Jensen
“Where are you taking me?” I loved the excitement in her voice and hoped that the evening would keep her smiling at me. “Some fancy penthouse party…rooftop restaurant?” Ireland continued to ask as we exited a hired car in front of an apartment building on Fifth Avenue across from the park.
“Not exactly…but something like that.” I escorted her in through an open glass door thanks to a doorman on duty and straight to three sets of brushed copper elevator doors. What I was doing was so wrong…an ambush. I should’ve told her in the car, I should’ve told her before we left the house, and I definitely should’ve told her as we traveled up the elevator. The word coward was synonymous with mine as I was afraid of Ireland running in the other direction or worse yet, refusing to go. I went with the element of surprise for the situation in question—right or very wrong.
“Good evening, Mr. Callum,” was the greeting that arrived when the copper doors slid open to reveal a grand foyer in the building’s penthouse apartment.
“This looks a whole lot like someone’s fancy home and nothing like a restaurant,” Ireland said as I guided her, at my side, forward into the space with my hand firmly planted on her lower back. “Love the floral arrangement.” I could tell by the way she was furrowing her brow looking around at the dark wood paneling and massive crystal chandelier above the flowers that she was getting nervous. The decor was a little over the top, definitely not my style—I was happy that our place was more homey and the thought of it had me wishing that we had stayed home.
“It’s my parents’ home.” That didn’t seem to help, but maybe the champagne coming our way on a tray thanks to a formally dressed server might ease her tension… and mine. Let the show begin I thought as we ventured further into the crowd.
However, she stiffened when an older, yet stunning, woman who reminded me of my own mother—stylish—came walking our way. Ireland addressed her as if she knew her well and was quite surprised to see her. “What are you doing here?” She definitely knew her, but it was the tone in her voice that was so strange—was Ireland upset?
“I was wondering the same exact thing,” the woman replied with an arched eyebrow as she continued to move closer to us.
My confusion escalated as I watched the two women hug awkwardly and talk quietly as my father walked up. “Son, glad you made it,” he said, embracing me as if he hadn’t seen me only a few hours earlier at work.
“He’s your father?” I heard the attractive woman inquire as she pulled back from Ireland with a shocked expression on her face just when my perfectly dressed mother joined us and greeted me with a kiss to each cheek—something new. Probably learned from the foreigners they were in cahoots with; trying to combine a merger and marriage into one.
“Yes, this is our son Jensen.” My mother smiled proudly, linking her arm with mine before realizing that my other arm was attached to Ireland. “Who is she?” I didn’t like the tone in her voice and was about to say something when the woman spoke up.
“My daughter. She said she wasn’t coming and then…imagine my surprise to see her.” I felt Ireland disengage from my side with a surprised look on her face.
“Your daughter?” My father asked, tilting his head and looking between the two women that looked very similar when I moved back and made my own assessment.
“Yes, our beautiful Ireland,” a man’s voice boomed from behind me and then he had her in his arms as my father had me only moments ago.
“I’m confused,” I said, looking around at everyone along with my Ireland who seemed to share my sentiments as she stood with her mouth agape. “Ireland is my wife. The woman I married in Vegas.”
“You married him?” Ireland’s mother was pointing her finger at me before waving her hand up and down in front of me as she continued, not sure if it was an approving tone or not. “This is the man you wed to avoid marrying a stranger? This is the father of your baby?” She suddenly sounded elated and smiled brightly before covering her mouth with both of her hands as if she was about to pray.
“Baby?” My mother asked first.
Followed by my father, “Baby?”
And then Ireland’s father, “Baby?” Apparently, her mother kept that info to herself.
The word seemed to be echoing around our closed circle, mere steps away from other guests, with me questioning lastly. “Baby? But we’ve been careful except for…but you were on your…” Not a discussion to be having in front of my parents or hers, I stumbled on my words.
“She was your virgin bride,” Ireland’s mother proudly announced.
“Virgin? But…” How was that even possible? A virgin. She didn’t act like a virgin. Although, I had never been with a virgin before—or to my knowledge—so how would I know how they acted? And she was twenty-nine years old…nearly thirty…and beautiful with a body of a goddess… “How…baby?” My focus was only on my wife. The woman I was supposed to marry as in arranged to wed. I shook my head in disbelief at the turn of events.
“Wait!” My mother looked as if a bell had gone off in her head and she needed to make a big announcement with her arms spread wide in the air. “Are you telling me that you two got married to each other in Vegas? Jensen Michael Callum, you married their daughter…our new associates’ daughter…the one we arranged for you to be marrying in a few weeks?”
“Yes, they did,” Ireland’s mother spoke up first. Can you believe the irony of the whole situation? They are truly a perfect match—meant to be…destined.”
I didn’t know what to say as so many thoughts were swirling through my brain. It was Ireland who brought me back with her touch to my arm and her soft voice, barely above a whisper. “Can we talk somewhere private?”
“Good idea,” my mother chimed in. “Take her into the library. We’ll hold dinner…oh, I am so excited to announce to our guests that the bride and groom-to-be have arrived and everything is a go as planned.”
“Wedding?” I turned toward my mother. “We’re already married.”
“No one knows and no one saw it. Everything’s set,” Ireland’s mother spoke up, wearing a smile nearly as bright as my mother’s.
“Mother, why would you not cancel the arrangements? I told you that we got married.” Ireland had moved out of my reach to confront her mother. “Didn’t you tell everyone that I eloped?” I watched Ireland dip her head as if she was trying to figure out a big puzzle and then she turned to me. “Didn’t you tell your parents about us?”
“Can we speak in private, Ireland?” I had so many questions and I wanted to explain the situation to her away from probing eyes that seemed baffled by the whole situation unfolding. In my experience, arms waving and raised voices are usually not a good sign.
“No…yes… Can you please take me home?” She looked up at me with her beautiful eyes the perfect shade of roasted almonds. “I don’t feel well.”
“Of course.” I moved to her and wrapped my arm around her shoulder. Then, with her tucked in close to my side, I walked her to the elevator, through the lobby, and asked the doorman to call our car while I held her tightly.
I had a million thoughts running through my head and I was certain that Ireland probably shared a few of the same ones right along with me. We had both thought that we were stopping…deceiving our parents by marrying each other. We were avoiding marriages that had been arranged for us, but not for us together…or so we thought. The wedding Gods must’ve been looking down on us as we tied the knot in the Vegas chapel, chuckling wildly. I could just imagine our parents laughing and toasting to their good fortune, several stories above us, as we slipped into the back of our hired car.
The ride across the bridge was fairly quiet, but at least Ireland was up close to me with her head on my shoulder and our fingers were entwined. I wanted to say so many things to her about when we first met to just an hour ago in our closet. Things didn’t make sense to me and then again, they did since we had been avoiding the reality of our situation. The fact that we had both been running away from our family obligations and not—definitely not discussing them with each other. It was obvious that we had both told our parents that we had chosen other partners without revealing names. If we had been truthful in the very beginning, where would we be now?
Things up until the big reality check had been fucking amazing and I wouldn’t go back and do anything differently. If we had mentioned our parent’s companies at the pool, what would’ve happened? Would we have decided to get to know each other and go ahead with the arranged marriage? There was an instant attraction that continued after we moved in together and the sex was great…the sex…
My thoughts had come full circle back to the possible issue…issue was a terrible word…the baby…our baby. Was I going to be a father? Were we going to be parents? We had so much to talk about and I was happy when we finally arrived at our home.