Charmed by the Villain

Chapter Three: I WILL GO AGAIN

"Hi, good morning," Margaret said, smiling to the security personnel placed at the entrance of ELIZA. She was dressed in a short orange designer gown that fitted her body, which was given to her by her cousin on her last birthday. The gown was the most expensive of all her wears; obviously she wanted to make a better impression. She packed her hair into a ponytail, and her dressing was complemented with shiny short-heeled shoes to match. One would think she was going for a job interview. Luckily for Margaret, the men that threw her out the other day were not the ones on duty.

"Morning ma’am" The security personnel beam a smile at her. His teeth were impeccably white, and he lightened Margaret’s mood.

Margaret responded to his greetings with a smile, and he held open the automated door for her. She made her way into the building and approached the receptionist's desk.

"Hi, good morning," Margaret uttered. Her heart skipped immediately when she saw that it was the same woman that attended to her the last time. She hoped she wouldn't recognize her and dismiss her out.

"Morning, ma'am, how may we help you?" The receptionist answered warmly and got Margaret fluttered. Did she not recognize her, or was it her refined appearance that made her treat her with such respect? She mistook her for some important personality? Oh! Elena's advice really held some substance! She thought.

"I want to see the managing director, please," she said, trying to maintain enough composure.

"Do you have an appointment with him?"

"Yes..I mean...No...." Margaret stammered.

"Excuse me?"

"I do not have an appointment. This meeting with him is urgent and unplanned."

"Okay. You would have to go through his personal assistant then. Let me put a call through to him. Have a seat," the receptionist said, pointing in the direction of the elegant executive chairs.

"Thank you," Margaret said and sat down anxiously. Seated beside her was a middle-aged woman and an Arabian dressed in an expensive kaftan embellished with golden jewelry. Beside her were two gentlemen in fashionable suits, deeply engrossed in their mobile devices. Margaret discerned that these people were likely esteemed clients of the company, and to a certain extent, she felt inferior. She brought out her phone and surfed it randomly to reduce the tensioned atmosphere.

"Hello.. are you here to see Dr. P.S. too?" The Arabian woman asked, turning to face her. Her English accent sounded awkward, but it was fluent and understandable.

" Pardon?. Dr. P.S? Who is that?"

"Dr. Percival Smith. The managing director."

"Oh...." Margaret muttered as reality struck her. "Yeah sure."

"You know, I would advise you to start leaving," the woman said.

"What?...why?!" Margaret queried.

"I heard when you told that lady you are not here on appointment. I do have an appointment with him, and I have been sitting here for five hours now. That man is so full of himself. Can you believe he has been telling me and twelve other people seated here to wait that he is busy?! He hasn't even stepped out yet; he didn't allow any of us to come in to him." The woman narrated to Margaret. It felt as though she was frustrated already and needed to let out her displeasure to someone.

"Twelve other people? But there are only four of us seated here waiting."

The woman laughed hysterically, after which her countenance swiftly changed to a serious demeanor. “Well, that's because the initial eight individuals left here in frustration after enduring a wait of over four hours, which is why I told you to stop wasting your time," the woman said.

Margaret exhaled deeply in dismay and got discouraged. She wondered if meeting this man full of attitude would be possible for her. She despised him and wished she could just teach him a lesson of his life for maltreating her a few days ago.

"B..ut. shouldn't he...."

"And why would you even come here without an appointment to meet P.S? He is not that considerate," the woman said and resumed back to reading the book she was initially engrossed with. Margaret glanced at the front cover of the book she was reading, and it was inscribed, "Different ways to gain more weight."

She stared at the woman again, inspecting her body, and discovered she was already robust. Why would she want to gain more weight? Margaret thought astonished. Anyway, that was none of her business and the least of her worries.

"Uhm.. Thanks for your information. But has his P.A...." Margaret resumed talking to the woman, but then she stopped when she found out she was already engrossed with the book in her hands.

At that instant, the lady receptionist signaled to her, and she went over to her desk.

"I have put a call through to his personal assistant and..."The receptionist stopped as if remembering something. "Your face looks familiar. Have we met before?!. You have been coming here before, right?"

"Me?...uhm...no" Margaret scoffed, trying to fake a laugh. "You must be mistaken. Definitely."

"Oh. Well. I do have a great sense of remembrance, but right now it has forsaken me. What's your name?"

"My name? You need my name?"

"Of course."

"My name is Anastasia Williams," she lied.

"Anastasia. Well, there are multiple Anastasias I have met, but definitely not you. Anyways .. I have spoken with his personal assistant, and he told me that you would have to come back. The MD is busy right now, and when he is done, he will have to attend to those that have been waiting for him on appointments."

"Oh..no" Margaret uttered.

"Uhh. Thank God he at least remembers us." The Arabian woman on the seat scoffed under her breath, rolling her eyes.

"Do tell him that we are running out of patience!" One of the men on the seat uttered out loudly to the receptionist.

"He would be done in forty five minutes. So kindly hold on," the receptionist said.

The Arabian woman shrugged. She had been on seat for five hours. Surely, forty-five minutes isn't too much time to waste.

Margaret felt dispirited but still proceeded to sit down and decide on what next to do. In the midst of her rumination, Percival was coming towards them; he seemed to be in a hurry and on a phone conversation. Margaret felt her heart skipbeat sighting him; he exuded an aura of masculine charm. How could a man be so beautiful and yet so ruthless? Margaret thought.

"Yes father. I am coming. I will be with you shortly, he uttered.

All the people waiting for him, including Margaret, rose to their feet’.

"Hello. Dr. Percival: "T The man in suit quicklmuttered, hoping he wasn't going out and leaving them.

"Hi. How may I help you?" Percival asked.

They were startled; he actually asked them that.

"How may you help us? We have been waiting here for you for the past five hours!" The Arabian woman said, raising her voice.

"Oh.... Sorry about that. I have been busy. However, I need to get somewhere. I will be back in an hour. I will attend to you all by then if you can be patient, and if you can't, you are free to leave," she said bluntly and moved closer to the lady receptinist.

"Helen"

"Yes, sir," the receptionist answered.

"Send a message to Gigi Holdings. Their appointments with them holdtonight. If they can't meet up, tell them to forget about it." He uttered and walked away in quick paces.

"Such an attitude!" The Arabian woman muttered, closing the book she was reading, Outraged.

Margaret watched him leave in a hurry and did not know what else to do. She doubted if he even noticed she was on seat.Here she was sitting down with no appointments with him whatsoever, and their previous meeting did not end on good terms. She stood up and headed out. She did not know where the courage came from, but she ran towards him as he was about to open his car door and quickly kneeled down at his feet.

"Hi, sir," Margaret uttered. "Please. Please help me."

Percival was fluttered and uttered with disdain, "Hey, what do you think you are doing?! You are trying to embarrass me?"

"No. Sir. Please. I just need your help."

Percival stared at her carefully, and his memory did not disappoint him.

"You are Benedict Smith's daughter?!" He asked, suddenly fuming with anger.