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Chapter 7 Tbb

  • Shawn's POV
  • Shawn couldn't believe his life.
  • He was supposed to apologize to his so-called future wife, but here he was waiting for her to get off from fucking highschool. If it were any other person, he could have just invited them out to a business lunch to ensure that there wouldn't be any irrational behavior on their part. Social climbers were always so conscious of maintaining a good reputation, she wouldn't want to cause any problems for herself by making a scene. He could also use his lunch hour, and therefore make sure he didn't waste any of the time he needed to be productive on less important matters than soothing the pride of a spoiled brat.
  • But no, she had to be a fucking highschooler, and now he was going to have to take out of his personal time to travel to her home in the evening.
  • "Fuck," he said out loud, into the silence of his office. He'd already had plans.
  • Well, guess Rachel would have to do without him today.
  • As if she had heard him think her name, his personal phone rang, and Rachel's name appeared on the screen.
  • Rachel Sparks was Shawn's childhood friends, and one of the few people Shawn could tolerate. Not that she wasn't annoying sometimes, but ov
  • "Hi, Shawn," she said excitedly when he picked, "I was just thinking, how about we change our location for today's dinner. There's a new Italian restaurant called D'amor that recently opened up on—"
  • Shawn sighed, cutting her off. "I'm sorry, Rachel, but I don't think I can make it today."
  • Rachel paused slightly, and when she spoke again, her voice was slightly less excited though she tried to hide it. "Really?" she asked, "Why not?"
  • "Other plans," Shawn simply said. They were friends, but that didn't mean she was entitled to know all his plans.
  • "Other plans like…?"
  • Shawn sighed again. "Dinner."
  • "Oh?" she asked, her voice going high-pitched with interest. "Business dinner?" she asked, trying to act coy even though Shawn knew she was positively dying to know.
  • He chuckled lightly to himself before replying. "No, personal. And don't bother asking, because that's all you're getting."
  • Rachel laughed as if the sentence was the funniest thing in the world. "Well, alright then. Keep your secrets."
  • "Thanks, I will."
  • The call beeped off, and Shawn was left alone in his office again with only the sounds of his feet tapping on the floor. There was still another call he had to make.
  • He pressed a button on his table, beeping the intercom connecting him to his secretary, Leslie.
  • "Leslie," he said, "Call Mr. Dion."
  • Rachel's POV
  • Rachel hung up the call with Shawn, and stared across the room from the private booth she was at.
  • She had come to D'amor because she'd heard that it had a good romantic atmosphere and had wanted to see if it would be good enough to take Shawn to for their scheduled dinner later in the evening. Once she'd entered, she had been so excited at how great everything looked that she immediately called Shawn.
  • Of course, she hadn't told him that it was going to be any romantic evening of any sort, but she had hoped that if she began to do little things like this with him, then gradually, in time, he might begin to see her in a more romantic light.
  • The metal straw in her hand bent in two, and she looked down at it, surprised. She hadn't realized that she'd been pressing on it that hard.
  • Anyway, her plans were ruined now. What the hell?
  • She knew Shawn wasn't too particularly enthusiastic about their dinners, but still he hadn't ever cancelled before. There was something very suspicious about all this, especially since he had refused to tell her about it, and Rachel was determined to find out.
  • She scrolled down her contact list until she found the name she was looking for – Max. She hit dial and waited for him to pick, and when he did there were strange sounds coming from the other side of the phone. Rachel's squeezed her nose in disgust when she identified them.
  • A girl was moaning in the background, fake high-pitched noises accompanied by occasional grunts that were sure to be Max. That disgusting son of a bitch.
  • "Miss?" his slimy voice came over the phone. "A little… hah… a little busy, if ya don't mind. How may I help you?"
  • "Max, you pig!" Rachel hissed venomously, outraged, "Can't you take care of your… personal business some other time?!"
  • Max chuckled, the girl still fakely moaning as loud as ever. "Hey, you're the one who barged into someone's private time, not me. But sure. Never say I don't do anything for ya, toots."
  • Rachel massaged the space between her two eyebrows in frustration, but dutifully waited while she listened to Max dismiss whatever prostitute he had serving him at the time. Rachel was almost happy for the girl. She couldn't imagine anyone willingly touching that man, the way he sometimes made her skin crawl. She would have gotten rid of him a long time ago, if not that he already knew too much about her.
  • When he came back to the phone, Rachel finally gave him her message.
  • "I need you to do the usual," she said in a hushed voice, and Max groaned.
  • "Miss, no offence," he complained, "But that guy is very boring. Everytime you have me follow him, it's always the same old shit. He only works, I told you. Bastard don't even fuck or nothing."
  • Rachel rolled her eyes. "I pay you to do as I say, not to share your stupid opinions," she spat. " And besides, I have a suspicious feeling that today will be different."
  • Max wasn't convinced, but still he was being paid so he sucked it up and agreed. "Sure, miss," he grumbled, "But don't say I didn't warn ya."
  • "If you want more money to fuck whores, you'll keep your warnings to yourself!" Rachel spat.
  • "Alright, Alright! Sheesh, always so touchy," Max said, then he was ending the call, and Rachel seethed at her phone. The man was so annoying, but at least he was thorough and discreet. She had employed his services for years now, and Shawn, who was normally very perceptive, still hadn't found out that Rachel regularly had him tailed.
  • She wasn't doing it because she was a bad person, she just cared about him and wanted to know what he was up to when he was keeping things from her. But he wouldn't understand, so she had to keep it from him.
  • It was all because she loved him.
  • Shawn's POV
  • Shawn held two packages in hand as he walked up to the doors of the Dion mansion. He had sent his secretary out to get a gift for the young Miss Dion. Afterall, Leslie was young, and he reasoned that since the two were closer in age, she would know exactly what Tiffany would want. He hadn't looked inside, though, and didn't plan to, so he didn't know what was inside. To be honest, he didn't care much either.
  • The other package was for Mr. Dion. Shawn had picked it out himself, but when he'd called the msn, he had informed Shawn that unfortunately he would still be at work by the time Shawn got to his home. However, he'd promised Shawn that Tiffany would be around, cheerfully as if he though Shawn was really so excited to see her. Well, too bad, he was only doing this to get his chairman position.
  • The door swung open for him before he reached it, and there was a smartly-dressed butler waiting for him behind it.
  • Shawn tried to suppress an eye roll. Of course they had a butler. The little Miss Dion had probably never had to lift a single finger for herself all her life. She probably didn't even know how to boil water.
  • "Welcome," The aged butler said, bowing to Shawn in respect. Shawn shifted uncomfortably, disliking the fact that someone older than him was bowing to him. Was this what the Dions taught their staff to do?
  • Shawn looked around the lavishly furnished living room and noted with disapproval that Tiffany wasn't sitting there to receive him, even though surely she must have known he was coming. Was she just acting upset to get his attention, or was that just how she usually treated guests?
  • "Thank you," he said curtly, eager to get the old man to stand upright again, "Please inform your young Miss that I'm here to see her."
  • The butler excused himself after directing Shawn to a seat in the living room, and offering him refreshments, which he refused.
  • Shawn checked his watch, then deciding to not stay for more than forty minutes, reclined into the chair and waited.