Chapter 7
890 Words
“Oh my gosh! You look breathtaking.” Eloise commented as I swiveled around to face her.
“Thank you, Adele.” I smiled gratefully at the stylist who had given me a makeover.
Tonight was the birthday party, and Xander’s secretary had arrived several hours ago with a stylist and a new dress for me. It was a black, halternecked, backless dress. My heels were gold, the same color as my accessories.
“Em?” Eloise called as she helped me tie my heel straps. “Remember my bff? The one I told you about?”
“Penelope?” I cracked my brain.
“Yes! She's back in the country, and this time, she's here to stay. I'm super excited!” She squealed.
“We have so much catching up to do. Will you join us after you're back from the dinner? She's sleeping over.”
I was about to respond when Avery, Xander's assistant, walked in.
“Miss Emery,” She handed me the phone. “Mr. Ross is on the line.”
She left the room as I pressed the phone to my ear, shooting Emery an apologetic look.
“Have you gone through the document thoroughly?” Xander's voice came immediately.
“Yes, Mr. Ross. I'm ready for whatever question they'll shoot at me.”
“Mr. Ross?” I could picture him frowning.
“Avery calls you that, and you made me know yesterday that I was your employee. It's only right I call you the same, isn't it? I solemnly detest favoritism.” Eloise snickered beside me.
“Don't call me that.”
“But I'm your employee?” I whined.
There was silence at his end, and I could imagine him pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration. That was my favorite look on him. I laughed evilly inside.
“Say the word, Mr. Ross, and I'll stop.”
“Fine! You are not my employee.” I was taken aback by the ease with which he gave in.
“I'm your what?” I pressed on, enjoying myself a little too much. For some reason, my voice came out unintentionally small.
“Business partner.” I could bet my last penny that he rolled his eyes when he said that. A smile stretched across my face.
“I've given your unsolicited opinion a thought and I have planned something for today… aside from the dinner.”
My brows shot up. “Really?!”
“After the dinner, we are meeting my grandfather at a restaurant. It will be a publicity stunt, of course, there'll be reporters strategically present to take pictures.”
I blinked. Did I hear wrong? “Did you say your grandfather? We are lying to him, too?!”
He paused. “You haven't realized that?”
I sighed. Of course, we were lying to the whole world, even his own family.
He continued. “It's going to be a very long night, so clear your schedule — oh, I forgot, you are jobless.”
I threw the phone an icy glare. “I believe the preferred term is currently unemployed.”
I heard the pattering of keyboard keys in the background. “Wait, are you at work right now? It's seven pm on a Friday night! Are you no longer the boss?”
“I did not make Ross group the largest conglomerate on the continent by playing away my time.”
I shrugged, “Isn't the whole point of being the boss the ability to take days off and close at any time?”
There was a brief silence. “I find it hard to come up with a less harsh word that can describe the way your mind works.”
I refused to pay attention to the underlying insult in his retort. “I'm happy to know I make you speechless.”
There was a shuffling of papers on his end. “The car will pick you up in thirty.”
Then, he ended the call.
“Aren't you guys just the cutest?” Eloise giggled. “Those banters, I've never seen anyone speak to my brother like that. It's honestly refreshing.”
I shrugged. “Guess I can't make the sleepover now. Tonight is going to be a long one.”
She bobbed her head. “Yeah, heard you were meeting with my granddad.”
I sighed. “I feel bad that we'll be lying to him, too. Can't we just come clean to him, at least? What's the worst that could happen?”
“Trust me, Christopher Ross is the last person who should know about this. And please, don't paint him like an helpless old man, my grandfather is anything but that. In fact, I think you should be more worried about yourself right now.”
“Why?” I blinked.
“Christopher Ross can sniff a crumb of apple pie from two continents away. He's infamous for his quick wit; he's going to grill you bad until you tell him every one of your deep, dark secrets.”
I pursed. “Your words scare me, but I'm craving some apple pie too.”
“Hm, that was some good metaphor, wasn't it?”
“It was.” I bobbed my head, willing myself not to think about meeting the tough Christopher Ross.
- Writer
