Glamorous (#Watty 2017) [Completed]

Seven.

People will stare. Make it worth their while.

"OK. " Michael patted his thigh and an eager Emily perched on it, all ears. " lots of women call me heartless but believe it or not this is my  love story.
I am not a good storyteller or anything so here goes. "

Thirty minutes filled with the gooey, mushy crap he could think of to appeal to the romantic in Emily he came to the end.

" and that's how i met Maxie "
He finished with the flare of a seasoned narrator.

He watched her catch her lower lip between her teeth a mirror image of her mother when deep in thought.
He could literally see wheels turning in her young brain trying to place the name to any Lady friends of his and coming blank.
Her face scrunched into a frown before it dawn on her. Her eyes lighting up.

" Maxie ?" Emily's young voice dripped with incredulity and disappointment. " your three legged dog Maxie? "

" Yes." Michael replied looking mock hurt filled with self righteous indignation.
"what's so wrong with that. Don't crippled dogs deserve to be loved too? "

" Was that a rhetorical question?"
Emily asked trying to be funny looking unsure of herself.
She got more  nonplussed with his angry set of lips as he looked away.

" Of course their isn't anything wrong with it but I thought you were going to name a woman and anyway I thought you hated that dog.? "
She relented.

" she is stubborn as hell but love is never easy. "

" It's the ugliest dog that ever lived. "

" How dare you. You know what I have to defend my loves honour. So Emily ikehorn O'Neill I challenge you to a fight to the death. " Michael all but growled picking up a fake sword and brandishing it ready for a fight.

" Challenge accepted. I would love nothing more than to tear you to pieces " Emily said in a thick manly badly accented voice. " May the best win."

"Prepare to die!"
She added for dramatic effect already enjoying the sparring.
Imitating movie characters from her favorite movies.
The fighting  more fun  than playing with dolls.

" Die!And I sure hope you burn in hell"
Growled Emily lifting her sword ready to impale it into Michael's lying 'injured' body.
She enjoyed watching him cry out in pain and fake gushing of blood before he went still faking death.
She let out her best evil laughter.

" What's in the name of God is going on? "
Sasha walked in her long hair cut short so that it had shaped itself into careless tangle at nape of her long neck and sprang back from her forehead in thick loose curls, a deceptively casual elegant style.
She was clad in a fitted belted red linen jacket and crisply tailored designer trousers. On her hand she carried a matching Louis Vuitton hand bag.
An image of an Angel but the look on her face was anything but angelic.

She was in a foul mood.

Her ever reliable teenage babysitter had called in sick of all the days when there was a problem that needed her intervention in the new outlet in Hong Kong. A problem that needed immediate taking care and lucky for her Michael volunteered to step in but she was already questioning the intelligence of leaving them alone.
And to add to her troubles her living room was a mess apparently an aftermath of war. The carnage of a fierce war that her daughter was the obvious winner. She thought with a hint of pride.
There is my flesh and bone she thought proudly despite herself when at times she had a hard time wrapping her head around the fact she was her daughter.

Her private jet left in thirty minutes and her ride was already waiting.

Looking at her elegant Rolex watch she cursed under  her breath and swung her worried eyes back at her daughter and Michael sprawled on her  living room. Talk about dilemma. But at least they were having fun and that was better than Emily sulking  and acting like her departure didn't affect her.  But It still hurt seeing her daughter having so much fun without her. The thought led to a shot of guilt shooting up her gut. What kind of a mother preferred her only daughter to sulk and cry when she left so she could be assured  of her love?
Answer Sasha O'Neill  the mom of the year.  She thought sarcastically tempted to give her own version of an evil laughter.

" Emily I would be on my way now but I will be back before you know it"

She told herself it didn't hurt that Emily didn't even spare her a look or kiss her goodbye. She stormed out fighting the urge to scream in frustration. 
Clearly this wasn't her best days.

She ignored Michael all together hating him at that moment for being the center of her daughter's world but it was only temporarily. She assured herself.
She couldn't wait to come back and kick Michael out and enjoy her daughter all by herself. The thought did wonders to her foul mood.

She was closing the heavy front door behind herself when she had the distinct full shattering of glass. Her improving good moods shattering in the process.
Was that her her very expensive Chinese antique thirteen century vase?
She debated turning back to find out fighting the impulse to kill and skin Michael alive but ignorance was bliss so she made her way to her car clearing her mind of any worries.

Those two tested her patience. But she had no inclination to indulge them even if they rubbed her the wrong way, ruffling her feathers in the process.
What more could go wrong ? She wondered but the day was still young.

                          °°°°°°°°

Michael sat in the chintz- cushioned bay window in Emily's pink room, watching the garden..
Emily was soundly sleeping after their crazy adventure.

Michael watched the garden, a secluded world of mystic freshness and splendour. A multitude of greens and softness of many bright flowers.
From what he heard, Sasha had hired the greatest landscape ever and dozen tons of earth had been moved. Hundreds of grown trees moved to the site by cranes. Reflecting pools dug to create the enchanting Paradise he now saw.

The vast garden stretched as far as he could see. Even after knowing what to expect the sight still took his breath away. Fascinating and tantalizing him with its calm serenity and dazzling beauty.

He decided to take a walk.

Enjoying the cool refreshing atmosphere, the heady scent of thousands of flowers swirling in the afternoon balmy air, the serene pools, the gurgling fountains with its climbing vines, the majestic rows of sycamores trees that divided a perfect sweep of lawn and the well tended mellow flowerbeds. All in perfect harmony.

A garden fit for a king. Or abnormally rich woman he concluded.

                               •••••••

Sasha O'Neill was humming as she prepared to board her jet when kelvin Josh appeared from no where.

" An what brings you here ? And please don't tell me you just came to  wish me a safe flight."
Sasha wore an expression of amusement and weary caution as she accessed the man in front of her. Thrilled by the new development but also worried by his domineering presence.

" Don't get angry," he said after beating around the bush enough to annoy her. " But you may need a helping hand in a strange new town and also I would love to see the market I would be designing for. And don't bother to stop me  because you know how stubborn I can get." He added before she jumped into litany of excuses and curses.
He didn't put it above her to send him packing.

"Welcome on board then"
Sasha said with a heavy heart after the silence between them had stretched to bordering awkward.
He wasn't sure who was more shocked by the invitation between them.

She eyed Kelvin as the plane taxied on the run already feeling she would regret her decision.
The man in question sucked the air out of the room as he made himself comfortable.
As the plane gained altitude her spirit sank the sexual tension between them like another presence in the plane.
She swung her eyes at him and hated what she saw there.
Yes she  was totally screwed. She thought both Metaphorical and figuratively.
She just hoped she made it through in one piece.
And for the second time that day she wondered what more could spin out of control.