Meeting Mr. Mogul(9)

I stiffened at her words. "Is this a trick question? Are you trying to  test me?" I asked, overlooking her delight at the situation.

"No to the first question. And maybe I am testing you," she paused with a smile. "So..." she trailed off waiting for my answer.

"Yes. I insulted him. The man belittled me. He was being a prick, so I had to tell him off," I justified.

"Yes, my brother can be a handful sometimes," she agreed, "But I assure  you that it wasn't my mother's intention to bring him up that way. He  sort of became what he is now after our father died. I can't blame him.  He worked hard to get our old man's company, but our dad gave the  company to me instead. That doesn't show fatherly affections," she  pointed out nonchalantly.

"I'm sorry to hear that," I said after a beat of silence, not really sure what to say after that revelation.

"So, let's talk business," she stated and gestured for me to sit across  from her. She sat on the huge leather chair behind a mahogany desk.

I sat down after she did and sorted out my jumbled thoughts as best as I  could. My heart was beating steadily as my thoughts raced on her  implication of business. What kind of business would she want with me?

"Before I proceed, I want to know more about you. So, Andy, where do you live?" she asked, taking me by surprise.

"Oh! About me... I currently live at my friend's apartment in Brewerytown," I stuttered slightly, shy at this admission.

"Your salary is about three thousand a month, but is now lesser than  that since you quit your other job, correct?" she asked in confirmation.

"Yes."

"And you pay a portion of your father's medical fee? Is your salary enough to cover those expenses?"

"Yes," I replied softly as I stared at her. "How do you know all these?" I asked absent-mindedly.

"You applied for me, Andy. We have your background file with us," she  answered with a smile, "I also read that you applied as an art curator  for our new gallery."

"Wait, you own Galleria de Belle?" I asked, stunned.

"Yes. An art gallery is a good investment," she replied with a soft  chuckle. This was when I finally saw her familiar blue eyes. They were  the same tint of blue as Mr. Mogul's and were luminous in the light.

"Here is my offer," she started after a brief pause, her demeanor  serious and professional, "You can have the job as my art curator if you  come and work for me for the next three months before the gallery  opens."

"Why?" I was stunned by her offer. Where is she going with this?

"I fired my last assistant, and I'm in need of one right away. You don't  have to worry. The pay is very handsome. It's about forty-five thousand  a month. I'll even throw in an apartment. After all, I don't want my  assistant homeless," she replied with an enthusiastic smile.

I stared at her with my eyebrows raised. The woman just looked down on  me in an uncanny manner, just like her brother before her. I mentally  snorted at the similarities. "That is very generous of you, Ms. Maxwell,  but why me?" I asked again, unfazed by the offer.

"Back to the topic about my brother... So far, you are the only woman  who was able to look past his physical appearance and face him straight  on. I've never known any woman, who isn't me, my mother, nor his  assistant who can do that to him," she replied with a smirk.

"So?"   





 

"So..." she paused for a second. "Since my office is beside his, I'll  finally get some work done without my assistant drooling over my  brother," she continued, her tone condescending and blunt.

"Right... So that means I'll be seeing him more often?" I asked, though the answer was obvious.

"Yes. You will be seeing him every day."

I stood up from my chair, my face blank. This was the greatest job offer  I've ever had in my life. But, there was just that one catch. Why does  the thing you want to avoid always finds you and bites you in your  behind? It didn't add up. I can't be the only person who was indifferent  towards her brother. However, I had seen him in a suit, and I have to  admit that he is good-looking. I pursed my lips from the image that  popped in my mind and shoved it away.

I paced for a second as I thought of my reply. Alexandra sat there,  staring at me patiently. I can see the gleam of amusement in her eyes.  That was probably because she knew she was giving me an offer I couldn't  refuse. I thought of some way to get out of it, but I needed the money.  Plus, the apartment benefit would get me out of the homeless status.  But was it worth it?

I stopped pacing and turned to face her. Alexandra sat up straight in her chair, ready to listen to my reply.

"I accept your offer, Ms. Maxwell. Though, I have a request," I stated.

"What is it?" she asked, slightly taken off guard by my words.

"Can I have the weekend off?" I asked shyly, mentally squirming under her scrutiny.

Then, her eyes softened as she replied, "Of course. I don't want to take away your time with your father."

"Thank you. So, when do I start?" I asked enthusiastically, which made her laugh in delight.

For the rest of the night, Alexandra allowed me to work my last shift at  the club. Jack wasn't pleased to know that his partner's sister had  stolen his new staff member. But he was happy for me. Not once did he  show how inconvenient it would be to find a replacement. I wanted to  offer my dear friend, Terry, for the position. Before I could even say a  word, the man in question was behind me, stopping me from saying  anything.

I didn't stay until the club closed and took a ride home with Terry  (which was Jack's idea). On the ride back, I finally let the  conversation with Alexandra sink in. Though she had told me her reasons,  they still weren't enough for me. However, I was in no position to  question any of them again since I really needed this job. Plus, she  made an offer I couldn't refuse.

The next morning, I woke up at the usual time and my usual routine. As I  finished eating breakfast and washing the dishes, I sat in my makeshift  bed and watched a show on mute. The whole apartment was quiet. I was  glued to the television when a knock on the door broke the silence. I  was so startled by the sound that I jumped off the couch.

I tiptoed to the door after the person stopped knocking. I couldn't help  but wonder who was on the other side. No one in this apartment had  anything to do this early in the morning. And Andrew rarely came by to  visit. Curious, I looked at the peephole.

As I finally got a good look of the person on the other side of the  door, I felt my heart jolt at the sight of him. It was the person that I  never, in a million years, would have guessed to come to this side of  town.

He was wearing his usual suit, but without a tie and two buttons on the  top undone. His dirty blonde hair was slick back in a neat do. He paced  back and forth in front of the door, his hand in his pocket. I continued  to stare at him in shock, not really processing the current situation.

In frustration, he stopped pacing and pulled out his hand from his  pocket, balling it to a fist. He was about to pound on my door, but  before he could, I unlocked and opened it. He stood there, stunned for a  second, before clearing his throat and taking a steady breath.

"Good morning, Mr. Maxwell. What a pleasant surprise," I greeted in  exaggeration, which made him close his mouth before he could say a word.

"Can I have a few minutes of your time?" he asked, his voice deep and controlled.

"Sure. What do you want?" I asked, getting straight to the point.

He didn't reply, only looked at me for a moment. He raised his eyebrow.   





 

"Aren't you going to invite me in?" he asked in frustration, like this was what I should have done.

"This isn't my apartment, so we can discuss here. Unless our  conversation would be long enough that my feet would get hurt from  standing. Would it?" I asked sarcastically, rolling my eyes at him.

Before he responded, he took another steady breath. "No. This won't be long."

"So … " I trailed off.

"Did you talk to my sister yesterday?" he asked, his tone meant business.

"Why do you ask?" I countered, refraining from answering his question.

"Why do you always challenge my patience?" he mumbled to himself in tight lips. After another intake of breath, he asked again.

"Yes. I met her last night. If she hadn't pointed out who she was, I  wouldn't even know you were related. She had good manners," I relented,  eyeing him with venom.

"What did you talk about?" he asked eagerly.

"That is really none of your business, Mr. Maxwell," I answered in  finality. Thankfully, Terry called out my name from his room and  inadvertently saved me from further interrogation.

"If you are not going to tell me, I would assume the worst," he stated  softly in a rush. He trailed off the last part, mumbling softly to  himself.

"It is the worst... for me at least," I countered back in the same tone.