A/N: For those asking, this story is in Summer's POV, a 18 year old who about to find out what her mom (Ms. Montague) has just done.
As soon as I enter, I suddenly find myself six inches away from a livid Ms. Montague.
She slams the door shut behind me and disdainfully scans my face.
Not a pleasant expression to see on her wisened face.
Ms. Montague is my mother, but I'm not allowed to call her that.
"Your whereabouts? You are..." She glances at her Rolex. "...nineteen minutes late."
Every audible thought of mine returns to the staff member I kicked down a flight of stairs. I hold onto my silence by a bare thread, well aware of the trouble I would be in if she knew. I snicker under my breath.
Ms. Montague clicks her tongue. Her face turns bitter and her frown tightens.
"No need, for the janitor has kindly informed me of your actions."
Well, no shit, wishes really do come true.
"Additionally," she continues, "She told me there was no check-in with the limo. May you explain that, Summer? You didn't walk here again, did you?" Her face goes from bitter to silently furious.
Ok, that's the last straw. Next time I spot that janitor nearby, I'll pour spoiled milk all over the carpet.
"..."
"We'll continue later, you bitch of a daughter." She stares at me coldly before turning and walking to the back of the office.
Dayum, all I did was arrive late.
I follow behind her silently, trying to take up as little space as possible. The office is larger and more complex than I had briefly imagined it to be. Like the lobby, this office had one main color scheme; except here it is a stoic, dark chocolate brown.
Numerous chairs are stationed in the oddest of places, as obsolete as the lobby's stairway.
Suddenly, I stumble across a new face.
The man was staring directly at me with strong, light blue eyes. He has a masculine jawline and a small graying beard, contrasting the shady black hair on his head. He's studying me quite intensely.
"Pleasure to meet you, Summer Montague. I am Shane Roselyn, the CEO of the company and head of the office." Teeth sparkling, he outstretches out his right hand.
Wait a minute... Shane Roselyn?!
He's a billionaire, right? I'm internally panicking.
No way. Could I be getting married to him?
Isn't he almost fifty-something?!
"Ms. Montague."
Oh, wait. I have to shake his hand. Oops.
Embarrassed, I quickly take his rough hand in mine and shake it. Grateful that my pulse isn't located in my palm, I sit down on the chair clearly reserved for me.
"I apologize for my daughter, Mr. Roselyn." My mother was glaring at me the entire time. A feeling of rage sweeps over me.
He looks at me with a devilish grin. "It's fine, a pinch of insecurity won't hurt anyone. In fact, it makes her cuter, in a way."
