Suit & Tie

Chapter 38 - Charity event & window writing

"What is this?" I hissed. "A fucking red carpet? I thought this was a charity event?"

Shawn barely glanced at me. "It's a charity event. Magazines need pictures."

"I'm really too awkward for this."

"Yes," He chuckled as he helped me out of the car, "but that is exactly why you are not required to answer any questions, Norah." As soon as the magazine photographers and news stations spotted Shawn , they turned towards him and began flashing pictures and begging for his attention. He kept his lips in a straight line and his hand wrapped around mine as he walked by them. I gripped his hand desperately, and tried to hide the blush that was definitely creeping over my cheeks at the thought of all the pictures that would be on the internet soon. Before we reached the entrance of the hotel that was the venue, Shawn stopped to talk to a tiny man with a bird-like nose. The man fumbled for his recorder under Shawn gaze.

"Oh, Mr. Mendes , uhm, Evan from The Wall Street Journal. I just have a few questions for you."

"And I obviously am going to answer them," Shawn said with a scowl.

"Right, yes of course," He stuttered. "How do you feel about being called the next Mark Cuban ?"

Shawn groaned and pulled me closer to his side. "Ridiculous. I would never have a television show. Next."

"Is it true you plan on expanding to Toronto , then hopefully across Canada ?"

"No comment."

With one last hard glare, Shawn tugged me down a little bit further to a women with bright green eyes , wearing a dark green Chanel dress and holding out a recorder for him to speak into. Her eyes widened in shock when she realised that he was actually stopping in front of her.

"Karen for City Socialite Magazine," She said excitedly.

"And?"

I had to press my cheek against his shoulder to hide the smile that was threatening to pull across my face at the flustered women. As much as I felt bad for her, because I knew exactly what it was like under Shawn's glare, it was almost comical to watch the effect he had on every single person. It was also relieving to realize that I wasn't the only one.

"Uhm, who are you wearing?" She finally managed. "Armani." Without even thinking, I let out a playful scoff and nudged Shawn .

"That is not Armani, it's Yves Saint Laurent."

It was then that the reporter seemed to notice the brunette whose hand was intertwined with Shawn's . Her botoxed lips parted in shock as she cocked her head to the side and did a much to obvious, judgemental once over, taking in every last frazzled inch of me.

"You're right," She grinned. "And you must be Shawn's girlfriend?"

Before I could begin to spit out my very practiced denials, the CEO let out a low growl and tugged me away from the inquisitive women, and into the lavish lobby of the hotel. There were signs everywhere for Comic Relief, a charity organisation. Following the signs, we walked to the exquisitely decorated banquet hall where the dinner and auction was taking place. Every single person we passed first glanced to our intertwined hands before dropping their gaze to the ground to avoid Shawn's .

"Come," He mumbled, pulling me through the crowded room to a table front and center, where we sat down next to important looking people in nice suits. Everyone at the table stood to greet him, offering him a hand before smiling at me and introducing themselves. Smiling, I shook hands with all the people around the table, each of whom had a fancy title to go along with their name as if to show how much better they were than me. I sat down rather ungracefully in the chair next to Shawn , only relaxing slightly when his hand came to rest right above my knee.