"Get the luggage ready by next noon"
The assistant nodded, running his fingers through the sheaf of papers. The dining room was lit, in beauty and style, its gold luxury glistening off every nook of the wall. Cupboards flushed with glass crockeries, vases and fresh flowers adorned the right while the left of the big-sized table was embraced in portraits
"Sir, but we have that lunch in the afternoon...after our official meet"
Realization dawned with the slip of his words. As expected, that remark wasn't quite appealed. His eyes wavered at the mention, twisting the silence into a peak of warning for the young lad, who now in his shining suit and tie, flinched. Through those sweaty brows, he looked up at his master, who now had pulled down his shades.
"Lunch isn't the appropriate word. It is a buffet, Harry"
The latter nodded vigorously, his breath gasping at the way his name had been pronounced. Only he knew how insulting it would be to hear one's name spoken, spelled from those thick lips.
That harsh tone mingled in pride and absolute manliness could scare even a lion that had consumed ten he-goats.
"I apologize, sir. The buffet it is"
He stood up. Pulling in the sides of the black Gucci coat, he smirked. Now that figure is a spellbound factor, one with which even a man would drool but Harry knew he wouldn't. Not only because he had engaged Wales but also because that trust his master had within him, needed to be maintained at all dear costs.
Now, he stood next to him, both hands buried in those rich Louis Philippe pockets, as he stared hard at his assistant, the trust he had grabbed from another well-embraced company, King Liar thirteen years back.
"So, as always, send someone in for the package."
Harry bowed in respect.
"Yes sir."
He made sure to keep an eye on his master, till the door closed behind.
Then a smirk or a giggle perhaps fell from his lips.
Just thinking how his master craved food brought forward it always.
"It is indeed a lovely afternoon"
Harry stayed on put with his good manners. Keeping all the papers inside, except for that personal diary where schedules and all-important facts went in, he opened the door for the man of the show.
Cars rich in glory and pompous splendor came shining into the pavement, but undoubtedly, the richest businessman in the city could always stay on the top. The red Ferrari of the latest edition with its open sunroof showing off that great lean body was more than enough to keep the cameras and the lively attention of every being.
However, Harry shared no part of this pomp, instead acted more like a servant than an assistant.
Out he walked, dressed in those same suit and tie, however now red and white, those matching colors Harry had said, looked bad on him. Now that wasn't new; he always did what was wrong.
The flashing cameras subsided when Harry and the two security guards outside Royal Emore gave space.
And in walked the living legend, the boy who caught every eye and melted them; Aiden Mathews.
The richest and most gorgeous.
Yet, the scariest ever.
* *
"Please sit down"
Aiden dragged his eyes over every chair. The one which had been marked his, stood next to the wall. Had been all fine, set up in the luxurious cushion seat but a problem. Right next to Lady Halsey; the annoying business rival of Heather Textiles and Accessories.
"I need it changed"
It wasn't a scream neither a whisper.
Just an order.
"SERVANTS!".
Now that is the shrill yet commanding voice of Mrs. Halsey, the coordinator of this 'buffet' as well as the most royal woman whose lack of love had pushed her into a business crisis a few years back.
Nevertheless, she had pulled herself back only after Aiden offered her a million dollars. That on the other hand wasn't his idea but his dads who had passed away just the day after.
But that scream she had, was not only for the pride and gratitude but also a tinge of libido she had. What was surprising was it stood strong even in her forties.
All those dignitaries seated around the dining table were rushed about and pushed, or rather forgotten about even though they represented many more productive companies and ownerships.
However, they didn't complain, even when their seats were pushed aside, or shuffled about. They remained or rather pretended to be engrossed in talks, phones, or simply silence.
Aiden remained, as the man of the show, just beside Harry, who was keenly jabbing his sweat from the queer attention.
"Sir, it is done", he uttered on seeing the beautiful seats changed now.
But his boss didn't walk forward, instead stood still like a stone, rigid and flaccid.
"Sir?"
"Give me a minute"
And around the settled table, upstairs he walked, making way straight for the bathroom.
Aiden's POV.
The white clean tiles of granite flourished the smooth floor. The marble shining off a state of love birds hanging in a corner. The fresh smell of flowers in a vase kept beside the basins; cleaned and occupied with handwashes, each of them overlooked a large white mirror capturing reflections of everything passing through the way.
Behind, many wooden doors opened to private spots, not even a sound echoing from either. Aiden looked up in confusion, whether he had been mistaken.
But just then, a toilet flushed and a door flung open.
Out she walked, just as had been envisioned a few seconds before.
Aiden stood, thunderstruck as the girl made to the basins without giving him a second glance, washing her hands.
He, however, remained staring.
"..Excuse me?", he gathered his voice.
A sudden wince. A pulling of her skirt and a silenced glance. She looked up at the glass, to see both their images standing side by side, the unfamiliar one pushing some toilet paper to her hands.
"Umm...Thank you.", she replied, grabbing it.
Aiden ran his eyes over her again.
Lean just like him. However strong for such young blood. That hipline could cut through anything.
Skin, white and pale looked anemic but as beautiful as it could embrace her perfect nose and thick blue eyes. That grown hair ran over her forehead, concealing it and its piggy tail reached up to her neck. The apron hung lifelessly over a simple-minded figurine, while those jeans hung on, exposing those sexy legs.
What was really attractive were those lips. Thick, fleshy and so red unlike its color. It when squished, made an image on Aiden, which from then on became his guilty pleasure.
"Beautiful....", his voice whispered.
The words brought her eyes, squishing hard.
"Name?"
Aiden found his voice again.
But the girl spoke no further. Instead, tried to make a run for the door.
Though it was disrespectful, he blocked her path.
In stark consternation, she said firmly,
"I do have a mouth, mister. But please don't make a scene here."
"Why would I make one?", he whispered, biting is lips over the sight of hers.
"I don't know...You look rebellious...and is actually inside the lady's bathroom now!"
Hearing that, he almost fainted in delight. This feeling not walking away.
"Then tell me, why shouldn't I make one?"
She bit her lip, turning on the rich guy.
"Umm. Because my missus really wants this to go well"
Aiden nodded approvingly.
"Have you asked her why?"
She shook her head.
He decided to let it be, but not without a favor.
"I swear I won't make a scene, fine?"
Those admirable lips lit up in a smile, one that tightened the cheeks and jaws. He almost cummed.
"But I need something in return..."
Her blue eyes glazed.
"Anything of my service, sir"
Aiden sneered.
"Come to my office tomorrow. We can have a talk. A fun one, I assure you"
A quiver ran through her figure.
The silence pitter-pattered, while a man and a woman stood, staring at each other.
One in a sudden trauma while the other in a strange fluttering.
