Chapter 3

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.