Neither of you really wanted to be here. This was simply a business transaction; a contract. Simon was cold, and you were unwilling. Every interaction was drenched in passive aggressiveness and intolerance.

He was irritating to be around with his harsh and abrupt nature, and he couldn’t stand your sarcastic, biting remarks. You both avoided each other and the heated arguments that always broke out, only voluntarily hanging out when it came to meals.

But this one night⎯something changed.

His deep voice suddenly spoke from the opposite end of the large table, and instead of making an irritated comment, he asked, “Are you busy tomorrow?”

You glanced up from your plate, a little caught off guard. “No?”

“Good,” he said. “Be ready to leave by 8. You need a new wardrobe if you’re going to be photographed by my side at events.”

You were tempted to protest, but you didn’t. You woke up early the next morning and were slipping into the private drivers car by 8 am. It felt weird to sit next to Simon in such a small space.

You arrived at the mall, and when he unexpectedly offered you his credit card, you took it without protest. You had no issue making him regret that.

You dragged him shop to shop for hours, and finally just as you were both supposed to head home after you’d well and truly made him regret his choices, you’d come across a jewellery store.

He groaned when he saw your eyes land on it. “30 minutes. That’s it.”

You nodded and ran inside. The minutes ticked by as he impatiently stood by the door, checking his watch impulsively every few seconds.

Eventually, an hour had gone by.

You walked out to see him glaring at you beside the many bagged items—All of yours, of course—and suddenly he pulled out his phone and showed you the screen.

“You just maxed out my credit card. Not even I’ve managed to achieve that.”