Anthony:

"Charlotte's parents have invited us to lunch at their place. Clear your schedule for the weekend."

He crosses his arms over his chest, an arrogant look on his face. When he does that, all I can see is Della, and I prefer not to remember her.

"Who said I'm going?"

"Sebastian. Don't make this harder than it has to be."

"I'm not going. You can drag me, but I don't think you'd succeed."

I may be taller than my son, but he's buffer.

I can't threaten his inheritance for every miniscule thing. That is the one card I have already used.

"Why don't you get to know Charlotte? She's smart and successful." I don't say that she's beautiful, since it may not be age appropriate of me.

I only want the best for Sebastian.

"But she's not Adeline." He counters and I almost lose it.

"So you want Charlotte to be a whore?"

He smacks the wall in anger, looking like the spitting image of me. Every time I look at myself in my bathroom mirror at night. The same anger and hatred in his eyes.

"She. Is. Not. A. Whore." He seethes and I decide to calm myself down first. She doesn't possess a magic pussy, so I fail to understand how he's so caught up in her web.

"I don't care to chat about your wh-Adeline." I catch myself before the word whore slips out again.

"It's a request Sebastian. They want to meet their future son-in-law."

"I'm actually busy this weekend. I'll pay them a visit next weekend."

I narrow my eyes at that. "Do I have your word Sebastian?"

He rolls his eyes. "Yes, sir. I have to go."

I walk into my study about to tell Charles we won't be able to make it, but stop myself. Declining a first invitation is never good.

I dial Charles's number and wait for him to pick up. He does on the third ring.

"Anthony. You will be making it this weekend, correct?"

"Mr. Daymond, I will be making it, but unfortunately, my son has to attend a business meeting in London, so he won't be able to make it."

"That's fine, and stop with the Mr. Daymond. Call me Charles. We are to be in-laws soon, after all."

It's odd to call him Charles, considering the fact that he's a near stranger to me, but I relent.

"Alright Charles."

"How will you be arriving?"

"I'll bring my private jet."

"Would you mind bringing Charlotte with you?"

My eyebrows scrunch on their own.

"Of course not."

I hear a faint sigh.

"Thank you. She doesn't want to use my jet because she says it's a waste of fuel. She always flies commercial."

For some reason, that draws a chuckle out of me.

"It's the least I can do." He thanks me again and we hang up.

______________________________________

Charlotte:

I jolt awake when my phone rings. I run my palm down my face, realizing that I fell asleep on the couch.

I pat the couch, searching for my phone, until my palm wraps around cool metal.

"Hello?"

"Charlotte. I hope you didn't book the plane ticket yet." My Dad's voice makes me sit up on the couch.

"No Father, I was just about to." I was actually sleeping, but he doesn't need to know that. I never did get back to booking the ticket after my collision with Anthony.

"Well don't. I've invited the Crosswalks over. Sebastian will not be able to make it, but Anthony will be coming by himself in his jet. You can join him."

"Oh that's nice Dad, but it's not necessary."

"I wasn't giving you an option Charlotte."

I can literally imagine him raising his eyebrow at me.

"It's really fine Dad. I can come by myself." That sounded extremely dirty, so I correct myself.

"What I mean to say is that I can book a commercial ticket. No big deal."

"You're intimidated by Anthony, aren't you?" His tone is surprisingly mirthful. I can hear the smile in his voice.

"Of course not." I say immediately, giving myself away.

He laughs and my heart warms at that. I wish he laughed more often.

"You should get used to him baby doll. He is going to be your father-in-law and he's one of the best men I know. You know I only choose the best for you."

"But Dad, you chose his son for me." I point out the obvious.

"Of course I did silly girl. What I'm trying to tell you is that a good man will raise a good man. That's all."

"Alright Dad. When do I get ready?"

"I'm sure Anthony will text you the details."

"But he doesn't have my number."

