A Pearl In The Oyster ☑️

4. La proposition - The Proposal

Florian had a small smile on his lips, and an expression that told me he was quote elated by the show I'd given him earlier. Maybe he liked the fact that I wasn't willing to waste a single second after landing in New York. Maybe he had wanted to see someone put his son in his place, but never actually got the chance before.

"What the fuck did you just say to me? Straighten your tie because.... what?" André Beaumont was floundering with his words, making me want to break into a smile. The sight was just that beautiful.

"Its because I hate to see men wearing crooked ties. It makes them look disheveled and rowdy. Why? Am I wrong?" I asked rhetorically, and it had him fuming with rage.

If things were this intense from the get-go, how were we supposed to last a whole year together?

"Dad, who the fuck is this woman? Can you tell her to shut the fuck up?" He directed his anger towards his dad, who smiled.

"Okay now both of you, calm down and have a seat. This, and the coming year is extremely imperative for Panache, so naturally, we have things to discuss."

He sat down, and André followed reluctantly. "And just what is this elderly woman gonna do? Direct you to run the company?"

His taunts were childish, his tone was immature, and he acted just like an elementary school kid. He reminded me of the children I'd left behind at the orphanage, and I suddenly started to understand Florian more and more. It must have been such a bother living with this manchild all his life.

"Enough of the teasing and insults, son. Listen to me carefully. All your life, I've given you immense freedom. You've always done things your way, which means not doing anything, but still. I let you be, but not anymore. From now on, you will do as I say, without so much as a question. Are we clear?"

"What are you talking about? What do I have to do?" He couldn't help but become curious, and I waited for Florian Beaumont's next words with bated breath.

"You, my son, will soon get married. With this beautiful lady over here, Lizette." Following his words was a pin drop silence. Florian continued,

"Since everything was decided so quickly, I didn't get the time to properly brief you about the plan. Of course, it's not going to be this rough and poorly thought out. The biggest obstacle of this plan is to make the media believe that André Beaumont, you are finally in love. We will have to sugarcoat everything and put on a blindingly beautiful couple on the stand, so that nobody dares to question the authenticity of your relationship.

"In order to do that, I'll give you two a minimum time of one month to get to know each other, and then we'll announce your engagement. The wedding should be in the next four months, which would be three months after the engagement. I...."

At this point, Florian was just blabbering stuff, while André glared at him like he wasn't his father. Both of their behavior were so frustrating, that it angered me greatly. In that moment, I didn't know who was more annoying – a father who flounders in front of his own son, or a son who doesn't respect his father.

"Dad, let's take a deep breath, okay? Just what the fuck are you saying?" His voice raised significantly, and Florian winced.

"Lower your voice, André. I definitely told you that neither am I joking, nor will I listen to you this time. I'm saying that you have no choice but to accept what I'm giving you. And I'm giving you a young beautiful girl in marriage."

At this, André hung his head down low. A deep rumble resonated from his chest, and it was such a novel sound for me. Purely manly, deep and reminding me of beating a metal plate. He laughed, like a maniac, and downed down the glass of whiskey in his hand.

Slamming the glass down on the glass table, he looked up. Seated across from him, my eyes instantly came in contact with his. Grey against baby blue, this staring contest was much more intense than the first one. None of us seemed to concede, and I took this chance to make it absolutely clear, that I wasn't going to be toyed around by him.

I wasn't his father, or anyone he'd played his whole life. I wasn't going to do as he told me, and that must have been delivered correctly, as he started to get angrier by the second.

It was time for the prince's second tantrum.

"Dad, don't you know I don't wanna marry anyone? And her? Do you even know who I am? Who you are? The son of the world famous designer marries this.... this homeless looking old lady, with zero fashion sense? Did you say she was a designer? Have you looked at her grandma clothes? Did she pick tjem from a garbage can or what?"

His monologue didn't affect me as much as it affected Florian, and he thundered at his son. "ANDRÉ!!"

He was about to say something else, but I held him back by his arm. It wasn't the right time to escalate the situation further, and from one point of view, his son's anger was valid.

André stood up, taller than his dad, and straightened his suit. Looming over his dad who was still seated, he said his final parting words,

"Listen to me, dad. I can do anything for you, but not this. Just not this. So, don't ever come to me with girls like her, they disgust me to no end."

Now, I won't say that his last words didn't hurt me, but as I wasn't affected easily, I brushed it off. Maybe those words might come back to haunt me when I was feeling my worst, but right now, they were just empty words said by a stranger.

That was how I needed to take them, to not drive myself insane before I even got started on my mission.

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