Chapter 3.

Shawn's POV

Shawn Gold was a man who liked to keep lists, and right now he was keeping one on Tiffany Dion. Here were the things he'd discovered about her since meeting her.

1. She seemed to have no respect for business partners or other partners, seeing as she'd shown up late and held up every other person at their meeting.

2. She was a shallow girl who only cared about looks, but didn't care enough to prepare properly before leaving her home, evidenced by the smudges of makeup he could see on her fingers.

3. She had evidently kept them all waiting so that she could apply makeup in the bathroom, which showed a frank lack of respect.

4. She apparently thought it was very funny to flaunt one's allergies at them upon a first meeting, seeing as she didn't hesitate to order seafood even though she must know Shawn was allergic.

He liked to divide his lists into pros and cons afterwards, but it seemed that everything on his list was a con. She was a child, crass and uncouth, stuck up and rude and took other people's health as a joke. A rich socialite who had probably grown up on daddy's money, and had never known a day of work in her life. And now, she was probably going to be jumping at the opportunity to marry rich as well, even though there was nothing of substance she could possibly contribute to her husband.

Shawn allowed his eyes to rove over her, and decided to add one more item to his list.

5. She was beautiful.

It seemed his father knew his type, afterall. She was slim, not too much to appear sickly, but somewhere in the balance between curvy and thin. Her fair skin looked well cared-for, as if it would be supple to the touch, and the shade of green she'd chosen perfectly complemented her skin tone.

But still, Shawn had seen a lot of beautiful people in his life. Gold Enterprises had an Entertainment Industry subsidiary, and since his teenage years he had found many aspiring models, actresses and singers alike throwing themselves at him in the hopes that he would help them secure a spot their talent, or the lack thereof, wouldn't have gotten them otherwise. He'd since developed a distate for such beings, and had also gained the strong mentality that looks weren't everything. In fact, hed found that people who thought they had the looks often saw it fit to put much investment in little else. She may be pretty, but Shawn needed his wife to be more than that.

Throughout the dinner, he watched her very closely, maintaining a stony exterior so as not to encourage ny delusions she may be having.

He had to admit that she at least sounded intelligent. The questions she asked were thoughtful and precise, but then again her father was a businessman and could have told her what to say. She addressed all her questions to her father and his, and hadn't tried to make eye contact with him since before they'd ordered their food. Was that a tactic? Acting uninterested to pique one's interest?

Shawn scoffed internally. He'd seen that before, and it wouldn't work on him.

"So, miss Dion," Shawn's dad was saying, shifting their conversation from business to more personal matters, "How's school?"

Tiffany smiled pleasantly, no doubt just an act. "It's fine, sir, thank you."

"I heard you were on the school student body committee?"

What? Shawn thought, sitting up at once. The what committee?

"I am," Tiffany said again in her soft voice, "Though not for long. I'm graduating this year, afterall."

Fuck. Me. Thought Shawn. She's still in fucking highschool. He couldn't believe it.

"I'm sorry?" Shawn said, dropping his fork. Everyone at the table fell silent and looked at him. Tiffany's brow went up. "Did you say you were still in high school?" He laughed. What the fuck was his father playing at?! A bloody highschooler? "You can't be serious." This last part was directed at his father, but the man pretended as if he didn't know what was happening. He only sipped his soup nonchalantly, making Shawn's anger flare up even higher.

It was Tiffany who answered him, instead. Her voice had taken on a different, harder tone, momentarily surprising him, and she looked him straight in the eye and said, "So what if I am?" Daring him to judge.

"For fucks' sake, you're still a child!" Shawn hissed, angry at everyone seated at the table. He made sure not to raise his voice enough that the people seated at neighbouring tables would hear.

Tiffany, however, seemed to have no such qualms and slammed her fork down loudly on the table. The plates and glasses clattered. "I am not a child, for your information," she said, "I am nineteen years old, Mr. Gold. That is adulthood by many laws, including ours, in case you didn't know."

Shawn scoffed. "Oh please, age has little to do with maturity."

"Clearly," she spat, and they both sat glaring at each other from across the table.

Shawn's father acted as if nothing was happening, but Mr. Dion laughed nervously, looking from Tiffany to Shawn and back to Tiffany.

"Shawn, calm, down," he said, trying to placate the matter. But Shawn was done listening. He had wasted enough time here today, and he was a busy man.

He threw down his napkin and got up. Tiffany frowned at him, and he stared down impassively at her. Hopefully he wouldn't need to see her after today.

"Pardon me," he addressed the table, "But I think I'll take my leave. Mr. Dion, Dad," He nodded briskly at the two men, ignoring the young miss Dion totally, and with that, he strode out of the restaurant without a single glance backwards.

Tiffany's POV

What the fuck had just happened?

Tiffany walked Shawn leave the restaurant, and she was almost glad to see him go, before she remembered why he was important in the first place and the weight of the night's events came crashing down on her.

She looked at her father anxiously, and he looked back at her with worry. Only Mr. Gold seemed to be calm at the table.

"Richard," Tiffany's dad said, frowning at his friend. "You didn't tell him she was still in school?"

Richard Gold grunted in amusement. He waved a hand nonchalantly as if it was no matter. "Don't worry," he said, flagging down the waiter for dessert. "That boy will find any excuse to not do what he doesn't want to do."

"If he doesn't want to–"

"I said don't worry, old friend," Richard said, "I have my ways." He picked up his wine and sipped it as if he had no care in the world.

Tiffany only frowned to herself and said nothing.

Later, after they had eaten dessert, they walked outside and waited for the valet to bring their cars around. Apparently, Shawn had taken a taxi. Tiffany left the two men to their conversation about business while she pondered the night's events.

She knew she had agreed to go through with this, but that was before she had actually met the man. She now realised that all her original impressions of him had been correct. He was every bit as insufferable, arrogant and childish as she had first thought. He was the type of person she would normally give the widest of berths in other circumstances, but unfortunately, they needed him now.

Their cars arrived, and Tiffany and her dad said goodbye to Mr. Gold.

He kissed her hand again as they parted, promising to have a talk with Shawn.

"You're a very lovely lady, Miss Dion," he said, "He would be lucky to have you."

"No, it's me that would be lucky," said Tiffany, even though she didn't really believe it. Richard laughed, showing that he didn't believe it either. Then he said goodbye to her dad and got into the passenger side of his black Chevrolet Volt, and soon Tiffany was left standing with her dad.

They got in their car and drove home, and she was silent for the entire ride, looking out the window the whole time.

When they got home, her father held her back.

"Tiffany, I want you to know that I'm so proud of you," he said, "So proud."

Tears welled up in Tiffany's eyes, but she quickly blinked them away. The night hadn't gone like she'd expected it would, and she felt she just needed to sleep it off. Tomorrow was school, and she would need to focus her energy on that for now.

"Thank you, dad. I appreciate it. Good night."

Her dad hugged her, and kissed her forehead. "Night, Tiff."

Tiffany walked up to her room, while her dad went into his home study to do more work. She switched on the lights, taking off her shoes, then her dress, and taking her hair out from it's bun. She shook it out, letting the thick, blonde curls breathe, and then she got into her night things and climbed into bed, getting out her phone to check her messages.

There were a few from her friend group chat, asking her how the night went, but she didn't have the energy to discuss it now, so she simply closed her phone without replying.

Tomorrow, tomorrow she would deal with all of it.