Enchanting Don Carter

CHAPTER THREE

Olivia dabbed more concealer under her eyes, hoping to cover the three hours of restless sleep etched into her eye bags. Her limbs felt heavy, exhaustion coursing through her veins, but this was the first Monday she had ever looked forward to.

She had spent the weekend absorbing every scrap of information she could find on Carter Enterprises and its enigmatic leader. No one had seen him since he was a toddler, apparently abducted by a relative according to sparse sources. She felt a faint tug of sympathy for the child he once was, but she squashed it, reminding herself of the callous man he had become.

She took the first bus to the stop, a few meters from the office. She stood at the front of the parking lot taking a careful look at the building, towering high in the sky, this was it. Once she walked in, the answers to her questions would unfold one after the other, they had to.

Her heart raced as she approached the entrance, several guards lined at the front, standing at attention. She nodded as she passed them, keeping her head held high despite the wobbling in her knees. Their smiles unsettled her more.

Olivia followed the receptionist’s directions, taking the elevator to the third floor. There, outside a door marked HR in gold letters, she found a crowd of applicants. They were busy practicing potential answers, altering their outfits and Olivia suddenly felt out of place amongst them. She motioned to sit down when the door opened, and a woman’s voice asked “Miss Bowie?”

Olivia looked at her and nodded. “Come with me,” she said, her expression flat, as she led Olivia out the back door of the room, into the narrow hallway.

As Olivia stepped through the iron door, ornamented with gold carvings of a lion, eagle and wolf, she immediately questioned whether she was still in the building. The place felt more like a palace than an office. Her eyes scanned the room, taking in the beautiful landscape of the intricately sculpted pop ceilings. A massive chandelier hung over the center table where a huge vase of orchids and gladioli stood boldly.

“Miss Bowie?” the woman’s low voice pulled her from her wonder. Olivia turned her attention to her, watching as the woman gestured toward a staircase leading deeper into the building. She swallowed, beads of sweat forming on her forehead.

The woman led her up the stairs, her feet hesitating with every step she took forward. Where were they going? Why was she the only one called out to follow? What had she gotten herself into? Olivia noticed as the temperature started to betray the outside climate. Her body quivered from the cold, and she slowly started to feel like a hostage. She thought about Julia, alone and scared, and that was enough to return energy to her pace. She briskly followed the woman down the hall, halting at the front of a big black door.

Olivia took a deep breath, gripping the strap of her sling bag. “He is waiting for you,” the woman says flatly, before turning and disappearing into the darkness of the hallway without another word. He? Her mind raced. Could it be … him? Maybe the head of HR is a he? Olivia stood still, staring at the door, contemplating what awaited on the other side. If it was Don Carter, she was ready to meet him, even if it meant that she could get hurt. She was already in his lair and did not plan to leave without answers - without Julia.

The doors swung open, and two stunning ladies dressed in tailored butler attires bowed and ushered her in. Their deep red lipstick gleamed under the fluorescent lights, making her squirm in her dress as she stepped inside. She felt their eyes on her for a moment before they stepped back, heads still lowered as the ladies exited the room without another glance. The heavy doors clicked shut and she gasped. In the dim light, she noticed a massive artwork of a bald eagle etched securely on both doors. The puzzle-like parts seamlessly fit together, yet looked oddly out of place.

Oh, this is it, this is how I die.

There was a long dining table centered around more seats than people present. She watched the waiters busily engage themselves with setting the table, as she took her seat, somewhere in the middle. She stared blankly at the gold capital DC letters in cursive style on the white porcelain plate that had been set in front of her. Her thumb went to work on her nails, peeling off the polish in a futile attempt to distract herself. Around her, the clatter of the cutlery and hushed murmurs of the men in black and white filled the air, each sound a reminder that she was in his world now.

The clattering suddenly seized, leaving a deafening silence that made Olivia hear her heartbeat radically beating. She looked up, her eyes tracing to see the waiters standing at the far end of the table in a straight line, as still as statues. She could hear footsteps approaching, steady and deliberately paced. Each step echoed, almost in sync with the pounding of her heartbeat.

Olivia’s fingers gripped the napkin on her lap, twisting it until the fabric tore into her skin. She took a sharp breath and forced herself to turn toward the sound, readying herself for what was coming.

A man in an all-black suit, shirt and tie opened the door and stood to the side in a practiced movement. The door remained wide open and a frame appeared in view, it was a man, and boy, was he tall.

“You are all dismissed” his throaty voice filled the room and the waiters scurried out, sending hurried bows his way. Olivia found herself unable to look away from his face as he stepped into the light. The fullness of his lips, his sharp jawline, bushy eyebrows and piercing eyes that seemed to assess the whole room at one glance. God really does have his favorites. She mentally cautioned herself, repulsed at her regard for his looks.

No one deserved such flawless facial symmetry, especially not someone like him. And yet, she surprised herself as she continued to examine his face, memorizing each angle as if he were a work of art she both resented but couldn’t resist studying. His towering figure glided around the room, the echoes of his shoes on the polished floor sending involuntary shivers through her body. Olivia watched his back, her mouth slightly ajar as she caught a glimpse of the soft glow in his thick brown hair under the fluorescent light. As she began to exhale, she jumped in her chair - he was standing in front of her.

His gaze swept over her face, lasting for a second too long, before trailing down, studying her with a look that was as intense as it was distressing. She felt exposed, like a bug under a microscope, every nerve on edge. She forced herself to look back, feigning bravery in a bid to mask her quickened pulse, but his eyes held a quiet authority that seemed to pin her in place. “You must be Olivia” The low timber of his voice was more statement than question, one she sensed not to answer. He knew who she was. The man she had spent four days obsessing over, the one she had grown to despise, already knew her name.

“Yes” she replied, her voice barely a whisper “… Sir” she quickly added as his gaze traveled down to her feet.

“You need some help getting your jaw off the floor?” He asked, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. Olivia hated how immobilized she found herself in his presence. His actions and words worked like a neutralizer, her body and mouth betraying her as she froze under his inspection. He turned a chair to face her, sitting mere inches away.

This man put a bag over Julia’s head, he is your enemy. She reminded herself, fixing her gaze on him as her face gathered in a frown.

“I know why you are here”. He crossed his legs, fingers tapping rhythmically on the table in a calculated, almost entrancing beat.

“It is very brave, what you have done” his words felt like a warning rather than a compliment.

“I.. I do not understand you sir”, Olivia swallowed hard, her throat tightening as she looked away.

“You are here for your friend” he casually said, as if discussing the weather. “Are you not?” Olivia’s eyes widened, a knot of dread tightening in her stomach, as he rose from the chair.

“What will it be, Miss Bowie?” He bent down, his breath a hot unnerving presence on the nape of her neck. “Have you come to join her or take her place?”

She felt her nerves vibrate as her skin erupted in goosebumps. The side of her head throbbed, and she could feel her pulse quicken, but she knew she couldn’t back down now, no matter what.