Chapter 3
I crept away to a shady corner to wait.
When I took out my phone, there were over a dozen missed calls from Justin.
There were dozens of text messages from him too.
From the message notification previews, I could see that all of them were just angry insults and accusations.
Justin: [Jacqueline, are you out of your mind…]
Justin: [Which bastard were you talking to…]
Justin: [Get your ass back here…]
I quickly scanned through the seemingly endless notifications numbly.
Then I blocked Justin's contact on all the different means of communication.
My phone was finally quiet. I had no idea if this guy Zoeller would actually show up. I didn't even know what he looked like.
All my mom said was that he was a lawyer, and he was a very reliable chap.
If Zoeller didn't show up, I would just walk into the county clerk's office alone.
After canceling everything, I would then head home. And I would begin a new life…
About ten minutes later, I noticed a man walking toward me.
He was tall, easily over six feet. He was dressed in an impeccably tailored black suit, which made him stand out like a sore thumb against the colorful background of happy people.
He was also strikingly handsome, with sharp, chiseled features that gave him an austere, aloof look.
A pair of gold-rimmed glasses perched on his nose, and behind the lenses, his eyes were unwavering yet unfathomable.
He came to a stop in front of me and unabashedly sized me up.
And when he spoke, he sounded exactly like the voice I heard on the phone earlier. His voice was a rich, deep baritone that was strangely hypnotic.
"Ms. Jacqueline Heselton?" he asked.
I was jolted to my senses and quickly nodded my head.
"I'm Ignace Zoeller." He then extended his hand to me.
"Pleased to meet you, Mr. Zoeller," I responded and accepted his handshake.
In the barely one-second contact, I noticed that his palm was warm, but his grip was firm.
"Earlier, on the phone, you said..." Ignace did not finish as he cast a searching look over my face.
"Let's get married," I finished the sentence for him.
"Ah, yes. Get married," he echoed my words with a thoughtful look.
I met his gaze and explained at length. "Mr. Zoeller, I know this is very abrupt.
"You probably think I'm nuts. But I was thinking, perhaps we can make a deal."
Ignace didn't say anything except to continue to watch my face attentively.
Behind those glasses, his gaze was like a precision instrument that analyzed every detail about me.
I steeled myself not to look away and continued, "I need a husband, in the legal sense. I believe you have your reasons for agreeing to be set up for blind dates.
“We’ll get married, each getting what we need. After marriage, we’ll lead our own lives separately.
"Our finances stay separate, and we're only responsible for ourselves. We can sign a pre-nup agreement and lay out all the terms clearly.
"After a year, we can divorce each other. Of course, I'll pay you for your trouble."
After I finished speaking, there was silence. Only the distant sounds of celebration drifted over from nearby.
I started to get nervous. My palms were beginning to sweat.
That was the most vicious retaliation against Justin I could come up with. It was also the quickest way for me to escape.
Ignace simply watched me intently for a long time without a word.
He was silent for so long that I started to think he was going to turn around and leave.
Then, suddenly, he smiled. It was a very subtle, fleeting smile that flashed past his lips very briefly.
"Ms. Heselton, you're more interesting than I thought," Ignace said as he adjusted his glasses.
"There's no need for you to pay me. Indeed, I do need a marriage certificate just to get my family off my back. Your deal sounds fair to me," he said unhurriedly.
I felt a wave of relief wash over me. "So, you're saying...?"
"I agree to your deal," Ignace replied crisply.
"We can work together. However…" He paused, then added, "I need to add one more condition."
"Go ahead," I said, my interest piqued.
"During our marriage, I will need your cooperation to join me for some obligatory family gatherings. But these events won't be too frequent," Ignace explained.
"No problem." I accepted his new condition without hesitation. It was not an unreasonable request.
"Good." He nodded. He seemed pleased that I was so decisive.
He then glanced at the entrance of the county clerk's office before asking, "Have you brought the necessary documents?"
"Yes, I have them," I answered.
"Let's go then," he said and immediately entered the building briskly.
I followed him in a half-daze. As I stared at his upright back, I felt as if I was dreaming.
Everything felt so unreal. I was about to sign the marriage certificate with a complete stranger.
There was no love, no relationship. There was only a rational, straightforward business transaction.
We came to a stop and stood side by side in the lobby before the ceremony room.
The gleaming sign on the off-white wall hung overhead. In stark contrast to the cheery atmosphere outside, the whole place here felt somewhat solemn and dignified
Ignace turned to look at me. In the sunlight, his eyelashes seemed especially long.
"I'm going to ask you one last time before we go in," Ignace said in a grave tone. It was almost as if a lawyer were speaking to me.
"Ms. Jacqueline Heselton, are you absolutely certain you want to do this?"