the biggest of thank you's to everyshadedsilver who beta read this for me.

Summary

Annabeth Chase is just a 25 year old waitress trying desperately to pay her next bill and take proper care of her 13 year old younger brother. Life for her is simple, and as much as she tries to convince her otherwise, she doesn't like it that way.

Perseus "Percy" Jackson is a prominent 27 year old businessman who will do anything to inherit what was promised to him. But getting that inheritance has proved to be a lot more difficult than he'd anticipated.

With the deadline looming over his horizon, how far is he willing to go to get what's his? And how far is Annabeth willing to go to provide her brother the childhood he deserves?

An engagement contract seems a simple enough answer to their problems, but is it? And as Annabeth is drawn further and further into Percy's world, how long until she uncovers the truth behind his family's wealth?

Perseus

.

Before long, Jason is pulling up to the entrance of Atlantis Consolidated. Perseus slips his phone into his pocket and opens the car door. He knocks on the window that's dividing him and his driver. "Thanks, Jace."

The window lowers just as the 27 year old places a foot on the manicured sidewalk outside the car. Their eyes meet in the rear view mirror and Jason nods, inhaling sharply through his nostrils.

Something's bothering him.

Percy's eyebrows pinch as he opens his mouth to speak. But before he can breathe a word, his friend is turning around in his seat. Jason's eyes are blank and cool. "You're going to be late, sir."

Sir?

The businessman swallows thickly. Jason has never called him sir in all the years that they've known each other. Was he angry with him?

Jason raises an eyebrow and stares. "You should get going. You know your father is going to be angry at your tardiness."

Perseus exhales, his heart thumping. "You're right. I'll see you at lunch, Jason."

His friend doesn't respond and turns in his seat. His sky colored irises follow the moving traffic ahead.

Percy exits the car and shuts the door. Jason waits for a few seconds before speeding off. The 27 year old takes in a heavy breath and turns, ignoring the shameless paparazzi pretending to hide in the bushes as he walks into the building.

Employees scramble out of his path as he moves towards the elevators. A few brave ones mumble out greetings and good-mornings. Percy nods and grunts in response, occasionally lifting a hand.

And like always, he finds himself in the elevator alone.

He still doesn't know if he likes it.

. .

"Good morning, Mr. Jackson." His secretary moves her eyes from her computer screen to grin at him.

He slows his gait. "How many times will I have to tell you not to call me that, Peyton?"

She shrugs, her smile faltering.

Perseus glances at his watch. "Also, do you know if my father is here yet?"

Peyton nods swiftly. He watches her ponytail swing as she files through her folders with expertise. "He's been here since 8."

The Greek fights back a curse.

His secretary continues without missing a beat. "Mr. Jackson, Sr. wanted me to tell you that he needs to speak with you as soon as he's available."

Percy can't refrain from sighing even if he wanted to. Already, he can sense the pending lecture that looms over his horizon. "How long until he goes back to Italy? Or Greece?"

Peyton smiles. "Lance tells me that his flight is scheduled for Saturday night."

"Thank God." Percy pinches the bridge of his nose and walks into his office. His secretary hurries after him. "Is there anything else?" He asks as he sinks into his swivel chair. "Specifically for me?"

She shakes her head. Her green eyes flicker around the room, as if she's uncomfortable. "No, just a missed call from Ireland."

Perseus groans inwardly. "Was it from Dare? Di 'al bastardo che può baciare il mio-" [Tell the bastard he can kiss my-]

His secretary cuts him off, her cheeks warming. "No, sir. It was from his daughter, Rachel." She bites her lip.

He can't ignore the fact that Rachel Dare is calling him again. Percy leans over his desk, massaging his temples. "Scopami," he whispers under his breath. Then, moving back to his original position, he nods at her. "Thank you, Peyton. Let me know when anything changes."

"Of course, sir." Peyton turns and leaves the room, closing the door behind her.

He drags a hand down his face and lets out a groan. Just a few more months, just a few more months.

Hang in there, Percy.

The young businessman turns in his seat and faces the window that takes up an entire wall of his office. He gazes at the horizon that hides behind the city skyline.

"Of course he would force me to get engaged," Perseus whispers to himself. He gets up from his seat and walks over to the window, leaning against it. His closed fist presses against the glass. "Not he. They. They forced me to."

He rests his forehead to the window. On paper, getting engaged to Rachel Dare makes the most sense. She's attractive (although subjectively), well educated, wealthy, and classy (again, subjectively). She's everything his parents would approve of in a daughter in law.

"But damn," he chuckles without humor. "I hate her fucking guts."

So who does that leave to engage?

Percy's thoughts whisper back to Jason's earlier suggestion. Annabeth. For a few moments, he sees her full lips and silver eyes and wavy blonde hair. He sees her gracious jawline and confident stance.

But she's a waitress.

He's almost sad as he pulls away from the window. His family would never approve, or believe it for that matter. His grandfather would probably turn over in his grave if he weren't still alive and kicking.

Percy pinches the bridge of his nose. "So who does that leave?"

His train of thought is forced to a halt as Peyton opens the door. She leans into the room, but even from his position from afar he can see her inherent apprehension. "Your father would like to see you now, Mr. Ja- Perseus." She blushes. "Mr. Perseus."

Percy chuckles despite the fact that his headache throbs all the stronger. "Thank you, Peyton."

She nods with a tight smile before disappearing behind the door.

