Note : Important chapter coming up!
One P.M, fifteen minutes and four seconds.
I kept on staring at my wristwatch, getting the urge to break something. Daniel was late, just as he had said yesterday. Although, I wasn't sure he was serious at that time.
Unfortunately, he was. If one more minute passes, I swear I'm done with this. I had leave for Chicago in a flight today, at twelve noon, but this palooka made me cancel it. If he doesn't come in here in another minute, I'm leaving for good.
Although, all this does surprise me a lot. Why would he, one of the most successful business, have a picture of Jess? She wasn't a model or a daughter of someone socially important. Then why?
Does he have any ties with her? No, that's impossible.
But what if she was his long, lost sister or something? That would be so unnatural. If that'd be the case, then Jess will definitely be above me in the market hierarchy, considering her brother's money.
One P.M, sixteen minutes and seven seconds.
And my patience flies away out the window. I get up, fuming with anger. How dare he not show up for a meeting with me? Doesn't he realise that I'm a busy man?
Just as I was leaving from my office, I crashed into someone. I grunted on the impact and immediately glared at the person who dare do such a thing. I expected to meet the eyes of some poor servant who was about to be fired by me, but instead I saw someone else.
"You've decided to show up, at last, Mr. Winston," I said.
"Yes, I noticed that too. I suppose it's a little obvious, as I'm standing at the entrance to your office," he replied.
"You very well are, just sixteen minutes late," I spoke, my temper rising. "I'm done with you. We'll have to arrange a meeting another time. I have somewhere to be."
"Well, that's a pity. Because I won't be this willing to share my personal business with a man I don't even know," he shook his head.
"Oh, you don't know me. Well, I'm Elliot Smith," I answered. "Unhappy to meet you."
"I'm serious, Smith," he snarled. "I'm not here to waste my time. Either we talk now or never."
"Nothing about my time you wasted?" I questioned, raising an eyebrow.
"Running a successful company does that to you," he shrugged. "Now, do you want to know why I have your...girlfriend's, I suppose, picture?"
"She-she's not my girlfriend," I muttered, looking down. "Let's talk then."
That's how I ended up sitting on a comfortable sofa, sipping coffee, right across my business rival.
Definitely not fun, I say.
"Why do you have her picture?" I ask. "And don't you dare make-up stories, because I demand proof for everything you utter."
"Don't take this talk for granted, Smith," he growled. "Consider it a favour."
"I shall consider it whatever I wish to," I snapped. "You have no right to do me a favour without me asking for it."
"Useless talking to you," he muttered. "And your short-temper."
"Just start giving me my answers already," I said.
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The Guy Who Called Me An A-class Bitch
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