"He's highly resourceful and influential. I'd be surprised if he didn't already have your number."

That sounds wrong on so many levels, but I let it be.

"Goodnight Charlotte."

"Goodnight Dad."

"Oh and Charlotte? Don't work yourself too much."

"Alright Dad." I smile and hang up.

I get off the couch and stretch my muscles, moaning when my shoulders pop. I'll need a good massage one of these days.

I change out of my work clothes into a comfortable oversized shirt. I reheat some macaroni in the microwave and eat it for dinner, considering I'm too tired to cook myself something. I chug down a Sprite with it. When I've finished the can, I burp loud and some of the macaroni comes back up, but I swallow it back down again.

Woah. Not doing that again. Note to self: Don't chug Sprite after eating macaroni. I clean up the dishes and double check the front door locks.

When I'm sure they're locked up nice and tight, I check my windows and once I'm satisfied, I go into my bedroom. I actually wanted a one bedroom apartment, but I decided to get a two bedroom one instead, so it would be convenient if I had any guests over. It's rarely occupied, but I clean it every week.

I switch off the lights, including the lamp, and close the curtains. I shut the closet tight and run to my bed and go under the covers, even covering my face. I don't want a ghost staring back into my eyes if I pull down my covers.

With an image of an ideal wedding dress floating through my mind, I go to sleep.

Charlotte:

The next morning, I brush my teeth, take a shower and pack a bag. When I finish zipping up the bag, my phone buzzes with a text. I open it and find an address to a private airport.

I eat an apple and banana for breakfast and sling my bag over my shoulder, locking the door behind me.

Franco, being his usual punctual self, waits for me.

"Good morning Franco." I toss him an apple which he deftly catches.

"Good morning Ms. Daymond."

"Oh Franco, just call me Charlotte." I say over my shoulder as I get into the backseat of the car. He closes the door and gets behind the wheel.

"Where to Ms. Daymond?"

I sigh. "We need to go to Teterboro Airport."

He nods and starts the engine. I look through my phone to check my mail and respond to the ones that say 'Immediate response required'.

When I'm done, I have nothing else to do, so I decide to bother Franco. He's only been my driver from the past two weeks.

"Franco, are you married?"

He laughs.

"For the past 25 years miss."

I lean in between the seats.

"Well, how come you've never talked about your wife?"

"It is not professional."

"Well, what's her name?"

"Beatrice, but I call her Bea."

"She sounds lovely. Tell me more."

"We got married fresh out of high school. I had some jobs here and there and Bea is an excellent baker. We were doing quite well. Then, we had little Susanna. A few years later, Phineas came along."

"Susanna? Phineas? How come you never introduced me to them?" I'm just teasing, but he doesn't need to know that.

"Anna lives in Houston with her husband and their son. Phineas works in Ohio."

"Well, you sure must miss them. Do you visit them?"

"Twice a year. Phin takes us to live with him, and when we insist, he drops us off at Anna's. Then, we come back here, off to do our respective jobs."

I remain quiet the rest of the ride, thinking about his family. How he must miss his children and grandchild. Poor Franco.

We finally reach the airport and I thank Franco. He offers to carry my bag, but I refuse.

The security checks pass by swiftly and I board the jet, to find Anthony already seated there. I'm impressed by the simple, yet luxurious interior of the jet. It's all plush leather seats, glossy wood veneers and a beige silk carpet lining the surface.

I can either sit beside him or across from him. I don't know him well enough to sit beside him, so I choose to sit opposite to him. He's on his laptop anyway.

"Good morning Mr. Crosswalk."

He gives me a nod in acknowledgement. One would think he would tell me to stop calling him Mr. Crosswalk by now.

He hides a cough behind his palm.

"Call me Anthony."

I hide my face behind my hands.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to say that aloud."

"But you did." He removes the reading glasses perched on his nose and stares at me. I try to stay still, but I end up shifting uncomfortably.

The stewardess comes just in time. A blonde bombshell.

