Alexia POV
Yeah, so I woke up today with one clear mission: find that stupid card Mr. Almond Milk had given me. After all, if I was going to get married—and yeah, the thought still made me gag a little—I needed to call him. The wedding couldn't exactly happen if the groom didn't know I was on board, right?
And while I was at it, maybe we could discuss the finer details of this bizarre arrangement. A girl's gotta know what she's signing up for, especially when the "contract" involves a guy who looks like he moonlights as a soap opera villain.
But first, the card.
"Where on earth did I put it?" I muttered, flipping over couch cushions like a woman possessed. The place was a mess, and yes, that was partly my fault. Between job hunting, fuming about life, I hadn't exactly been in the mood to tidy up.
