Dancing with the Bad Boy | ✓

thirteen | work day

My sleep and peace had been harshly interrupted by my mother who had pulled me out of bed and dragged me to the family room where a bunch of strangers were waiting for us. Rows and rows of shoes, accessories and clothing were evident and that had slightly scared me when my mother placed me on the sofa, allowing the strangers to get to work.

I must've fallen asleep again because when I opened my eyes, my mother's gleeful face was nodding in approval as she lifted me from the sofa and twirled me around. I frowned at her and walked towards the mirror, a man standing beside it as he nodded in approval.

My jaw dropped when I saw myself -a stranger- in the mirror as I was dressed in a black mini dress with noodle string straps. I was wearing socks that were slightly higher than my ankles and big, white platform sneakers. My hair had been slicked back with a bun sitting on top of my head and light makeup sitting on my face.

"What the hell am I wearing?" I asked, bewildered.

"I didn't know you have such long, beautiful legs," my mother commented as she stared at my legs.

I frowned at her. "I'm a dancer."

My mother shooed my comment away. "Only if you were into these kind of styles instead of a leotard, leggings and a sweatpants, you'd become a supermodel."

I almost wanted to throw up. "Adam said to dress appropriately."

My mother blinked at me then laughed. She clicked her fingers and one of the workers has given her an oversized black jacket. "Done."

Heavy sounds of footsteps began to descend the stairs as I sighed, my mother forcing me to stand still as if she knew I would've ran off to change into a clothes that were much more comfortable. Adam stepped into the family room in a navy blue suit and red tie, his eyes skimming my outfit before looking at my mother who shrugged.

Adam sighed and approached my mother before kissing her forehead. "I'll be home soon." He turned to look at me for a slight second before walking away as if thinking I was a dog and would follow him with a look of command.

I raised a brow at him and crossed my arms over my chest, my feet rooted to the spot. Adam must've stopped walking when he didn't hear my footsteps behind him as he turned around and faced me.

"Let's go, Lucinda."

My mother kissed my cheek -another foreign gesture- before practically pushing me out the door, forcing me to walk with Adam who was already stepping in the Rolls Royce. Just as I was about to step inside the car, a figure caught my attention in my peripheral vision as I turned my head to the side to see Sora dressed in his school uniform with a huge duffel bag on one shoulder, his swimming goggles in the other hand.

I frowned before distinctively remembering that he was a swimmer. My eyes widened at the fact that I had discovered Sora's sport.

He was a swimmer.

-

The entire car ride to Adam's office was deadly quiet and the only sound that was heard in the car was the driver's sneezes or cough. Adam had been reading the folders that was already in the car, sipping on a glass of champagne and I had been on my phone with earphones plugged in my ears, wanting to drown the world away.

Honestly I had imagined Sora a football player. Or a basketball player.

"Miss Valentine?"

Maybe, a singer. Who am I kidding, I bet he couldn't even hit the high notes.

"Miss Valentine, we're here," someone announced, snapping me out of my own thoughts as I looked up to see the chauffeur giving me a kind smile before offering me a hand. I solemnly took it before exiting the car as the chauffeur closed the door behind me and pointed to Adam who was waiting by the swinging doors.

"You're embarrassing yourself," Adam whispered in my ear as he opened the door for me but I gave him a bored look before going to the other door and opened it myself, walking in with my pride on my shoulders.

"Look who's embarrassed now," I retorted with an eye roll.

Adam was about to say something, his nostrils flaring in embarrassment or anger -I couldn't tell- when a man in his early forties gave me a judging look at my outfit before speaking to him.

My eyes danced around the building's foyer and I was surprised to find children and teenagers -around my age- wandering around with each other or with their parent, dressed in a suit or suit dress. I silently cursed my mother for her poor choice in clothing at the wrong occasion.

"This is my step-daughter, Lucinda," I heard Adam say as I turned my head to face the man that Adam had been talking to. "Lucinda, this is my colleague, George."

I gave him a strained smile. "Nice to meet you."

George gave me a laugh. "Lucinda, meet my son, Michael."

George looked behind his shoulder and was about to say something but when the space was empty, he turned his body around and scanned the foyer for his son. I couldn't help but chuckle.

"Michael!" George yelled towards the other side of the building. He managed to capture a few eyes but other than that, the other parents were too immersed in their own conversation and introducing their children to even invest their attention on George.

A tall male, around Sora's height, with shaggy dirty blonde hair and hazel green eyes dressed in all black with a leather jacket, began to approach us. I gulped, suddenly feeling intimidated by his bored expression and yet, I knew how it felt to be other people when they see me.

"Michael," he said, extending a hand out to me with a displeased face.

I rolled my eyes at him. "Lucinda." I actually kind of liked this guy, even though he was slightly intimidating.

"So, you didn't conform to the business world attire, huh?" Michael questioned, his eyes raking up and down my body.

"My mom actually picked this out for me," I answered with a shrug. "If it were up to me, it would've been a hoodie and sweatpants."

Michael looked at me approvingly. "Hm, nice."

"Looks like our kids suit each other, huh?" George said, nudging Adam who was eyeing me with disgust.

I stared at him blankly, silently asking him why he was staring.

"Yeah, the rebels suit each other," Adam agreed with a smirk.

In a blink of an eye, Michael grabbed Adam's collar and pulled him close to his face. George stared at his son, horrific at his actions and yet, satisfaction settled in the pits of my stomach when fear was evident in Adam's eyes.

"When you talk to or about a female, you talk with respect," Michael hissed and I couldn't help but swooned at the hell firing in his hazel eyes. "I hope to god that you also respect your wife at home."

A crowd had already gathered around the scene and George forced Michael to put Adam down and he had reluctantly followed his father's orders. Adam quickly cleared his throat and fixed his suit jacket before hurrying away, George on his heels with apologies spilling out of his mouth.

Michael turned to me with an abnormal smirk. "How about a drink?"

I was too stunned to say no.