Chapter 6

The time was 2:30pm. Joan shut down her laptop, arranged the files neatly and cleared up the desk. The afternoon had to be spent preparing. 

First, a body massage at the spa, then to the boutique to get a dress for her dinner date. 

She was about to lock the office when the secretary came running, phone in hand like she'd just received an urgent call. 

“Mr. Kelvin called,” she said, a little breathless. “He said he needs to have an urgent meeting with you today, ma’am.” 

“The client we just closed the 10million deal with?”

“Yes, ma’am.” 

Joan sighed, glanced at her wristwatch again and shook her head. “I have to be somewhere important,” she said. Without another word, she walked away, leaving the secretary to watch her in shock. 

‘If Keon can leave his company to be with a woman, there's nothing wrong with going to enjoy myself too.’ 

The next three hours were spent at the spa, then at the boutique where she picked out a simple, beautiful purple ankle-length gown with a slit that stopped just above the knee. After that, she went to the makeup artist to get her face done.

She wasn't even done with her makeup when an unknown number texted.

It was Tristan.

“Dinner at Blake's restaurant. Drop your address so my chauffeur can come pick you up.” 

She didn't want him to know Keon’s house. And she hadn't fully settled in her new house yet. So she replied back. “Thanks, I’ll find my way there.” 

Feeling like her camry didn't match her new status anymore, she ordered a ride instead. 

Tristan’s bodyguards were stationed firmly at the entrance, obviously waiting for her. The moment her car pulled up, one of them stepped forward, saw Joan and opened the car door for her. 

Joan’s heart raced at that point, but she steadied it with a smile. 

George moved forward to her, face still, not smiling. “Welcome Ms. Langley. My master is waiting for you.” 

Joan nodded and followed, her heels clicking softly. 

The dining room was almost empty. There were no other guests, just two waiters standing against the far wall, and one round table in the center with two chairs. 

Her heart raced when she saw Tristan already seated, his head down, scrolling his phone.

The brown tailored suit fit his shoulders perfectly. From twelve steps away, Joan could see how breathtaking he looked. 

She stopped before him and breathed in. “I’m sorry for keeping you waiting. My ride was delayed.” 

Tristan didn't answer right away. Two seconds passed, then he set his phone aside and looked up. “That was why I wanted to send my chauffeur,” he said coldly.

His eyes washed over Joan down to her toes, then back up. Joan felt her cheeks go red. 

The pictures of him she had seen didn't do justice to his fairness. His beard was neatly trimmed, his jaw sharp. Even with the frown on his face, his handsomeness was striking. 

“You look younger than I thought. How old are you, Joan?” 

His question jerked her back. She smiled quickly to hide her embarrassment. “I'm 26,” she said, gently pulling the chair back and sitting down. 

Tristan stared at her for a moment, expression unreadable, before saying, “you agreed to the marriage?”

Joan exhaled. “Yes.” She swallowed hard, then asked. “Why do you want me?” 

Tristan clicked his tongue, sat up straighter, tapped one finger on the table, then lifted a hand and signalled to his bodyguard across the room. That man came running immediately. 

“Call the waiter.” 

He didn't answer Joan's question. And Joan also didn't ask again. She just sat silent, throat burning with rage. ‘So much arrogance’ she thought, the corner of her mouth twitching into a smirk. 

The waiter came over and with his head lowered, he gave them the menus. Tristan placed his order of pan-seared salmon and vegetables. Joan went for only water.

Tristan gave her a side glance at that but said nothing. 

“You didn't answer my question,” she finally said. 

Tristan rolled his eyes, swirling his glass of wine. “You are the only daughter of the Langleys.” He said, then took a sip of his wine. 

Joan nodded twice, her gaze calculating. As if he could read her mind, Tristan let out a cold laugh. 

“Not because of your billions. I'm of age to get married. My parents want it,” his voice completely devoid of emotions. 

“So, you're being forced to marry me, right?” Joan said, her confidence grew with each word. 

Tristan's cold glare cut into her before he gave a single nod. “If you call it that.” 

“Anyways,” Joan stated. “I need to protect my inheritance. Help my father’s legacy from falling apart. So I need to marry you.” 

“I know,” his tone was flat.

He cut a piece of salmon, not looking at her. Before putting it in his mouth, he stated, “My family is traditional. There will be a wedding. An elaborate one at that. I'll tell you the date when I decide.” 

He ate the piece slowly, while Joan remained watching in silence.

He took a sip of wine, then looked Joan directly in the eyes. “If you need anything before then, contact me.”

Joan gave a small nod. Even though he seemed cold, unromantic.... he was going to protect her. That was the most important thing to Joan.

She watched him push the plate away half-finished, then stand.

“My driver will take you home,” he said, pushing the chair backward. “No refusal this time.”

His frown deepened. “I  want a woman who listens, and not the one going against my order.” 

It was nice meeting you, Joan.” He said it without looking at her, and walked away. 

Joan forced a small smile and stood. A bodyguard escorted her out. Getting outside, Tristan's car was already gone. 

She didn't want his anger, at least not this early. So, she got into the already waiting car, and gave the driver the address to her new house.

Once he dropped her there, she’d book a ride to Keon's house.