Chapter 4.

Shawn's POV

Shawn sat at the minibar in his penthouse, tipping whiskey from a decanter into his glass, swirling it around to let it breathe, then sipping gradually. His mind was still reeling from the night's events.

It wasn't like he had had any high expectations for the night, no. On the contrary, he had expected to go there, meet whatever shameless social climber his dad planned for him, politely reject her, and leave. But what he hadn't prepared for was how infuriating and bratty the woman would actually be. And woman? He didn't know if 'woman' was even the right word. More like 'girl'.

Shawn took another sip in frustration. The worst part is he didn't even know why he was so angry. She was young, yes, but younger had gone after him before. There was just something about the hard set of her chin, and the look in her eyes that just seemed to spark something in him. He couldn't read her, and he didn't like people he couldn't read. It was just better to stay away from her from now on.

He was just thinking this when the intercom from the reception buzzed, and the voice of the receptionist came across.

"Sir?" he said, "Sir, Mr. Gold is here to see you. He's already on his way up, I couldn't stop him. I'm sorry, sir."

Shawn sighed in annoyance. That annoying old man. What did he want now? He closed the decanter and set away his glass, only managing to close the cabinet before his father was being deposited by the private elevator into his living room. Shawn almost regretted giving him the codes.

His father glanced at him, then wordlessly turned and deposited himself on a chair, crossing his legs. Then, he smiled at Shawn.

"Are you proud of your little display earlier?" He asked him, deceptively calm. "Strutting around the place like a scornful princess?"

Shawn clenched his jaw in annoyance. He knew his father was just saying things to taunt him, and goad him into being angry. But once he got angry, he had already lost. "Are you proud of your little lie?" he asked instead.

"No lie," said his father unrepentantly, "Just a little omission."

"I'm not getting married to a highschooler."

"You're lucky, then, if you were listening to her at all you'd know that she was in her final year of school. But of course, you were too busy thinking up what scene to make next."

Shawn was outraged at this. "If you didn't want me to make a scene, you could have informed me before hand! Is that too much to ask, dad?"

His dad got up now to match him inch for inch. The man had once been a very tall man, afterall, even though he was now droooed with age. But even if he weren't, Shawn prided himself in that he still had a good few inches on his old man.

"We both know it would have made no difference," his father said. "You will marry that girl, Shawn. And that's that."

Shawn's blood boiled. Part of him had always seen this coming, so why was he fighting it so hard now? It wasn't like he himself had any special plans for marriage, or that he had any particular person in mind. He knew, too, that if he did, his father wouldn't stand between him and his love. But he didn't, and hadn't really since he was young, to the point of rumors of him being gay even spreading. All he'd cared about was his business, and work, and so he'd never particularly balked at the idea of one day getting married to fulfil that very purpose. Just a polite marriage that will in on itself be a business deal, and a partner that fully understand that Shawn wouldn't love her, and ideally won't love him in turn. Possibly have a few heirs to continue the family line. That was his ideal picture of marriage. But he didn't see exactly what he stood to gain from this deal.

Their companies would merge, yes, and Gold Enterprises would get a new wine subsidiary which would be beneficial to them of course. But he personally, would still come out the loser in all this.

"What's in it for me?'' Shawn suddenly asked his dad. "I'll marry her, if that's what you want, but what do I get from this?" He knew from the look in his father's eyes that he understood that Shawn was talking about personal gain, and not just that of the company.

Shawn's dad said nothing.

The windows in Shawn's penthouse apartment living room were very wide. Almost floor to ceiling. It had a very nice view of Vancouver, and in the evening the artificial lights from the building and street lights lent it a lovely glow. The view was one of the reasons Shawn had chosen this particular place.

His father moved towards this very window and stood against it, sillhoutted by the light outside and the dark interior.

"I've been the chairman of G.E for over fourty years now," he began quietly, and Shawn wondered where the hell he was going with this. "I started this company, Shawn, but I wouldn't have been able to do it without your mother by my side. She was a very big help to me, even in times when I thought I might just give up on it all."

Shawn shifted his weight uncomfortably from one foot to another. "I know, I've heard this all before. What's the–"

"The point," his dad broke in, cutting him off, "is that I think it is finally time for me to retire." He turned around to look at Shawn, expecting his reply, but Shawn only stood there, shocked. Could his father really mean what Shawn thought he meant.

When he saw that Shawn didn't mean to speak, he continued. "I'd like you to take over for me, as my son. That is, if you're interested."      

"I…" Shawn was suspicious. His dad knew how much he had coveted that post for years.                            "Of course I'm interested.''

"If you want it, I need to know that you're stable first." His father moved towards him, so they were now standing toe-to-toe with each other. "You will marry that girl. She's well-mannered, respectable, and intelligent. A woman of substance is greater than any treasure."

Shawn chuckled. "Are you quoting the bible?"

"It's a good book, full of wisdom."

Shawn stayed silent, considering. Of course Shawn was always going to be the president. He had proved himself beyond doubt these past few years, being featured both in twenty under twenty magazines, and in his twenties, thirty under thirty. He was even currently the third youngest most successful director in the whole country. All in all, giving the position to someone else would be the most stupid decision the old man could make. But Shawn knew his father. If he refused now, who knew when next he would get the chance. The man might even decide to stay for twenty more years just to spite him.

It seemed by all indication that Shawn had lost this match. His father's eyes twinkled with mischief. He knew he had already won.

"Fine,'' said Shawn. "I'll do it. I'll marry her."

He was expecting his father to be happy at the news, probably even congratulate him. But he just said, "Well, that's good and fine for you, but will she marry you?"

Shawn frowned. What did that mean. She had come because she wanted to marry him, did she not? Girls like her always jumped at the chance to get into his bed for even a single night, talk less of getting married.

"Of course she would," he said. "That's not a problem."

"Don't be so sure," his father said cryptically. "You clearly know nothing about women. They are prideful creatures, and no woman likes being scorned."

"So?" Shawn shrugged. Throw a little money at them and they would be fine, was it not? "That's noty problem."

"So. You are going to go apologise to her, and beg her to take you back."

"I won't–"

"You will," his father said firmly, mercilessly cutting him off, already walking towards the door, "You know what's on the line if you don't." And with that, he walked out, leaving Shawn standing alone in his apartment, fully annoyed.

He ran his hands through his black locks in frustration and sighed.

Well, he guessed he had no choice but to apologize to Miss Tiffany Dion. He hoped he wouldn't regret his choice.