Loving Alpha Brandon

Chapter Three

It wasn't the major motive, but she needed the paycheck. Her bills were stacked and there was no hope of getting them covered without this. It was no meagre cut and it was surely going to bail her out of a lot.

Most importantly, it was supposed to be the turn around job for her, the job to get her name slipped back into the industry and if merited, hall of fame. It was her dream job. Her reentry into the market would be grand. But it was getting impossible to pull off, with this enormous budget and with this time frame. She wasn't stable enough, she feared.

The chair was beginning to get hard on her butt so she shifted on her stance. She had been glued here for the past two days Hans shuffling between a now cold coffee mug and her laptop keys as she tried to make reservations and all other presentations without moving from the chair. But outdoor work was closing in on her. She could easily be duped and she wanted to make sure that everything was perfect. So she finally decided to step out.

She got up for a stretch. Her unopened mail stared back at her. She sighed. Not today! She knew their content and it wasn't pleasurable. It was written boldly on the envelopes in red stamp. Evict Notice! Water Bill! Gas Bill! Electricity! It was a matter of time before she was kicked out. Getting through with this job was important.

The first step was to get cleaned up. After a quick shower, she put on her best attire. It was her first time stepping outside in months since the funeral, the first time she became involved in the rush of Willowbrook in a long while.

It always baffled Rosie. Willowbrook was a small town yet the streets were always littered with people. They trutted around in coats, some watchful enough to keep an umbrella closely in case the clouds get sad. Even in the dull cloudy atmosphere, parks which were one of the village's mot renowned belongings. Good for lovers, good for friends.

Rosie drank it all in on her way to handle work. It smelt nice, for a moment she even felt alive.

Her first stop would be the caterer's. She'd called before coming but but hadn't gotten a response yet. A bell dinged as she pushed the door open. The receptionist rolled her eyes as soon as she spotted Rosie staring at their cakes.

"Welcome, Mrs Rosie. How can we help you?"

Rosie's eyes lowered to her bane tag. Victoria was written boldly. She looked up. Victoria's attitude wasn't strange. This was the third time she'd gotten this reaction. She'd phoned two other shops before this and this wasn't dissmilar to how they'd acted.

"I need a cake."

"Do you see anything that catches your fancy?

"No."

"Ma'am, I have customers waiting. Just pick from what's on display."

Rosie sighed, bringing out a paper from her purse. She was words away from losing her cool. "I have a list of things I need. It shows how specifically the cake should be. I need this in a week."

"That'll be 10,000…"

"I need to see the manager!" She yelled, cutting the receptionist off. News must have gone out she'd bagged jaw dropping clients.

"I am the manager. I'm afraid I won't be able to help you. Please pay that amount!"

Rosie wanted to rip her into shreds but swallowrd her rage. She walked out the door hurriedly and blindly, heading straight into a hard chest and arms that caught her just as she was about hitting the floor. Her phone leapg off, kissing the floor with a thud.

"I'm so sorry," a deep voice whispered as she was helped to her feet.

"Are you blind? Watch where you're going!" She yelled, grabbing her phone. She inspected the screen for any cracks.

"You are one to talk! Didn't you run into me? Now my shirt is all ruined."

Rosie looked up to see him for the first time. He'd been hit worse. His vintage shirt was soaked in coffee, the remnant of the beverage in a cup steaming.

"Oh, don't sob. You'll get a new one. Besides, my phone is worth more than some stupid shirt!"

"Next time put your phone in your pocket."

"There won't be a next time!" Rosie said walking off. She had too much on her head to dwell on some clumsy pedestrians lamentations.

Rosie was headed to her office. Sylvia had been there two days ago cleaning up. It had been abandoned for so long it'd turned into a a tent for spiders and ab army of dust. It took a lot of scrub to get the room back in shape.

It was on the third floor. The apartment to her right was unoccupied. To The left was a printing press. She hadn't been here in months. Imagine the shock on everyone's face seeing her join them in the elevator. No one said a word but their thoughts were loud enough, their stares were clear. She ignored them getting off the elevator and into her office. That fresh scent hit her nostrils and she smiled. Her first of the day. Shutting the door, she relaxed into her seat, the squeaky leather stretching just enough to suspend her weight. Just as she'd kicked off her shoes and let her feet on the table, a knock on the door startled her. She strolled lazily to the door.

"You again!" They exclaimed simultaneously.

It was the guy from outside the bakery, this time in a green shirt which exposed some part of his hairy chest. He held a vase of roses which smelt freah.

"You followed me back to my office, you freak?"

"I just moved into the office next door. If I knew you were a grumpy neighbour, I wouldn't even bother coming over."

Rosie scoffed. "I don't want your roses, bye."

She closed the door in his face. He knocked. The day had just gone from bad to worse. She opened the door to see a stern face.

"Is that how you treat strangers?" He asked.