Chapter Three

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Chapter Three

"So, Leila. Tell me," Marissa started with a quirk of her brow. She shifted back in her seat as her fingers curled around the warm cup of cappuccino. "What brings you here to the United States? Immigration?"

After a long argument, Marissa had insisted on taking Leila out for a short tour of the state. And Leila, being the coward that she was, had to reject the offer. She didn't like the idea of going out with a stranger, but Marissa was being too nice to her. She pushed her to agree, and Leila was just too shy to say no.

Their first stop was a small cozy coffee shop at the corner of Marissa's street. It was a suburban area on the outskirts of the town, away from all the hype and pollution. The cold breeze that tickled her face was fresh, with a heavy, spicy smell. The streets were wide, yet calm. The view was soothing to her heart.

Marissa had picked a table on the outside; one that overlooked a small kids' playground. It was basically an empty, square lot, fenced in wood just at the edge of the cliff it was built on. They both took their seats and a waitress came over to hand them the menus. Upon doing so, Leila realized that she didn't have any money. And even if her credit card held anything, it would only work inside of her own country.

Marissa ordered coffee, whilst Leila just settled with a glass of cold water. Marissa eyed her curiously, but didn't comment. There was no way she was going to admit that out loud. She was already in some deep shit in the financial field, and she didn't need any more trouble. She wasn't even supposed to be there at that moment. She was meant to be at her new home, with her new husband, ready to cross the threshold to a new, better life.

"My husband; he has some business in the States, so I decided to come along," Leila replied in a small voice. She internally praised herself for saying the right thing. It was the real answer, yet not the complete truth.

Marissa took a sip of her beverage. She inhaled the scent of the heavy brew, keeping her lips lingering for a while. Then, she lowered the cup and put it back in place on the table.

"Well, that's nice. It's always better to keep an eye on them, you know. You can never know what could possible happen in your absence."

The doubt seeped into Leila's thoughts. Marissa was technically telling her to be careful of being cheated on. Could that possible be true? For all she knew, the Gareth son had lived in the United States almost all of his life. Perhaps he had mimicked the majority of their actions. One of which, was cheating.

Instantly, she doubted her decision of agreeing to that deal. She wasn't yet ready to deal with such characters. She could barely handle her own self. She had grown up to be the loner that she was. She barely had any social encounters with people of the other sex. She didn't know how their minds worked or how they were thinking. She was oblivious to a lot of things. She thought it was going to be an easy task; finish the minimum required period as his wife, then she could flee for her life with no regret.

"Have you ever been to Los Angeles before, if I may ask?" Marissa questioned. Her tone was light-hearted, but the question unnerved Leila. Once the questionnaire session started, she knew that the judging meter would start moving by then. If she said something inappropriate, she was gone.

Leila shifted uncomfortably in her seat. She set both of her forearms on the surface of the round table that separated them; a habit she was used to doing since she was young. "Um ... no, I haven't. Actually, the furthest I've been to since I was born, is my college," She admitted, focusing on the small watch around the bone of her wrist. It was better to distract herself from the stress. Straightforward eye contact wasn't her thing either.

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