Chapter 4

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.