"Would you like anything miss?" Her voice is a bit sad and her smile seems forced.

"Do you have salted peanuts?"

"We sure do." She removes a bag of peanuts and hands them to me.

"Do you have Oreos? Because you look as delicious as an Oreo. Now all you need is some cream filling." I say in a deep voice and wiggle my brows at her.

She ends up laughing and her eyes crinkle at the corners, unlike before.

She asks Anthony if he wants anything and he just gets a water. I toss some peanuts into my mouth and take out my laptop.

"Thank you for letting me fly with you Mr. Crosswalk."

He doesn't look up at me as he says,

"You wanted to call me by my first name, yes? So, why the formality now?"

I laugh nervously.

"Well, it'll take some getting used to."

"I am going to be your future father-in-law. Get used to it faster." Rude.

"But Sebastian doesn't even want to get married to me."

"What Sebastian wants doesn't matter. He doesn't know what's best for him. You both are to be married. That's final."

I want to argue on that, but I stop myself. Whatever I say to him isn't going to change his mind.

We remain quiet for the remainder of the flight, with him doing his work and me doing mine.

We soon land and I have to practically run to catch up with his long strides.

He gets into a black SUV and I climb in after him.

The driver starts driving without Anthony needing to tell him the address.

The ride is spent in uncomfortable silence. I try to make small talk.

"So Sebastian..."

"Is on a business trip to London."

I wonder if he'll be on a business trip to Ibiza or Paris or Italy on the day of our wedding.

The car stops in front of the iron gates of my parents' home. A minute later, the gates open and I stare at the fresh green grass on either side of the driveway. Surprisingly, my father stands in front of the house when we get out of the car. He's dressed surprisingly casual, in a black Polo shirt and white shorts.

"Anthony, so nice to see you in the flesh." They shake hands while I watch in the sidelines.

"Charlotte. How have you been?" He pats my hair.

"Never better." I give him a small smile.

"Where's Mom?" I ask.

"She's been waiting for you guys all day. We're sad that Sebastian couldn't make it, but we're glad you did. Come on, let's go out into the patio. Elise is waiting there."

I place my bag against the banister on the way as we go out into the patio.

I hug my Mom as soon as I see her. Elegant as always. Brown hair in a straight Bob, white pearls around her neck, and a demure green dress covering her body.

"Anthony, a pleasure to meet you."

"Likewise Mrs. Daymond." He plants a small kiss on the back of my mother's hand, which causes her to blush.

"Elise." She corrects him.

"Come. Let's have lunch."

We all sit at the table. My parents beside each other and me, opposite to Mom with Anthony opposite to Dad.

Garlic bread, chips and guacamole, stuffed mushrooms, beef stroganoff, and cottage pie with vegetables, no doubt for me, as I don't eat red meat, creamy Mac and cheese, honey glazed pork chops and an apple pie for desert.

I tuck a handkerchief into the collar of my shirt and start eating.

Charlotte:

Anthony Crosswalk is meticulous in everything he does. From what he eats, to the way he chews, to choosing a wife for his son.

I watch him cut his food into neat little cubes. As I chew my own food, I count the number of times he chews the food. I'm not surprised to count thirty two. Of course he chews his food thirty two times.

"Charlotte, how's business going?" My father snaps me out of my counting.

"Business is going great, father." I put some roasted carrots into my mouth, hoping he doesn't berate me.

"She doesn't want my diamond business, Anthony. Can you believe that? My billion dollar business."

"Charles..." My mother tries to stop him.

"No, Elise. She has everything handed to her on a silver plate, and yet she just doesn't want it. She goes and opens a boutique, something that's only good as a hobby."

I put some mashed potatoes in my mouth and find it hard to swallow. Well, there goes my appetite. I sip some water and remove the handkerchief from my collar, wiping my mouth with it.

"Well, I've never had that problem with Sebastian. He was eager to take over the company from day one. Sometimes, they rebel just for the fun of it. For attention."

