HOOKED

CHAPTER THREE

"How else do you expect me to react to this sudden news of your choice, mother?"

"Hold on to your manners, Siena." she glared at me like it was a warning. "And I absolutely hate when you call me that." she sighed, frustration audible in her tone.

"Would you prefer me calling you simply my birth-giver, because you are not acting like my mom, Mrs. Dallarosa." I argued in further frustration but could not help but let a laugh c***k out because of how funny my words sounded, causing my mother to roll her eyes as she laughed at my joke as well.

"Just go on the date, Siena. I'll count it as a favor." she sighed, apparently tired of me. "I am done with this argument."

"Fine." I groaned, trying not to sound as frustrated as I was. "I will go to the date but know that I will not be settling for an arranged marriage." I made my statement as I turned around and was ready to stomp off.

"You will, once you know the deal." My mother sighed like she had no doubts, taking a seat back on her couch and holding up her cup of tea that was growing cold to take a sip.

My brows furrowed in confusion as I turned around to face her again. "What deal are you speaking about?"

"The marriage would take place solely for the benefit of you both. What is to say no to that?" she sipped her tea as I looked at her in disbelief but still standing to hear her out.

"I believe he has a contract ready for you. Go to the date and consider reading it, at the very least. You might be intimidated. And for a bonus, he is a very handsome young man, not to mention the billionaire he is at this age. You would be a fool to say no, Siena."

"If you are this interested, why don't you marry him? Dad is not in the picture anymore now anyway." The words left my mouth without my own consent, without realizing how disrespectful they were.

"Hold on to your tongue." She glared, her jaw clenching, clearly offended, which put me back in my place.

"I'm sorry, I did not mean that." I apologized sincerely. "It's just that...firstly, I am not a gold digger, Mom." I gritted my teeth secretly, slightly offended by her words from earlier when she pointed out the advantages of this so-called marriage that she was proposing me to be about, although I was aware that she did not mean it in that sense.

"I know, Siena. But I do not want you to miss the opportunity to settle into a comfortable life of luxury because of your pursuit of true love that does not exist."

"Have you never fallen in love, Mom?" I sighed, taking a seat, unsure of where this conversation was headed.

"I have and so have you. And we both know how that has led us nowhere." She mentioned it and I felt a pang in the chest as my heart clenched at remembering how love had never favored me positively.

My first love from back in high school left me with nothing but lingering feelings that were never perhaps noticed and it was only understandable for my mother to be concerned because she was present whenever I fell to the ground in pain and suffered to rise from there for years. And ever since, my pursuit of love has hardly led me anywhere, despite the fair number of suitable places I have tried to settle in, although not so serious, not to mention how hard it has become for me to go out anywhere ever since the loss of my father to a tragedy.

I remained silent, not knowing how to respond from there.

"You can take your time to think about it, since I understand that this is a big decision to make. But go on the date tonight, it won't do you any harm." Her tone was calm and gentle, which helped me relax a slight bit.

I breathed out, giving up the argument and trying to see through things from her point of view. I nodded, looking down and exiting the living room, heading towards my bedroom.

As I tried to rethink about things and contemplated going on the blind date my mother had been hellbent on sending me on, in the back of my head, I felt as if I was forgetting something, but I was unsure of what. I tried to recall what it was that I was missing out on but my mind felt absent. Without letting much tension rise, I chose to rather focus on my current situation.

I entered my bedroom and the first course of action I took was to open my closet to see if I even had the proper outfit to wear for this blind date.

Hm.. black is a colorful color, right? If yes, I was pretty sure I had a rainbow there. Off, Charcoal, Grease, Onyx... all the way to Raven, Ink, Obsidian, Sable and Jode; no shade missed.

I took a moment afterwards to rummage through my wardrobe, hoping to find any outfit out of the ordinary that would not be in a shade of black. It was only after my efforts were in vain that I realized I do not have any reason to dress up outside of my comfort color when I do not have the intention of impressing this guy I will meet for the first and last time on this date my mother is so reluctant to send me on.

I only spent a minute for the bare minimum afterwards before bringing out my confident outfit that I could wear endless amounts of times. It was a black bodycon that suited well with my signature cropped leather jacket that I tried to wear on every occasion I could. And the same went for my ankle lock boots.

On the matter of clothing, I was different from most girls. In every other girl I have encountered in my life, I have noticed that most prefer to wear a new outfit for every occasion and never to repeat the same outfit in front of the same person they have worn it once before. I'm not sure what their justification for it was but perhaps it was their way to find their confidence. For me the case was rather that once my body feels comfortable in an outfit, I prefer not to change it until something better arrives; just like I wouldn't change my house every time I invite a guest, be it someone new or someone I meet often.

Instead of constantly experimenting with different styles to distinguish what I am insecure in and what not, I went with the easier choice of wearing what I had already figured that I was comfortable in. And black has always been the standard. Who would disagree?

Quickly dressing up, putting on gloss on my lips that had a blush red tint and leaving my hair loose but straightened to look more sophisticated and polite, I was ready for the date.

"So much for not dressing up. Can't help it, can you?" I sighed as I looked at myself in the mirror and couldn't help but chuckle.

A blush cracked on my face at feeling pretty that I had to capture a mirror selfie before I left the room immediately to prevent myself from getting any late. I've had my share of insecurities, which is why I was always taken aback whenever I found myself pretty in the mirror, which I considered my worst enemy at times.

Without any further delay, I exited my house, ignoring my excited mother although the smile on her face almost melted me enough to consider the arranged marriage, but I did not allow myself to be easily shaken. I got on my bike afterwards, securing the helmet on my head, less for a safety measurement and more for road rules that I was not allowed to ignore. I'm sorry, I won't apologize for being a lady who prefers riding bikes over driving a car.

It was fifteen minutes past seven o'clock when I arrived at the restaurant where my mother had sent me the location of the date. Fixing my hair as I entered to straighten it back from looking like the mess it did because of the helmet and hard wind outside ( or perhaps because I rode my bike too fast ).

It took me a moment as I looked around until I realized that it made no sense for me to be searching around for a face that I would not recognize. I took out my phone to call my silly mother, who had forgotten to show me the picture of the guy that I was supposed to meet tonight out of her own excitement, as I walked further inside the restaurant to find an empty booth to sit in.

By the unfortunate favor of fate, my mother did not pick up the call. But it was only then that a voice called out to me from behind, one with that husky raspiness and a melody of its own that I would recognize anywhere because of the butterflies it had filled me up with every time.

"Siena Dallarosa!"

"Jeremy Peterson?"