Disclaimer: All characters in this fanfiction belong to Warner Bros. Studios, apart for Monty's family.
Author's Note: Hey, just a quick aside, but I would really appreciate it if, after you read the story, you leave a comment and state your opinions. As a young author I seek to improve my writing and so I'd love to hear what my readers have to say, even if it's constructive criticism or praise. Thank you! :))
Chapter 8
Retorts and Reports
4th Dec
Lydia paced nervously around her office, her mind overflowing with thoughts and worries. Her heavy footsteps filled the empty room with their chilling echo and the only other sound beside that was the slow ticking of a clock hung on one of the white, tall walls. Together, they formed a symphony of worry and anxiety, one that perfectly encapsulated how Lydia felt at that moment.
After a few more steps, she stopped and glanced at the clock. Nine and a half in the morning. 'Where is he?! He should have been here half an hour ago!'
Just as she finished that thought, there was a light knock on the door. Taking a seat at her desk and placing her forehead in her hand, she mumbled a weary, barely audible 'Come in'. The door opened and she lifted her eyes in order to find one of the secretaries looking at her anxiously.
"Has he arrived yet, Miss?" She asked in a soft voice.
"What does it look like to you?!" She snapped at her and the woman flinched.
"Well, um, Director Max sent me here to tell you that, since you have proposed that his son should come here today and do the reports with you, he's your responsibility. He also said if he doesn't arrive soon, you will be to blame." The secretary finished and braced herself for another possible outburst.
But none came. Instead, Lydia closed her eyes, inhaled and gestured for the woman to get out. The door closed with an audible crack and, once again, the only sound in the quietness of the room was the ticking of the clock.
Lydia got up from her desk and turned around. Behind her, where the fourth white wall should have been, a giant window replaced it. Slowly, she walked towards it and leaned onto the glass, gazing outside, at the bustling city beneath her.
December had arrived in Acme Acres, sprinkling its cold, white stars all over the city. Soon, autumn's shades of red and orange drowned in a sea of white and silver that covered everything, from the cold earth to the tallest buildings. It was a truly wonderful display, as if the town was tangled in a cloud, flowing endlessly in the clear blue sky. It was truly a marvelous sight, which caught the attention of many citizens. Some people, walking down the street, would stop every few minutes to admire the snowy spectacle happening around them. Others, who were tucked in in their warm and cozy homes, gazed out the window and watched the snowflakes dancing in their icy dresses, until they landed on the pavement and merged with the rest of the snow.
But Lydia couldn't pay attention to the winter wonderland unfolding in front of her. Although she was staring at the snow-covered buildings and streets, her thoughts were as far away from there as they could have been.
It was Saturday, 4th of December, nine and forty minutes in the morning. Currently, she was in her office, on the 70th floor, in the tallest building in Acme Acres, Max Corporation Headquarters and she was waiting for her nephew to get there, so they could start doing the reports. The problem was that Monty was late. And not only that, but now the blame was about to fall all onto her. Taking a deep breath, Lydia tried to calm her nerves down a bit. He will get there soon. He had to! It wasn't like he had a choice; this was his punishment after all.
'But what if he doesn't get here soon enough?' an unwanted voice whispered in her mind. 'What if Richard loses his calm and you fall as the scapegoat? And just after he praised you a few days ago. . .' She shook her head rapidly, as if trying to banish the ugly thought. No, no. She had to get a grip. If she didn't, she might lose her head. And, if there was one thing she had learnt all these years from the cruel business world, was to never lose your head.
Just then, the door behind her opened again. It must have been the secretary again. Feeling annoyance bubble inside of her, Lydia turned around, ready to tell the woman to get out. However, when she came to face the door, she realized that the person who entered her office was not the secretary. It wasn't even a woman in the first place, but an elegant, tuxedoed man, smiling smugly at her.
"Well, well. Your office is a little emptier than it should be, isn't it Lydia?" Nigel asked mockingly. "Say, where's your little assistant?"
