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.

Anthony:

"I do not want a wedding ceremony. Forcing a woman upon me wasn't enough for you? Putting my signature on the papers is the most I can do. The only wedding I ever wanted was with Adeline, and you so selfishly robbed me of that. Only Adeline will ever be my bride. So, if you think I'd even attend my own wedding, you're poorly mistaken, father dearest."

It takes all my effort to push down my anger. What the fuck is that bitch Adeline doing to him?

"Crosswalk Industries and Daymond Diamonds. Both of them Fortune 500 companies. You expect us not to throw a grand wedding? That's what your future wife does for a living, mind you"

"I don't give a shit about her, least of all, about what she does. You can throw the biggest wedding ceremony you want."

"Thank y-"

"But the groom won't be attending." He finishes with a smirk and leaves.

As soon as he closes the door to my office cabin, I launch a dart. Bulls eye. I continue to throw more darts till I've expelled all my anger.

Just then, my phone rings. I consider smashing it, before thinking better of it.

"Hello?"

"Hi Anthony. It's Charlotte." She speaks in a small voice.

"Yes?"

"I just wanted to let you know that I can plan the wedding myself. It won't be a problem."

I rub my eyebrows, feeling a headache start to form.

"Sebastian doesn't want a wedding ceremony."

There's silence on the other end.

"What...is he expecting to do then?"

"He just wants to sign the papers."

She must be sad. A wedding is every girl's childhood dream. Now, she won't be able to have it. Not my problem. But what is going to be my problem is, explaining to her parents why there won't be a grand wedding.

"Father isn't going to like that." She points out the obvious.

"Thank you for pointing out the obvious Charlotte. I appreciate it."

There's a faint sigh on the other end. Did I not hang up? I try to do just that before she speaks again.

"Perhaps this is why I was meant to be a wedding planner. To give other brides the picture perfect wedding that I'll never be able to have."

I don't know what to say to that.

"Perhaps." I hang up before she can say anything else.

Now, to deal with Charles Daymond. I decide to FaceTime him.

"Charles. Good afternoon. I hope you're doing well."

"Very well in fact. To what do I owe the pleasure of getting a video call from Anthony Crosswalk himself."

"It's about the wedding. There won't be a ceremony." I decide to take the blunt approach. I was never one to beat around the bush. And, when push comes to shove, Crosswalk Industries is much bigger than Daymond Diamonds. Nonetheless, the union would be extremely beneficial.

He swings his club far back and hits the ball, sending it flying high into the air.

"Anthony, you just told me something I would have preferred not to hear. I have, but only one child. A daughter. I'm sure you understand, what with Sebastian being your only offspring. He wasn't able to make it to lunch either, last weekend. I hope there's no trouble?"

Yes, there is trouble. My son is fixated on a woman who tries to get into my pants every fucking chance she gets, and I don't tell my son, because somehow, he's head over heels in love with the whore. I only remain silent, for the sole purpose of not breaking his heart.

I choose not to use such crass language with Charles though.

"There is no trouble Charles. It's just that Sebastian hates weddings. Seeing as how things are between me and his mother, he doesn't believe in throwing grand weddings."

My words hit their mark, even if they aren't true. A flash of sympathy sparks in his eyes.

"I do understand that. But, Charlotte has always dreamt of a grand wedding, one that she, herself wants to plan."

"She's okay with it."

At this, his mouth opens.

"She was okay with it?"

I nod and a sad smile flits across his lips.

"Perhaps it's because she does not love the boy. Maybe, it's the reason why she doesn't care."

"Perhaps." I end the call with him the same way I ended it with his daughter.

______________________________________

Sebastian:

"When are you to marry Lance, Addy?"

Her head rests on my naked chest as she scrolls through her phone.

"Izzy just can't get rid of that fat, can she?"

I gently pry her phone out of her hands and ask her again. She pouts and says,

"The fifteenth of June. I told Daddy to make the wedding big."

"You're going to have a wedding ceremony?" The thought is disturbing and only serves to spark fury within me.

"Yes Seb. A wedding is every girl's childhood dream. If he can't give me the groom I want, the least he can do is throw me the wedding that I want."

I try to rationalize my thoughts. It's not her fault. She wants a wedding? She can have one. It's not like she's asking me not to have a wedding, so of course, I can't ask the same of her. It would only end in one of the priceless vases crashing against the floor.

I stare at her beautiful face and kiss her forehead, running my hands through her shiny blonde hair, the hair that I love so much.

My hands travel further down, down, down to her ass.

"Sebastian, you were at it just a few minutes ago." She whines and I smirk.

"Is that a complaint I hear?" I'm not hard...yet, so she's good...for now.

"You know it's not."

She grabs my dick and tugs, giving me a semi.

"Ok, now you're asking for it."

"Of course I am. It belongs to me, doesn't it?"

I smile down at her and plant a kiss on her lips.

"Damn straight it does."

She sighs. "Who knows? You may give it to your future wife."

The words make me scoff in disgust.

"Never. That bitch is getting nothing from me. She'll wish she never married me."