5. WHO IS YOUR BOSS? 2

Nervousness compressed her. Head still bowed, she kept mute.

"Are you one of the new cleaners? Did Rosa employ you? Didn't she tell you that you don't touch my things unless I ask you to? And how dare you walk into my room without knocking? You are fired!" He angrily yelled at her.

Orla panicked. There was no way she could look into his eyes when he was sounding that way.

"I–I–I am sorry," she spilled out in a shaky voice, sweat trickling down her forehead.

"Leave this moment!" Callan barked at her, throwing his hand towards the door.

Orla nodded and turned around to leave. Raising her head, her eyes met with Callan's and within a flash, she saw the astonishment on his face.

"Wait!" He raised his hand to halt her, a knock came in at that time.

Rosa walked in with a grim expression marring her face. "I am sorry, I had to go reconfirm our payments with Bechang Company."

Though angry, Callan said nothing. He looked back at her and said, "Why did you leave her to barge into my room?"

"I am sorry, Boss," Rosa emphasized, her eyes ogling Orla who was still confused about the whole thing.

Callan stared at Orla, nodding his head after a long time. "Sit on the sofa," he commanded, gesturing to the sofa at the far end of the room.

Orla obeyed without complaints, wondering why he was so mad at Rosa because of her mistake. He was meant to be glad to see her since she was chosen by him and he even invited her over but the reverse was the case.

He looked too mad to see her and she was disappointed. Maybe he didn't want her at all, she thought. No one ever wanted her though, she'd always been a rejected child.

"Her clothes are tattered," Orla heard Callan whispering to Rosa.

She lowered her head to take a good look at the long gown she donned. It wasn't tattered, it was her favorite gown. Why would Callan call her favorite cloth tattered? Her lips curved into a frown as she gaped at the both of them.

"Call Liam to get her new clothes." He ordered.

"Yes, Boss." Rosa bowed her head in deference. "I will do that now." She was gone again and now Orla was left with Callan in the room.

He walked over to where she was seated and crouched down on the sofa that was opposite hers. "I told David to bring you over. Why didn't you wear something more decent? Did you think you were going to a funeral?" He asked sternly, his face devoid of emotions.

Orla shifted uncomfortably in her seat. She wanted to scold Callan for berating her best dress, but that would be a bad idea. He hated her already and she didn't want to aggravate the hatred he felt towards her.

"Liam will soon be here. He will take your measurements and get you new clothes that you'd be needing for dinner. My mom wants to meet you."

The severity that laced his voice sent cold shivers down her spine. She gulped down her words and nodded obediently, she didn't dare to oppose him or ask him questions. The ferocious look on his face frightened her and she felt she just had to obey every of his orders without query.

When Callan looked away, she took a few seconds to study him. He was hot and domineering. The most handsome man she'd ever seen. She didn't think she deserved him. She was nowhere close to the class of women he'd be with and she was sure of that.

She wondered why Callan chose her instead of her sisters. She wasn't fit for him. Mia and her other sisters were good for him, but she was nowhere close.

"What's your name again?" Callan queried, facing her.

Her heart dropped when he asked. She tried to remember if she told him her name the previous night but her memory suddenly became blank.

Even if she told him, it didn't matter. It was obvious he didn't care about her and he would not even have remembered if she told him.

"Orla Sullivan," she responded, her voice cracking as she spoke out of fear. She dared to look into his eyes, and he looked back at her, locking eyes with her for a few seconds. She opened her mouth and before she could stop herself, the words slipped off her mouth. "Why did you choose to marry me?"

Callan smiled cruelly. Resting his back on his couch, he said. "I haven't decided why I chose to marry you but maybe I will find out with time. But I want you to know that I have no interest in you. You are not the kind of woman I'd look at two times, so don't get your hopes too high because you will be disappointed!"

Orla nodded her head, wondering how he could be so mean with his words. "But," she wavered, her heart was hurting like she was punctured by a dagger. "But we can stop this whole thing. My sisters are beautiful. They are all you need and you can easily pick one of them. Please just let me go." She begged, hoping he would change his mind about this whole marriage thing.

"Liam will be here in a few minutes, he will take your measurements and sew nice dresses for you for dinner and…" He stalled, his eyes moving up from Orla's head down to the sandals she wore. "He would design the wedding dress because it's clear that none of your family members is interested in this whole thing and I don't want a horrible-looking bride on my wedding day." He rose to his feet, adjusting the blazer he wore. "I have to resume back to work. Wait here for Liam and do not roam around the place. I do not fancy it when people, strangers touch my properties without my consent." With that said, he walked over to the table, sat down on the armchair and swirled it around to face the window side.

Orla sat still on the sofa, her eyes on Callan. She could feel the wetness that dimmed her vision as she stared at Callan.

She sighed, wiping her tears with her thumb. It wasn't going to be a good one for her, she was certain that Callan's house would be more hellish than her father's mansion. But there was no way to stop the plans. No way at all.

The door to the room flew open and a tall young man with a very beautiful face and body walked in. He spotted Orla where she was seated and he screamed out, "Holy Moly, look at the beauty we have here."

Orla raised her head to see a strange face staring at her, confusion clouded her expression.

"Who are you?" She asked him.

"I should ask you that because I am not a stranger here." Liam lowered the briefcase in his hand on the couch and extended a hand to Orla. "Who is this Angel?"

Orla quickly stared at Callan who was oblivious to Liam's presence. She wasn't certain of the response to give him. She didn't know if she should tell Liam she was Callan's prospective bride or one of the seven daughters of the great Arnold Sullivan's family.

Rosa stepped in and gave the measuring tape to Liam. "She's the Boss's wife-to-be, you should take her measurements now. There is a dinner she has to attend with the Boss." She said sternly, but her stony expression was replaced with a smile when Liam flirtatiously smiled at her.

"The bride?" He took Orla's hand again and assessed her. "I didn't know that Callan had eyes for very tiny women like her. I thought he only went out with… My bad, my bad," he chuckled when he saw Callan standing next to Orla. He wondered when he got there.

"Liam!" Callan cautioned.

"Callan," Liam smiled causally. "You bad man. What's your plan this time?"

"Get her a dress for tonight's dinner and a good one for our wedding," Callan responded, folding his hands in the pockets of his slacks.

"Wedding?" Liam asked, befuddled.

"Don't act like you are surprised, I overheard Rosa telling you about it. Do what you have to do and come over for a drink when you are done with her." Callan avouched.

"Oh, I see. So, when are you going to introduce me to your beautiful bride-to-be?" Liam asked playfully, but he was largely snubbed by Callan who didn't wait a second later to listen to his friend's harangues.

He knew what was in store for him after Liam was done with Orla and he was very well prepared for them all.

"What color would you like to wear to dinner?" Liam swiveled back to face Orla who was having a difficult time deciding what she wanted. No one had ever asked her what she wanted, everyone she'd met just enforced things on her and it never mattered to them if she liked it or not, but Liam wasn't like that and she was impressed with him.

"Red will do." Rosa cut in when Orla was taking too much time to decide. She nodded her head In agreement with Rosa's words.

"Then let's go for red." Liam snapped his fingers and genuflected. "Maybe you haven't heard about me, but I will do a quick introduction now. I am Liam Ferguson, the most talented stylist in town, a best friend to Callan Barlowe. I am very much single and won't mind having you as mine if Callan misbehaves." He giggled, causing Orla to briefly smile. "Okay, that was a joke, I won't take what belongs to my friend." He smirked at Orla and pulled her closer. "Stay still and let me measure the most beautiful girl in the world, Ma'am." Smirking, he rolled out the tape rule and began to take her measurements.