Mrs. Barren smiled a bit, holding her hand up, stopping me from saying from anything else. "I didn't show them to anyone. I was going to show it to Mrs. Willis, but that didn't happen when I had sources say that you were her daughter."
"Why were you going to show them to my mother?" I asked.
"Well, you were fifteen at the time, and I was going to see if I couldn't close your business. I knew that you were making fashion clothes cheap and for anyone that needed one."
"Why didn't you?" I asked, furrowing my brows together.
"Well, for one, your mother is a total bitch. And another, I would rather be partners with you than with her," Mrs. Barren said.
"Why?" I asked.
"Because you showed compassion not only to your workers but to your clothes as well. If something happened to a piece of clothing, you somehow knew how to fix it, even if you couldn't see it."
"How long have you been spying on me?" I asked.
She shrugged. "'Bout a year," she replied. "I wanted to see if you were the same person over that year and had the same respect for everyone."
I shifted on my feet, a blush forming on my cheeks. "So, I guess that means that you saw the duck incident?"
Mrs. Barren smiled and pointed at the pictures. "I have it in here," she said.
I bit back a groan and laid my head on the table to Mrs. Barren's chuckle. "How do I know that you won't use these against me if there is a fallout?" I asked. I was worried that the wrong people would find out about me and try to shut it down.
"Your mother all ready says rude stuff about you; why would I add fuel to her fire?"
I shrugged and lifted my head. "I don't know," I said, honestly. "But I can't think of a reason as to why you would keep something like this away from her."
"Maybe because I like you. I don't know that much about you, except what I had gathered from my person that was inside, but you are strong, compassionate, kind, caring, and trustworthy. What would you do if you got a call to go to one of your factories during school?"
"And I could only fix the problem? I would leave," I replied. "I would first try to get someone else to do it by telling them how to do it. If that doesn't work, then I will leave school the day and try to fix it."
"How many languages do you speak?"
I shrugged. "I have over one hundred companies. Sixty are in the US. Thirty are in English speaking countries. The rest are spread out. I can speak ten languages fluently, including American and British sign language."
Mrs. Barren nodded. "And that is why I will not tell your mother about these." She gestures to the pictures in my hand. "Burn them or keep them in a file that your mother can't get to. They are yours to do what you want."
I looked at the photos and nodded. "Thanks, I guess."
Mrs. Barren smiled. "No problem." She stood and grabbed some of the cookies. "These are good," she said before holding out her hand. "I will see you at fashion shows, Ms. Prescott," she said.
I smiled and stood as well before shaking her hand. "I will see you at shows."
***
"You've gotta be shitting me," Ethan said, laying on my bed with Eevie beside him. "Mrs. Barren was able to send a spy into your agency?"
"It wasn't a spy," I said. "The person was normal and just so happened to have work for her."
"I thought you said you wouldn't hire someone from a different company," Eevie said. "Or that was what you told me."
"Correction, I told you both that I will never hire someone from the Willis company ever."
"What if they hate her?"
"Still wouldn't," I replied.
"Did she get pictures of the duck incident?" Eevie asked, sitting up. Curiosity burned in her eyes because I had told her about the duck incident but had never gotten around to her the actual footage from it.
I nodded. "And no, you can't see them. I gave the pictures to Wally to make sure that they will not get into the wrong hands; more importantly, my mother."
"What if he is the wrong person?" Ethan asked. He grimaced when Eevie hit him with a pillow and rubbed his head. "Ow, I was just saying," he said.
"He wouldn't do anything with them, and you know it," Eevie scowled. "Who else will he take care of if he loses this job?"
"Probably help out another family with another spoiled, rich kid," Wally said from the doorway. He held a tray of food in his hands, and I could see Trisha behind him with another tray. "It seems to be a butler's job."
I got up from where I was seated and took the tray from him, ignoring the glare he sent my way. "I thought I was eating with all of you."
"You will be eating up here with your friends," Trisha said. "I think that everyone needs a break from the Willis family." She sent me a wink, and I rolled my eyes.
"Whatever, you just wanted me to eat up here because you thought I would be lazy," I said, putting the tray down on the table.
"May-be," she replied, putting hers beside me. "Enjoy the meal. Wally will take the trays downstairs, so do not bring them down yourself."
I placed a hand over my heart and blinked in shock. "Why I never," I said in a Southern accent. "Do you know how immoral it is to do a... servant's job?" I asked. "I am a "spoiled rich kid" after all."
Trisha snorted and moved a hand through my hair, and I grimaced and swatted at her hand. "You, my Dear Friend, are crazy," she said. "Come down if you want dessert. We will have cake."
"I will," I said, chuckling. "I will see you in about an hour or so."
They nodded and left.
I turned to look at my friends who were trying not to laugh. I couldn't help but raise an eyebrow, wanting to know what they thought. "Am I really that spoiled?"
"Definitely."
"Totally."
