territory.
She gave my messy bed a look of utter disgust, then eyed my Pikachu pajamas, her frown so sharp it could've killed a fly.
"Put these on," Evelyn said, nodding at the clothes and jewelry the maids were holding. "Be downstairs in thirty minutes. You're coming with me to afternoon tea."
Before I could even react, she had already turned and left, leaving me with nothing but her proud silhouette.
I glanced at the pile of clothes, then at my disheveled reflection in the mirror.
Guess I was officially living the rich daughter-in-law life now.
Half an hour later, I appeared in the living room downstairs, dressed in a white Chanel dress, in over two-inch heels, and with flawless light makeup.
Simon was there, too, sitting on the couch, watching financial news.
He glanced up at me, and for a moment, I saw a flash of surprise in his eyes, but it quickly faded back to his usual calm expression.
Evelyn nodded in approval and said, "Now you finally look like a proper Mrs. Carter."
I felt so awkward in all this.
This dress was so tight and short that I could hardly breathe.
And those heels? Whoever invented them must have hated women.
I'd much rather be in my dinosaur pajamas, playing chef in the kitchen.
The afternoon tea was held at an exclusive club, and all the guests were wealthy ladies around Evelyn's age.
They were dressed to the nines, dripping in diamonds, and all they talked about was whose husband had bought a yacht or whose son had acquired a company.
I sat next to Evelyn, feeling like a total outsider.
The way they looked at me was full of curiosity and barely concealed disdain.
"Mrs. Carter, is this your new daughter-in-law? The one from yesterday's wedding?" The first to speak was a lady flashing a massive diamond ring, her voice laced with sarcasm.
"Yes," Evelyn replied, her smile as fake as ever. "You know how young people are, always into their little romantic dramas."
"Romantic? Looks more like a circus to me," another woman snickered behind her hand. "I've watched Vivian grow up since she was a kid. Such a wonderful girl. How could things turn out like this?"
They kept tossing comments back and forth; every mention of Vivian was a subtle jab at me.
It finally dawned on me; this wasn't just some fancy afternoon tea. It was an ambush in disguise.
Evelyn had dragged me here so her clique of fake friends could interrogate me.
I kept my head down, silently picking at the macaron in front of me, trying to ignore the stares.
Ugh, way too sweet. Tasted like chemicals. Thumbs down.
Evelyn figured I was intimidated by the silence and gave me a little nudge with her elbow. She said, "Julia, don't just sit there. Go on, greet everyone."
I looked up, wiped my mouth, and put on my best innocent smile for the crowd of wealthy ladies.
"Good afternoon, ladies. I'm Julia, Simon's wife," I said.
The diamond ring lady said again, "Ms. Grant, I heard your family runs a little restaurant?"
She was clearly implying I wasn't good enough for Simon because of my background.
"Yeah," I replied, didn't try to sugarcoat it. "Our place might be small, but it's got a great reputation and tons of regulars. Unlike some restaurants that look all fancy but serve processed steak and low-quality cream."
I gave the desserts a knowing look.
Their faces darkened.
One of the ladies owned this club.
"What's that supposed to mean?" That lady said as she stood up, slapping the table.
"Oh, nothing at all," I said, batting my lashes. "Just sharing some honest feedback as a food blogger. No offense, constructive criticism can sting. If you ever want to upgrade your menu, I'd be happy to consult for free."
"You!" the lady snapped.
Evelyn's face soured.
She definitely hadn't expected me to hold my own, let alone throw it right back at them.
"That's enough," Evelyn said. "Julia, keep quiet."
I shut up like a good girl and kept eating my cake.
My job here was done.
Making these societies uncomfortable was the whole point.
On the ride back, Evelyn didn't say a single word to me.
The air in the car was colder than a blizzard.
I knew I had pissed her off big time today.
But so what?
Anyway, we would be divorced in a year. I couldn't care less about pleasing Evelyn.
When we got home, I was surprised to see Simon still there; he hadn't left for work yet.
He was lounging in the living room, and as soon as Evelyn walked in, she started ranting to him.
Evelyn said, "Simon, just look at the wife you picked. She made a complete fool of me out there today. Honestly, she's nothing but an uncultured brat."
Simon glanced up at me, giving me a calm, indifferent look.
I thought he would warn me, maybe even punish me, just like the contract said.
But instead, Simon said, "Mom, she's my wife now, and she belongs to the Carter family. I don't want to hear anyone saying she's uncultured ever again."
Evelyn was caught off guard.
I was just as shocked.
Wait, was this jerk actually defending me?
Did hell freeze over, or did the sun rise in the west?
"Are you seriously taking her side against me?" Evelyn asked. She was so furious that she was practically shaking.
"I'm just stating the facts," Simon said, getting up and coming over to me. He wrapped his arm around my shoulders like it was the most natural thing in the world. "From now on, my wife is my responsibility. You can stop worrying about her."
His hand was big and warm, and the heat went right through my dress and straight to my skin.
My whole body went stiff, and my brain just blanked out.
What the hell was going on?
Wait, this wasn't in the script.