EPISODE3:LUCAS HAYES
1207 Words
Madeline
The elevator doors slid open, and I walked out, joining the crowd in the large lobby. I walked across the glittering, shiny floor when someone sidled beside me.
"How're you holding up?"
I turned to see my father, and a little gasp left me. "Dad?"
Two men in well-tailored suits walked past us.
"I noticed your mind wasn't in the meeting." He commented.
I shrugged. "I thought the solicitation for funds would happen in the meeting."
He chuckled. "That's why there is a ball. We'd be doing the solicitation there. Trust me, when happiness is in the house, people would be willing to help."
I nodded as we walked outside to meet the glaring sun. I shielded my face momentarily as we took a few steps down and crossed the road. I rounded the car and slid inside.
Moments later, we arrived at the venue for the ball. Unlike myself, my father was hopeful that somehow we would get people to support the business, but I was the clear opposite. The messages we got in the mail days ago were too discouraging, so I doubt it would get any better.
The party hadn't fully begun when we walked inside, but the people huddled in groups, chatting in hushed tones. I took in the crowd present when my father's voice came through.
"Davina, I think we should divide and conquer. What do you think?"
My eyes darted across the building. Some people stood alone, sipping drinks; some sat in pairs, chatting and laughing, and the rest were huddled in groups.
"I think I'll take the loners and the pairs. You should handle the group."
He nodded and stuttered off. I inhaled deeply, then walked towards a woman with short gray hair and a face folded in sharp wrinkles.
"Greetings, ma'am." I stretched my hands towards the older woman. "It's a pleasure to meet you."
She eyed my hands warily before she took it. "Pleasure to meet you too."
I glanced around, then met her gaze. "How is it going for you?"
She released the loudest sigh I've ever heard. "Not so well for me. I wish my son was in town. He knows his way around here better than anyone. Not so for me." She concluded, shaking her head, then narrowed her gaze at me. "You don't look so well."
I narrowed my gaze at her. "Uh…was it that obvious?"
She snickered softly. "Young lady, I have a granddaughter of your age back in the house. Trust me when I tell you that you're not looking great. Is it something I can help with."
I took in a silent breath. "The Holts are looking for investors. Anything from a half a million will go a long way."
She crumpled her face in a grimace. "I'm sorry, young lady, but the company is currently having a downtime lately. We are currently not at the point of investing in other companies."
**********
"We would appreciate all the help we can get. Holt's Cosmetics could use the money." I pleaded to a bald man in a pinstripe suit. He wore a grimace.
"I'm sorry, but we are low on cash now." He shook his head. "We are also looking for investors too."
*********
The other people I met were the same. Some of them who knew us advised us to declare bankruptcy and start again, while others offered their condolences. Tired of the outcome, I scanned the crowd for my dad.
He was still talking with a group, and while he smiled at them, the smile was mechanical. Behind his smile was frustration. I watched him momentarily as he shook hands with the group of five, then strolled across before his gaze caught mine. He retraced his steps and headed over my way.
"How did it go?"
"Negative." I shook my head. A female steward breezed past, and my dad plucked two glasses from her tray and offered me one. I took it from him and took a little sip, the cocktail washing over my tongue, reflecting luxury.
He folded his lips and nodded. "Now's not the time to give up. Trust me, I know for sure that the salvaging of The Holts will happen in this ball."
I nodded slowly at him, and then he strutted away. I was too frustrated to continue soliciting, so I swirled the wine in my glass, considering our options.
The Holts had been the family's business, and according to my father, the company began with my grandfather. He had many sons, and after a business test he gave his children, my father passed the test, so the company was handed over to him, but his siblings became careless.
The family feud went so wild that it resulted in a severe customer decline. My father, in an attempt to restore equity, made a poor income distribution across the wings of Holt's Cosmetics. At first, the finances rose sporadically, but after six months, everything went down.
"Hey?" A male whisper broke through. I managed not to flinch. "You're doing okay there?"
I took a glance at him. For a moment, his brown eyes bore into me, concerned. The light in the hall reflected off his bald head. Wide shoulder and broad shirt were decorated in a well-tailored tux, bowtie hanging below a well-shaved stubble. My breath hitched, but I hit it. "I'm fine."
"You don't look so sure about that." He came to a stop before me.
"I'm fine." I held his gaze, giving him a neutral gaze.
"I'm Lucas."
I did a double-take, and my father's conversation came back to mind. "…The CEO of Softcore corporations called. We talked, and he promised to get back to me."
I assumed the stoic-headed man running Softcore Corporations was Mr. Lucas Hayes, but I wasn't so sure. And the possibility of having a few Lucas in this ball was imminent. Probably, this is not the Lucas of Soft Corporations.
I stretched my hand and took his. "Madeline."
He nodded approvingly, taking me in. I avoided his gaze, and he turned to the crowd, chit-chatting at every corner.
"You know, sometimes, I wonder how everyone here still have money to spend, while they complain about the economy."
I shrugged. "People get things done if they have to. And Pearson's conference is more like a yearly tradition. Either way, things have to be done."
I felt his gaze on my temple but didn't return it. After a while, he looked away, his voice returning.
"Well, I guess a little play wouldn't hurt."
I turned to him as he sipped his drink, not sparing me a glance.
"I don't believe in work and play." I continued. "There is a specific time for work and a specific time for play."
"Educate me."
I turned to meet his gaze head-on. "I like fun, don't get me wrong. But things could go wrong when you mix play and work together."
He took another sip of his drink, wagging a finger at me. "I like you. What company do you work for?"
"Well—"
"Mr. Hayes?" My father's voice stopped me halfway. I glanced between my father and the man, my eyes growing wild. I've been talking with The CEO of Softcore Corporation.
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