He straightens his suit jacket and adjusts his watch. His father is the living, breathing description of a perfectionist. The sight of disorganization makes him angry.

Perseus looks over his appearance one last time before sucking in a sharp breath and leaving his office.

. .

"Good morning, Father." He manages his keep his tone balanced.

Poseidon Jackson lifts his cold green eyes and stares at his son with impassiveness overtaking his gaze. "You were late."

Perseus bites back a snort. He should've known that his father wouldn't return his greeting. "Jason took me to breakfast this morning and the waitress messed up my order. But my apologies, Father. It won't happen again."

"I know it won't." His answer his gruff as he stiffly gestures towards the seats that lay before his desk. "Have a seat, Perseus. We have much to talk about."

The 27 year old sinks into a chair, confusion riddling his mind. "What about?"

His father takes a drink of water from the glass that sits on his desk, finishing it off. "Your inheritance. Or," he pauses to place the glass back on the table and folds his hands. "The lack of it since you haven't gotten engaged yet." His frown is disapproving.

"I'm working on it, and you know that, Father." Percy tugs on the cuffs of his suit absentmindedly.

Poseidon stands and begins pacing. "Working on it isn't going to cut it and you know that, Percy." He stops to gaze at his son. "Your grandfather's death is right around the corner. You need to find a bride now."

The 27 year old lifts a hand and tilts his head to the side. "Wait, wait, wait. How do you know he's about to die?"

His father continues pacing. "I got a call from the hospital last night. He had another seizure and-"

Percy grips the arm-rests of his plush chair, apprehension curling around his heart. "What? Why was I not made aware of this? When were you planning on telling me? Do Mom or Hazel know? What about Bianca or Nico? Tyson? Estel-"

Poseidon pauses his gait to send an icy glare at his son. "Do not cut me off ever again, Percy. Get a hold of yourself." A flair of disgust flashes into his irises before he continues pacing. "But to answer your question, yes, your mother is already aware of it. She was at the hospital herself last night. And as for you and the others, I was waiting until the time was right."

Perseus nods stiffly and purses his lips into a thin line. What a bullshitty, cliché excuse. He watches as his father audibly grunts and heads back over to his desk.

Poseidon sits down and presses a button on his pager. "Ms. Lance," he calls.

"Yes, Mr. Jackson?" His secretary's response is almost instantaneous.

"Bring me a cup of coffee and a bottle of water to my office. Now."

"Yes, sir." The line goes dead.

Percy's father reaches into his desk and pulls out a bottle of aspirin. He shakes his head and looks towards his son. "As I was saying, you don't have much time before your grandfather dies, Perseus. The more time between his death and your engagement, the better. You and I both know that the money and the position will automatically go to one of your siblings or cousins a week after the funeral- and none of them are fit to run Atlantis Consolidated."

Out of reflex, the 27 year old swallows thickly and rakes a hand through his hair. "But who am I to marry?"

His father opens his mouth to answer but falters when the door opens and Anna Lance rushes in with a water bottle and a cup of coffee. Both men remain silent as they wait for her to set the beverages on the desk.

"Thank you, Ms. Lance." Poseidon's acknowledgment is brisk and brief.

She nods without response and exits the room.

Poseidon cracks open his bottle of water then shakes out two pills into his palm. He swallows down both with a gulp before turning to his son.

Perseus repeats his question. "Who am I supposed to marry? Rachel Dare?"

His father frowns. "That Irish art model?"

The 27 year old nods, a bit caught off guard by his father's expression.

Poseidon strokes the stubble dappling his jawline. "Well, your mother seems to have taken a liking to her. And I'm sure that she's worked with Hazel before. We know her family and I'm good friends with her father..."

Percy fights off the urge to shudder or grimace.

His father continues, waving his hand. "No. She won't work."

Confusion expands in his chest. "What?"

Poseidon elaborates, folding his hands over his desk after taking a sip of his coffee. "Your grandfather will smell the falsity of the engagement from miles away. Rachel is simply too obvious of a choice."

"She's my back up, just in case I don't find a girl."

His father shakes his head. "Time is running out, Perseus. You have to find a girl- a normal one. No one will expect that, which will make it all the more believable."

Yeah, right.

"Well then, who do I ask?" Percy forces himself to meet his father's gaze. "It's not as if I can just walk out on the street and ask a random girl to marry me."

Poseidon tilts his head. "You mean to tell me you don't have anyone in mind? You aren't friends with any girls from middle class families?"

"I have you and Mom to blame for that." The 27 year old tugs on the sleeves of his suit and readjusts his watch. "I'm not even sure Hazel knew poverty existed until she was 11." Percy's gaze moves from his father's glare to the steaming cup of coffee upon the desk. Seeing the dark liquid reminded him of TC, and the fumbling waitress with the blonde hair. "Actually," he begins, slowly dragging his focus to his father's face.

Poseidon motions for him to continue.

"I do think I have a woman in mind, Father. A normal one, at least." He swallows, already inwardly cursing himself for opening his mouth in the first place.

His father raises an eyebrow. "And who might she be?"

There's no turning back now.

Perseus straightens, and before he can lose his nerve, he answers. "Her name is Annabeth. And she's the waitress who messed up my order earlier this morning."

.

.

Author's Note-

Thanks again for deciding this was worth the read!

I really hope you enjoyed.

Leave a review or something and tell me what you think.

love, April!