Chapter 1: The Mix-Up

Clarice Bell drummed her fingers restlessly against the smooth surface of her desk, her gaze narrowing on the thick envelope that lay before her. It stood out against the usual mess of legal briefs and case files that cluttered her workspace. Her name was boldly written on the front in dark ink. There was no return address, no law firm logo, nothing to reveal its origin. Clarice wasn't a fan of surprises, and she certainly had no patience for mysterious mail.

Grabbing her letter opener, she carefully sliced through the seal. As she pulled out the documents, confusion knitted her brow.

"A marriage contract?" she read aloud, flipping through the pages.

There it was, plain as day—a full legal document declaring that she was married to someone named James Burrows. She skimmed the details, desperate for some clarity, yet her confusion only deepened. The document proclaimed that she and this James had been legally wed for two weeks. It also included financial arrangements, shared property details, and a bizarre inheritance clause that made her head spin.

Her heart raced as she grabbed her phone and quickly called her best friend and fellow lawyer, Jenna Riley.

"Jenna, I've completely lost my mind," Clarice said the moment her friend answered.

"Clarice, it's barely nine in the morning. What's happened?"

"Apparently, I'm married."

There was a brief pause on the other end before Jenna erupted in laughter. "Wait, what? Did you get intoxicated in Vegas or something?"

"I wish it were that simple. No, seriously, I have this document in front of me. It states that I'm married to a guy named James Burrows. There's a contract and everything." Leaning back in her chair, she held the phone between her ear and shoulder, flipping through the pages again, half-hoping to uncover a hidden joke.

Jenna's laughter faded into curious intrigue. "James Burrows? Is he related to that writer? This could be quite the story. Married to a writer? At least he's probably got charm."

Clarice rubbed her temples in frustration. "Charm? This is anything but charming, Jenna. This is a legal disaster! I can't fathom how this even happened! Do you think I signed something without realizing it?"

"Clarice, you're the most meticulous person I know. You wouldn't sign a napkin without scrutinizing it first."

Clarice sighed in agreement. "Exactly. So how could I possibly be married to this man? There must be a mistake."

"Okay, take a breath. What does the contract say? Maybe it's some weird scam. A really strange scam."

Clarice straightened up, turning back to the document. "It includes all sorts of clauses about shared property, some absurd inheritance condition, and financial obligations. It's definitely legal jargon, but I never agreed to any of it. And I've never even met this guy!"

"Maybe you should track him down," Jenna suggested. "Find him and get some answers. If it's a scam, confronting him might clear things up."

Clarice let out a sharp breath. "I can't believe I'm actually considering this."

"Listen, it's either that, or you sit there panicking all day. Who knows? Meeting him might turn out to be a hilarious mix-up. And if not, well, you're a lawyer—you can handle it."

Clarice grimaced. "Alright. I'll find him and figure this out. But if this turns out to be some elaborate prank, someone's going to regret it."

Once the call ended, Clarice set about finding James Burrows. A quick online search confirmed he was indeed a writer—an emerging novelist, to be specific, with a few well-received books to his name. He lived in a trendy neighborhood she had never found reason to visit. Within half an hour, she had an address, and soon enough, she found herself standing outside a quaint brownstone, a mix of curiosity and irritation churning inside her.

She knocked twice and stepped back to wait. Moments later, the door swung open, revealing a man—tall, with tousled brown hair and a five o'clock shadow indicating a long night of either writing or not writing.

"Uh, can I help you?" he asked, eyeing her skeptically.

Clarice raised an eyebrow. "James Burrows?"

"Yeah, that's me. Who are you?"

She raised the envelope. "I think we're married."

James blinked. "I'm sorry, what?"

Clarice handed him the papers, watching as his look of confusion deepened. He quickly scanned the first page, then the second, before turning back to her with an incredulous expression.

"This has to be a mistake," James said, stepping aside to let her in. "I mean, I don't know you. And I'm pretty sure I didn't get married without realizing it."

"Pretty sure?" Clarice echoed, stepping into the foyer. His place was surprisingly cozy—books stacked on shelves and in piles along the floor, mismatched furniture, and a coffee mug resting precariously on the edge of the couch. She found herself oddly charmed by the mess.

James shrugged. "Well, there was that one weekend in Vegas—kidding. Seriously, though, I have no idea what this is about."

Clarice crossed her arms, watching as he paced back and forth, scanning the document. "So, you didn't sign any marriage contract?"

"Not unless I was sleepwalking through it," James muttered, rubbing the back of his neck. "This is insane. How did this even happen?"

"That's what I'd like to know," Clarice replied sharply. "I'm not exactly thrilled about this either. I have a career, a life—I don't have time for whatever this is."

James looked up at her, his expression softening into a half-smile. "So, this isn't your idea of the perfect romantic meet-cute?"

Clarice gave him a look. "Hardly."

James chuckled, handing the papers back to her. "Well, for what it's worth, I'm just as confused as you are. I don't know how we ended up in this situation, but we should probably figure it out before we start sending out wedding invites."

Clarice sighed. "Agreed. There has to be some sort of explanation. I was thinking of checking with the lawyer listed in the contract—maybe they can shed some light on this."

James nodded. "Yeah, good idea. I'll come with you. I'd like to get to the bottom of this too."

Clarice hesitated for a moment before agreeing. "Fine. We'll go together. But just so we're clear—this is a legal issue, nothing more."

"Understood, partner," James said with a grin, holding out his hand.

Clarice ignored the playful tone and shook his hand firmly. "Let's just get this over with."

As she left James's brownstone, Clarice couldn't help but feel the absurdity of the situation weighing on her. Married to a stranger? She had spent years meticulously planning her career and her life, and now this.

The mystery was only just beginning, and she had no idea what surprises lay ahead.