Lydia's teeth gritted. "Get out of my office. Now!"
"Aw, come on, sis. Is this the right way to talk to your beloved brother?" Said Nigel, positively enjoying her anger.
"It is the right way to talk to a scoundrel like you!"
But Nigel didn't look the slightest bit offended by the insult. Instead, he let out a scornful laugh. "Oh, really? Well, dear, at least this scoundrel can do his job right. You, on the other hand, can't even make sure your 'helper' gets here on time. Some mentor you are."
The last sentence made the woman tremble with rage. Her teeth clenched even tighter, and her face was so red, she seemed ready to explode.
"Last warning, Nigel. Get. Out." She growled at him, venom dripping from every word.
"Whatever you want, Liddy." The man said nonchalantly, his tone, however, still holding a note of irony.
Nigel walked out of the room, Lydia still glaring daggers after him. Just as he grabbed the door handle and was about to shut it, he stopped and looked again at his furious sister.
"Oh, and Lydia, just so you know, before I decided to pay you a little visit, I was just finishing one of the reports. One of the many more that I have done this morning. And you?" With that, he closed the door and the last thing Lydia saw before finding herself alone in her office again, was the taunting smirk plastered on her brother's face.
Feeling like she wanted to both scream and punch something (or rather someone), Lydia turned away from the door and marched towards the window. She pressed a closed fist to the glass and shut her eyes tightly. Nigel's mocking words still echoed in her head, and, beneath the mantle of anger, there was another feeling lingering inside of her; a twisted, stomach-churning feeling, worse than anything: humiliation. It was the same one she had felt all those years ago, when she was a teenager and her Father had rejected her for one of the powerful positions at the corporation, placing her in one of the most miserable departments. She hated this feeling and the memory that came with it. For the millionth time that morning, Lydia took a deep breath and - with a remarkable amount of self-control - she managed to keep herself collected. If she ever got her hands on that nephew of hers. . .
Just then, the telephone on her desk rang, making her jump. After regaining her composure, she walked back to the table and picked it up.
"Yes." She answered sharply. From the other line came her secretary's voice.
"Ma'am, he's here."
Lydia's grip on the phone loosened and for a second, she thought she was, for sure, going to drop it. Her breath caught in her throat, she muttered, "I'll be down in a minute."
Slamming the receiver onto its support, Lydia almost ran to the door. She took a split second to straighten her expensive jacket and make sure her hair bun was intact, before swinging it open and dashing outside.
The hallway on the 70th floor could not be described as anything other than white and quiet. Bright lamps hung from the ceiling, reflecting their blinding light on the immaculate tile floor, making it seem as if the hall itself was an illumination source. The only spots of color were a few doors that led to a conference room (one of the many in the building), more offices, way smaller than Lydia's, where four of five employees worked crammed up together (Richard thought this was a good idea, in order to save up space) and a bathroom. Not all people on the floor could use it, though. Some, whose ranks were not as high as others', had to use the restroom on the floor beneath.
Lydia hurried down the hall, past all the doors, and towards the end of the corridor, where the elevator was, her footsteps echoing in the silence. She pressed the button, then waited impatiently, for what seemed like hours. As she watched the red numbers on the little screen above the doors get higher and higher, Lydia couldn't suppress a sigh of relief. It felt as if an immense weight had just been lifted off her chest. Monty finally arriving meant that they could at last get started with the reports and - probably most importantly - that Richard would not be mad. At least, so she hoped.
With an audible DING!, the elevator announced it was there. Its fast doors were made of glass, so Lydia was able to see the people inside (not that there were that many, only four). The moment the employees saw her and realized that it was Lydia Max who had called the elevator, their eyes widened with obvious fear. A second later, the glass doors opened and all of them scurried outside as quickly as they could. Some of them weren't even on the right floor, but it didn't matter; they still hurriedly exited, their heads bowed, not daring to make eye contact with one of the most powerful people in the company. Lydia, meanwhile, watched them with an impassive expression on her face.
