𝐓𝐨𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐝𝐬 𝐓𝐨𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐨𝐰

2 - Questions.

Elisabeth ‘Elsa’ Georgia Arendelle.

Twenty-four, devastatingly drop dead gorgeous, and undoubtedly Aphrodite incarnate.

Also one of the youngest Chief-Executive-Officers and Chairwomen in the world to ever run a company, as imprinted in TIME, Vogue, Forbes, just name it. She’s heard of.

Once a single man’s eye lands on her, it will be overly impossible for him to turn away to find another masterpiece to gawk at.

Through thick lashes, one can find those intoxicatingly innocent arctic blue eyes, and lower and lower, crimson lips that are yet to be kissed by probably any filthy rich guy wearing an Armani suit and a Rolex watch. A common scenario Elsa hoped wouldn’t happen.

She’s doing great on her own.

Nothing, or no one can make her think so otherwise.

For now, nobody can see how the black formal skirt clung to her hips so damn tightly, or how the flawless blazer hugged her curvaceous silhouette as she crossed her legs in wonder inside her tidy office.

Dainty fingers subconsciously stroked the platinum braid rested against her shoulder, and she took a cursory glance at the clock to see if her new secretary could get any more tardy than thirty minutes.

“Sweetheart, can mama expect you to behave today?” She crooned, her voice sweet as candy as she impatiently tapped a hand on her uncluttered desk.

Not too far away, playing on the pristine white, shaggy fur carpet was a four-year-old girl lifting her gaze from her treasured doll to her mother who has nearly the same shade of blue irises, though the preschooler’s were strikingly lighter.

Most employees gossip that the child was a product of a one night stand—but apparently the rumor is false.

Some whisper that maybe their CEO was secretly eloped, then again, that theory is proven false. Nobody really knows, not even the wind speed reporters ready to hog her attention once she steps a heel out of the grand building to make a beeline for Starbucks.

What makes things stranger, is that she’s already making her way to be part of the Top Three Most Eligible Bachelorettes in the business realm.

These pointless lists and rankings, it’s driving her mad. Those will only attract more men to come after her none existent affections, much to her frustration.

“I always behave, mama,” Came the witty response of the darker blonde who smiled at her parent cutely.

“That’s my Claire-bear,” Elsa nods with a gentle grin, her stiletto heels clicking against the waxed floors as she makes her way to gracefully bend down and give the child a kiss on her cheek.

Claire picked up a stray sky blue toy car and dropped the plastic doll, keeping herself occupied with the company of the surrounding pink dollhouses children would be crying about whenever their desire to buy such is not granted.

Elsa quietly watched as her daughter garrulously voiced a Barbie and a Ken, giggling softly when the adorable girl dressed in gray tucked with an overall used the two dolls to mimic a hug.

“Mama, can I ask you somethiw?”

“It’s pronounced as something baby,” Elsa lightly corrected, folding her arms. She really doesn’t know why she dragged herself to work on a Saturday. “And yes, love, go ahead.”

“Mama... what’s a daddy?”

She did everything in her power to not look uncomfortable.

The question suddenly weighed heavier than the pressure she felt when she gave all those fake smiles she’s been giving to hungry men offering twenty four carat diamonds and lies.