Chapter 3 Strange Day

Marcel was wiping the last of the café's disaster from his shirt as he got to his street.

The day had been definitely strange - from mistaking a rich woman as his date to suffering craziness from a rude bitch and then saving the same rich woman. It was crazy.

Could the day get any stranger?

When he arrived at his house, he got the answer to that question-the sight of Isabella standing at his door stopped him in his tracks. She was wearing the same white dress and was tapping seriously at her phone.

What the hell is she doing here?

After the disaster of their earlier date, the last thing he expected was to see her again, especially not here at his door.

He coughed and Isabella looked at him with a raised brow, her eyes quickly flicking over his form. "You again?" she asked, her voice filled with disbelief. "What are you doing here?"

Marcel frowned; he was confused by both her presence and her question. "I could ask you the same thing."

Isabella eyed him. "I'm here for dinner. My mother said her friend invited me over." She rolled her eyes and smirked as her tone dripped of her signature disdain. "Now I understand why. Wow. I didn't know you were so desperate.."

Marcel blinked as he felt a wave of irritation build in his chest and mixed with his confusion. "Desperate?"

Isabella's smirk turned into a sneer as she continued regardless. "You thought inviting me to your mother's house would make me fall for you? I didn't think you were that pathetic, Marcel, but clearly, I underestimated you."

He stared at her as he was made speechless for a moment.

She actually thought he invited her?

He couldn't believe her guts.

"I didn't invite you," he said slowly as he tried to keep his frustration in check.

Isabella looked momentarily taken aback. "Excuse me?"

Before Marcel could respond, the door opened, and his mother appeared, her eyes, so like his own, sparkled as she smiled warmly at both of them. "Isabella! Marcel! Come in, come in. Dinner is almost ready."

Isabella's confusion quickly turned to a smug look as she glanced back at Marcel. "Of course, Mrs. Sterling. I'm so glad to be here."

Marcel followed them inside while he was still trying to piece together what was going on. His mother was clearly happy to see Isabella which showed that she was expecting her indeed. Still, the coincidence was something else.

As they sat down at the table, his mother began talking about her long friendship with Isabella's mother, reminiscing about old times. Meanwhile, Isabella sat with her chin held high while she glanced around, appraising the house like she owned it.

"So, Marcel," Isabella suddenly said, cutting off his mother mid-sentence. "You've been thinking about me, haven't you?"

Unsure of how to respond, Marcel blinked. "What?"

Isabella smirked as she leaned forward slightly towards him. "Why else would you go through all this trouble? A dinner with your mother? Really?"

Marcel's jaw clenched. "I didn't invite you here. My mother did."

The smugness on Isabella's face faltered for a moment before she quickly recovered. "Oh, please, Marcel. Don't try to play it cool. You've been staring at me since we sat down. It's obvious."

Marcel stared at her. Was she crazy? he wondered.

You've got it all wrong. I'm not interested in-"

She cut him off with a laugh. "Oh, come on. Let's not pretend. You think because I'm beautiful, I'm easy to impress? Sorry, darling, but it takes a lot more than this-" she gestured around the room dismissively, "-to win me over."

His mother's eyes widened. She was clearly shocked by the insult, but before she could say anything, Isabella turned her attention back to Marcel. "If you want a chance with me, Marcel, you're going to need to step up your game. A luxury car, expensive gifts... maybe then, I'll consider giving you a second date. Maybe."

Marcel felt the tension in the room rise even as his mother's face flushed with embarrassment. The audacity of Isabella's demands was beyond belief, and the way she spoke down to both him and his mother was infuriating. He took a deep breath as he tried to stay calm.

Wait till he tell his friends what they had caused. They would be kneeling to apologize to him.

"You don't get it, do you?" Marcel said finally. His voice was quiet but it carried a hard edge. "This isn't about impressing you. I didn't invite you, and I sure as hell don't owe you anything."

Isabella's smirk faded and was now replaced by a look of irritation. "You think you can talk to me like that? You're lucky someone like me is even sitting at the same table as you. A nurse?" She scoffed. "You're just a glorified servant. Do you really think someone of my caliber would ever seriously consider someone like you?"

Marcel's mother looked horrified at that statement. Her hand trembled slightly as she reached for her glass of water. "Isabella, I think you should-"

But before she could finish, the doorbell rang.

Marcel stood up quickly. He was grateful for the interruption because he was afraid he would do something he might regret if it didn't happen.

"I'll get it," he said, his voice tight with frustration. He moved toward the door eve. as his mind was still spinning from the onslaught of insults.

When he opened it, the last person he expected to see was standing on the other side.

Anna Blackwood.

Now dressed in casual black slacks and shirt, she looked as poised and confident as he had seen her at the cafe. Her sharp green eyes locked onto his the moment the door swung open. Beside her stood a woman who was behaving like an assistant and was holding a large, lavishly wrapped box.

His jaw dropped in shock as he stared at Anna.

"Good evening, Marcel," Anna said with a small, polite smile.

"I hope I'm not intruding, but I came to see you. I want to discuss something important with you."