GRACE.
Christopher Miles got to my door step at exactly few minutes to nine the next morning in his usual, disorganized look. He was wearing an over-sized winter coat over a shrunken shirt. It rained early this morning, so I was sure everywhere would be as forlorn as my mood.
I asked him to come in, but he declined, explaining he was going to stay out to arrange his camera as he left home in too much of a hurry.
“Grace?” he called from outside. “You know the interview is taking place in his home office and not at his main company right?”
Oh, I had no idea. What the hell is Connor Shelby planning anyway? The entitled bastard! I scoffed.
“Sure Chris, let’s go,” I said, emerging from my house and shutting my door.
We used Precious since Chris didn’t have a car. I hoped she would be able to take us as far as Shelby Mansion which was at the heart of London. We drove in silence, as Chris noticed I was in no mood to talk.
I wanted to get this interview done with, so I could go pick Laurel up from school in time. NK took her this morning. I hated being a bother to people, and even though NK and Jody said they were okay with it and tried to always help, I wasn’t.
Thirty minutes later, we drove into the main gate of Shelby Mansion. I could swear it was one of the biggest property in the whole of England.
The gate had security cameras that were obviously being watched 24/7, owning to the way it whined and turned to scrutinize us even as we were inside the car before opening.
“Jeez, coming here has always been on my bucket list,” Chris mumbled under his breath, looking suddenly anxious.
“I guess you can die in peace now, Chris,” I let out a dry chuckle as I drove in. We didn’t see any building till we drove for more than ten minutes. All we could see were tall trees and dense bushes. I wondered how they managed such forest, calling it the pride of their mansion.
I wouldn’t be surprised if wild animals were in them.
As soon as we drove into the main building, a middle-aged man dressed in a military-like light blue on dark blue uniform directed us to the parking lot. The amount of cars in the parking lot, all exotic, caused me to gasp out loud.
From Ferraris to Mercedes and Lamborghinis, they were all lined up as if it’s a car sale company.
“Yeah, Grace. You can say that again,” Chris’ jaw dropped.
It was strikingly obvious as soon as we shuffled out of the car that Precious and even Chris and I looked completely out of place here.
The man who directed us to the parking lot asked for our ID before showing us to the foyer, which led us to the first floor. The hall we walked into was breathtakingly ostentatious. It was as though we had walked into an imagination, a surreal atmosphere.
Exquisite chandeliers shimmering with golden lights hung from the unnecessarily high ceiling. The floor was designed with blindingly white interlocking tiles.
Everything looked expensive, like an exhibition center for rich people. We really didn’t belong here.
A young brunette sitting behind a tall, wide mahogany counter was smiling at us as we walked towards her. She was smartly dressed in prim black blazers with sparkling white shirt.
“Hello, welcome to Shelby Mansion. You’re…” she paused as her eyes quickly skimmed through our work IDs draped over our necks. “NAs Daily! Yes. I’ll let Alpha Shelby’s assistant know you are here.”
She announced gesturing towards a large grey couch by the side of her counter. “Please take a sit.” and picked up the telephone in front of her.
She spoke into the telephone then turned to announce that the assistant would join us shortly.
As huge as the hall was, I felt breathless, like it was all of a sudden too stuffy and closing in on me. Uncomfortable was an understatement. I just couldn’t wait to be out of here.
The man I saw with Connor Shelby at Dior’s Diner and at my place the other day strode down the stairs towards us. He was obviously the person referred to as the assistant. I was always seeing him with the Alpha.
He was tall, but not as tall as Connor Shelby, with a serious demeanor and handsome face.
“Ms. Jones and Mr. …?”
“Chris,” Chris added getting up from the couch to extend s hand.
“Yes, Mr. Chris, welcome.” the assistant shook our hands briefly and led us upstairs.
We met another secretary there who took our coats from us and asked if we wanted tea or coffee.
“Don’t worry Portia, the Alpha is ready now. But you can get something for Mr. Chris.” the assistant told the secretary then turned to Chris. “Alpha Connor would like to go through with the interview before pictures, so if you don’t mind, you can wait here. Portia would entertain you with whatever you like.” his tone was crisp, curt and straight to the point.
Oh no! I don’t want to be alone with Connor Shelby.
I begged Chris with my eyes to refuse but he simply muttered “Sure” and sat down comfortably on the couch while the assistant led me into what seemed to be Connor Shelby’s office.
I walked behind the assistant into the office realizing how cheap my clothes looked even though I had iron-pressed them meticulously before putting them on.
What do I care anyway? I smirked at myself. Connor Shelby hating me what was I was actually hoping on. Or am I?
Oh my, oh my, my breath caught in my throat as soon as I stepped into the office. The place they called an office was four times larger than the flat I shared with Laurel.
White and blue theme artistically splattered all over the place, everything looked classy, neat and expensive. From the lightings to the floor-to-ceiling windows, to the stunning framed paintings on the wall. With a vintage blue and white couch that looked like it was specially made for the office.
No doubt, Connor Shelby had great taste.
“Thank you Marcus,” he nodded at his assistant who bowed slightly and was gone. I swallowed hard, beginning to feel a wave of nervousness rise from deep within my stomach.
He was putting on a white hooded sweater with an exquisitely tailored dark-brown blazers, looking casual and formal all at once, his thick brown hair expertly jelled and sleeked backwards.
He was sexiness on a pair of legs.
“Hello Grace,” he smiled exposing perfect set of teeth, walking towards me. “Please sit.”
“Thank you for having us, Mr. Shelby, it’s an honor.” I said with a formal and distant tone, taking my sit.
He sat opposite me causing me to tense up instantly. It was my turn to be nervous. I was meeting him in his element, the place he was most comfortable in.
And anyone would be nervous around Connor Shelby. His commanding presence, his gait, his aura, the standoffish manner with which he carries himself, and not to forget, his steel-grey X-ray eyes.
How did he turn into another human being within seven years? I could say I didn’t really know everything about him seven years ago, but I was certain he was down-to-earth back then. What happened?
“What would you like, Grace?” he stared at me intently, leaning back on the couch with one leg crossed over the other.
“Water is fine.” I answered curtly, trying so damn hard not to squirm under his penetrating gaze. It was as though he was reading my mind. He leaned forward, pressed a little intercom on the glass table between us and said, “Portia, can you get Ms. Grace a glass of water? Thank you.”
He withdrew his finger from the intercom and continued his penetrating stare while I shuffled through my bag retrieving the recorder, note pad and the questionnaire Steph gave to me.
I placed them carefully on the glass table and adjusted my posture to meet his gaze. They were amused, I wonder what exactly was funny.
“I’ll turn on the recorder, and we start. Are you ready?” I asked, maintaining a distant tone..
“If you can handle the consequences of the things I really want to say right now, you’re free to turn it on, Grace.” He said my name like a very important word with a light shrug.
“What do you want, Mr. Shelby?”
“I want you to call me Connor, and I want us to talk,” he said and continued staring. “If you agree, then we can start the interview right away.”
“Talk about what, Connor?”
“Everything, Grace.” He looked out the window. “Everything we didn’t talk about seven years ago in your college apartment.”
“Alright,” I said.
Anything to leave his presence. It was just talk right? There was absolutely nothing difficult about talk.
“You sure?” he looked doubtful.
“I am.” I breathed, feeling my resolve falter. “Can we begin now?”