The Billionaire And The Waitress (gxg)

28 - a beach

ADRIEN clicked the remote for the thousandth time, watching the simulated window switch from a red desert scene to the waves of the ocean, frothing on the shore. God, she wanted to be in Greece right now―on a beach just like the pixelated one before her.

    Instead, she swivelled around on a chair in her father's office. She clicked the remote again. The beach scene transitioned into a rainforest, glistening trees and green vines. 

    It had been a long day already, and it wasn't even noon. She hadn't slept at all. Instead, after returning to her apartment with Muse, she'd written the note with instructions, waited for Muse to fall asleep, and left. 

    She'd tied up one loose end.

    Now, only one more remained.

    The door burst open, accompanied by the sound of Julien Vitale's irritated voice: "Patricia, why are all the lights in my office open? You're my secretary! What the hell do I pay you for if not to close the―"

    His eyes fell on Adrien.

    The words stuttered to a stop. Patricia's answer―"I'm sorry, sir, next time I'll . . ."―was silenced by the door's swift closing. 

    As a child, Adrien had hoped she'd grow up to look like her mother, who had softer features, a more feminine mouth and a cute upturned nose. 

     She remembered being ten years old. Burying her face into a pillow and praying to God for a face like her mother's. 

    Not just for its beauty―so that, whenever she looked in the mirror, she would carry on the memory. A piece of Mom that would last as long as she lived.

    Instead, she looked just like her father. The spitting image of him in female form. The small bump in her nose that one woman had once said gave her the appearance of a Roman general, or god. Pitch-black eyes that appeared to almost swallow light, and sleek dark hair that couldn't hold a curl. A sharp enough face and jaw that, most days, she felt more masculine than feminine. 

     Now, as Adrien and Julien surveyed each other from across the room, she wondered if that was why nothing she did could ever be quite good enough for him. 

     For Julien, it must have been almost like looking in the mirror. Seeing himself embodied in a woman. Seeing his own eyes, reflected back at him. 

      Pinning him with the same stare. Punishing him.

     "I assume," he said, after the eternal silence, "that there is a reason you are here."

     Adrien clicked the remote one last time, and the simulated window flickered off into the office wall.

     "Don't you ever," she said, "just feel like saying hello first?"

     "I don't understand why I would waste formalities on my own daughter."

     "I don't know, Dad. You went through the formality of asking my wife to spy on my business records. My financial information."

     Julien's jaw clenched. "Don't you forget, Adrien, that she is only your wife because of me. Because of the deal we made. What would be to happen if I told her that this was all for your reputation?"

      Adrien couldn't help it. A laugh escaped her. "Really, Dad? More blackmail? Save it. Muse knows about that."

     "Muse knows too much, then. She cannot be trusted." He paced from end to end of the enormous office, his salt-and-pepper hair gleaming in the slivers of sunlight between the closed curtains. "She betrayed me. I will have to―"