A spark of anger shoots down my spine, before I snuff it out. How can a man who doesn't understand his own son understand a complete stranger?

I stay silent. As I always do. My mother looks at me with the same sympathy in her eyes as she always does. My father levels me with a hard look, as usual. The only new addition here is Anthony Crosswalk. Who looks at me like I'm way beneath him. But, at the end of the day, it doesn't matter what he thinks about me, because it's not him I'm marrying, it's his son, who, from what I've seen, does not like his father.

"Where's Warren?" I ask my mother, referring to the boy who used to landscape our garden, AKA my childhood crush.

"You don't know?"

"Know what?"

"Warren doesn't work here anymore. Do you know Accelerate?"

"Those gyms?"

"Yes dear. Well he's the one who owns them."

I gasp. "Seriously?"

She smiles at me and nods. She'd found out about my crush in its early stages. God knows how.

"He used to be our landscaper." My father fills in the blanks for Anthony.

"How does he concern you?" Anthony asks me and I'm stupefied by his audacity.

"He's my friend."

When it's time for the Apple Pie, I know I don't want a piece, so I excuse myself from the table and go inside, up to my old room.

Everything is still the same. It looked uninhabited before and it looks uninhabited now.

Gold and white accents, with a queen sized bed on a raised platform in the center of the room. Lustrous gold curtains hang in front of the windows. Often, the room made me sick. The gold was too much for my eyes. I'd often change rooms when I was a kid, to one with purple accents instead.

Looking at the room still makes me feel sick, so I go to the purple room, which feels like me. There's even a fireplace in this room. It was one of my favorite things about it.

The mantel is still lined with my knick-knacks. The night dresser still has my floating moon lamp and my mini Big Ben clock. I would have expected my father to throw all this out, but perhaps he hasn't even been here to notice.

I toss myself on the bed, reveling in the amazing feel and close my eyes.

I might have fallen asleep because when I open my eyes, it's thirty minutes later. I get up and go into the attached bathroom to wash my face. I dry it with one of the hand towels and go downstairs to find everyone in the family room.

"Where have you been dear?" My mom asks me.

"Just took a little nap. What did I miss?"

"Nothing yet. We're just about to discuss the dates."

The thought makes me go pale. I always knew my father would arrange my marriage to someone of his choice. Perhaps, that's the reason why I've never bothered giving any importance to my love life. Still, it's intimidating to marry a complete stranger.

"We'll hold the engagement next week. The wedding will be within the next two months."

The words make me queasy and I fall into a loveseat.

"No. No. No." I keep chanting. My nerves are all over the place and my stomach wants to turn in itself.

Everyone looks at me strangely. Me! When they're the ones who have gone completely insane.

Anthony crosses his arms over his chest.

"I don't see a problem here."

"I can't plan a wedding in two months."

"You don't need to. All you have to do is pick out a dress. I'll take care of the rest."

"But, I'm not ready." I say this on a whisper.

"For what?" He asks me.

"To get married to Sebastian."

"What is it that scares you so much?"

I think about it.

"For sharing my life with him."

"You don't have to do anything you don't want to. How is it so different from living by yourself? The only difference being, you'll have company. You'll even love our house. You can go to your boutique as you wish. We even have a cook, Julia who prepares all the meals. I'm not even home most of the time, so you won't have to worry about that. If you have any problem, you can always tell me or Sebastian. We can even get you your own driver."

I digest all his words and surprisingly, they make me feel much better. Everything he said sounds appealing, and Anthony Crosswalk seems like a man who keeps his word.

I nod, even though I'm internally searching for any holes in his words. It sounds easy enough, but I'm still a little nervous.

"Now that that's settled, I'll have to get going now. Charlotte, will you be joining me?"

"Yes. I'll be right back."

I change into a pair of jeans and a T-shirt, and say my goodbyes to my parents.