C1 We Meet Again

Just as I found it very difficult to believe, my legs froze on the cemented floor as soon as I stepped out of the car. This is it. This is where he has been living, secluded but living a lavish lifestyle. I inhaled sharply. This is my abode now, and it doesn't matter if he accepts me or not.

"Don't just stand there. Let's go." Mrs Dabs barked at me as she clutched her husky little dog like a precious jewel and stepped into the elevator. I clutched my bag tightly, taking in the whole scenario.

"Don't be naïve. And please stop clutching onto your bag. Don't behave like a servant. You're not here to be a maid. Do you understand me?"

"Of course."

I know it's hard for Mrs Dabs to pull this off with his nephew, but who cares? All I have to do is love the man, and that I have in excess.

"Just don't piss him off. But that doesn't mean you should do everything he says. You're getting married next month. Don't forget that. This encounter is just for you to stay true to the cause. He mustn't be chased out of the family house. I am all he's got. I can't let him down. Poor Lewis. He isn't cut up for all these."

Mrs. Dabs kept on going and going about how I was supposed to be this charming and civilized individual to be able to fit into the picture of a wife her nephew would die for. Truth is, Lewis hasn't had an interest in anyone since high school, and I don't see any reason why he should now, especially now that he is this wealthy illegitimate son of a billionaire who passed away some years back.

I tried to release my grip on the bag, giving Mrs Dabs the satisfaction of smiling broadly and tilting her head in a rather disturbing manner. Money could make you do all sorts of things. Or is this not the same Mrs Dabs who drove a tricycle a couple of streets away from my house some years back?

I remembered her short friendship with my Mama before the latter passed away. Nonetheless, I am here now. She had chosen me out of pity to put a stop to her nephew's 'madness' as she had called it.

The elevator dinged, and she faced me squarely, adjusting the slit cocktail dress she had ordered earlier while I sat in her duplex, listening to all sorts of crazy activities recently happening in her nephew's life. Not that I want to know. Not that I care, but she wants it. She wants the money and fame so badly that she believes her nephew is a step away from being kicked out of the Dawson family, the face behind the global industry, an industry worth billions of dollars.

"Remember, his name is Lewis."

"I know, Mrs Dabs. We went to high school together," I jolted.

"No. That's not who you went to high school with anymore. He's a changed man. That's why you're here. You're here to make him remember who he is and stop clamoring over a lady who'll probably never come back to him. Do you understand me?"

"Yes, I do understand."

Of course, I've heard the same story over and over again and it has reached the point where it hurts my ears. He married Danielle two years back, and now she is gone, and he couldn't get over her. The family is concerned he is becoming worn out to manage the company, and Mrs Dabs suspects they're planning to lay him off since his father is no longer there to protect him. I'm here to shift his attention. I'm here to show him love. To gain his focus and make him stay true to the cause. I can do that as long as Mrs Dabs keeps her promise. I am not to make him love me enough to want me to stay, but to make him see the reason why he should let go of Danielle and focus on his cause, and that's not getting kicked out by the Dawson family. I have six months to achieve that.

What's my pay for this? I'll have the charismatic Lewis to myself for six months, and I get to boost my Instagram followers with new posts and a lavish lifestyle. Lots of money too. I need the money and Harry does too.

In seconds, we're standing inside his furnished multimillionaire apartment. I try as much as possible not to gasp. This is marvelous. Mrs Dabs walked in briskly, and I followed suit.

"Sit here," she said, gently placing her dog on the carpet rug.

I sit pompously, adjusting the gown so that my cleavage is vividly portrayed. I'm not comfortable, but it doesn't matter.

He walks out of his room, and I fight the urge to gasp again. Who is this?

"She is the one I'm talking about, and you're getting married next month."

"If she is going to leave after six months, why get married?" His voice is husky. Did he party last night?

"In case you don't get out of your head before then, she'll have to stay longer, I'm afraid." Her voice is authoritative. She has been taking care of him since her sister passed away. Not until after some years did the billionaire come to claim him as his son.

"My name is Evelyn." I quickly stand, outstretching my hand for a shake. He looks past my hand and looks straight into his aunt's eyes.

"I don't need a nanny." He blurts out.

"Nanny?" I scoff softly. Being rich made him an asshole too. Great.

"He is not a nanny. You know what I want from you. Flaunt her. Bring her to the family dinner tonight. Let them know you have someone in your life and stop cowering. And let Gerald know you're getting married next month. He should suck on that."

I just stand, looking and staring at the two as they exchange words after words. All I have to do is love and pretend. That, I can pull off. But if this would put my life in danger, no matter how reassuring Mrs Dabs' words are, then I'll have to leave.