The Contract

Chapter 18 : TRISTAN

"So everything's done?" the groom turned sideways, facing the bearded man. The fashion designer nodded in approval. Tristan knew how to piece an outfit all by himself but at the same time he was also open to a second opinion. However the awkward silence between them failed to subside.

Khan's clients were not limited to businessmen or entrepreneurs. His name had also been associated with countless award winning celebrities and models. Hundreds if not thousands of people were dressed by him over the span of his long thirty year old career. Yet, this man in front of him, held a sort of unparalleled glamour he ever witnessed in any human.

His lingering gaze twisted Khan's tongue into a knot. The curve of the lips, the impressive cheekbones, the sharp nose and the piercing jade eyes - everything about him was perfect in its own way. It was a face one could never forget. Something unnatural enough to be devilish. He heard tons of stories about this ash brown haired man. And today he wanted to believe them.

Upon witnessing Tristan's focus on him, he muttered "Yeah, I think so."

A familiar voice soon followed the air. "Good afternoon, sir." Thankfully, Will was back.

The assistant stopped at the door as his jaw went slack. His eyes were about to pop out of the sockets.

"It's okay, right?" Tristan asked.

Will blinked thrice before he stepped into the room. "Yeah, sir, you look so different today, and in a good way."

"Thank you," the young CEO smirked, picking up the cologne on the desk.

Khan understood it was time to leave. Muttering a goodbye he scurried away in relief.

As he splattered the exotic fragrance over himself, Will responded with "Sir, everything's settled. Ma and Pa will arrive in the venue at twelve." He called them so only in presence of the family. The expressionless face of his employer motivated him to continue. "I've spoken to the staff working on Miss Johnson, she and her friends are scheduled to reach by ten-thirty. However, there's something more....."

Tristan stopped fixing his shirt collar. His wardrobe did not contain any wedding exclusive clothes, thereafter, compelling him to manage with whatever he possessed. A white plain shirt from his already collection of twenty. A black half-shirt displaying a rare kind of patchwork in silver fibres. Black trousers had been a usual part of his style. Summing up the look was a dapper blazer of the same colour with a red handkerchief at his breast-pocket. No point in dressing too well for a fake event.

"What's wrong?" he rubbed a finger along his bushy eyebrows.

"Actually, your aunt and brother are back from the trip. Ma and Pa informed them."

Tristan scrunched his nose. "They didn't ask you anything?"

"Not yet. I think they believed Ma and Pa's account, so I guess it's fine."

Silence fell between them for a few seconds.

"Yeah, let's pray for that." He hated lying to the woman who raised him. Yet, since the past three years she changed greatly. While not much was noticeable in the attitude otherwise, she kept on nagging him to settle down with someone to the point of trying to set him up on blind dates. This wedding could be a way to calm her too for the next twelve months.

"Sir, do we prepare to leave?"

Tristan nodded, peeking into his watch. It read - 9:30 a.m. Diana Johnson, you have no idea what's coming for you.

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"They are on the way, sir." Will said, adjusting his own white blazer. They were in one of the ten halls in the venue. Except the staff at his house and Morgan, no other guests had been present.