When the last person was out of the lift, Lydia stepped inside, not wasting a single glance on them. As the glass doors closed, she kept her cold, uncaring demeanor, and gazed straight forward, right through the intimidated employees, that still avoided looking at her. There was another DING!, and the elevator started descending.
Lydia had to muster all her inner strength to not crack a satisfied smile. This was all she had ever wanted; all she had aspired for. Since she was just a little girl, she would come here to the company, along with most of her family, in order to learn for her future job and prepare to take her place. Every time she had the occasion, Lydia watched her Father and her Uncle Fred - twins and founders of the Max Corporation - walking down the hallway, tall and proud, as anyone in their place should have been. With each step, the earth seemed to shake and everyone, employees, secretaries, janitors, would step aside and let them through, a mixture of fear and respect in their eyes. Occasionally, some would mutter a greeting or bow their head a little, but neither her Father or her Uncle looked in their direction. Instead, they kept walking, head held high, an impenetrable and icy expression on their faces.
Lydia, who had always looked up to both men, especially to her Father, always watched in awe, admiring the power with which they glowed, the fear they instilled and wished with all her being that someday, that would be her. Someday, Lydia Max would walk in the halls of this company, her company and everyone would step aside, as if they could feel the power she was emitting.
Seeing as she was alone, Lydia allowed herself to close her eyes and let her mind guide her back to those days of her childhood and youth. Those times spent with her siblings and cousin around the company, learning how the business world worked, were probably the only memories of her and her family that could count as fun. Lydia could recall being around six and playing tag in the hallways, then inevitably breaking something or hitting someone. Usually, it was Richard's or Nigel's fault, since they were the restless troublemakers, but she had her moments, too. Once, she had broken an entire glass door, while playing with Gabriel. Her younger brother, who was running away from her, entered an office and slammed the door behind him - a door made of glass. Lydia, who was right behind him, chasing him with a chair in her hands, smashed right into it, reducing it to shards of glass. Her Father had not been happy with them. Or, another time, when she hid in a conference room, right before a meeting, just so she could get a glimpse of that unknown, exciting world of adults. But, for the most part, Lydia managed to stay out of trouble. That could not be said for her older brothers, though.
Richard and Nigel were the employees' terror. Not only that they broke expensive stuff multiple times, but they also played pranks on the janitors, hid under desks, so they could jump and scare whoever was unlucky enough to take a seat there and - when they became older - tried to look under the skirts of the female interns. However, when their Father gave them that look, they would immediately behave.
Back then, Richard was still just a boy - ambitious and self-driven, true - but incomparable and unrecognizable with the cold, distant man he was today. At that time, he wasn't very different from Monty, as all he cared about was having fun, flaunting his money, bragging to those who listened and making his Father proud. The latter was on all of their lists, of course, but with Richard there was even more pressure, since he was the eldest. Nigel had mostly remained the same. Even when he was young, he was still a smart aleck, Richard's partner in crime - if a bit more mischievous - and loved to mock his younger siblings. Nigel also had a way with words that not even Richard did, and he could be unbelievably charming when he wanted to.
Gabriel hadn't changed since he was a child. Shy, insecure and fragile, both physically and mentally, that's how Lydia remembered him and always saw him as. They didn't have the best relationship, even as kids. True, they had played together as children and, sometimes, Gabriel would follow her around, since she was among the only ones in that family that didn't make fun of him or belittled him. This wasn't because she thought highly of him, but because she didn't really see the point of it. But, other than that, she couldn't say that they were very close. As for Charles. . . well, given the fact that he had moved to England, along with Uncle Fred and Aunt Pauline, when she was only eight, Lydia couldn't say she shared many childhood memories with her cousin. Maybe she remembered a few bits of them playing amongst the others, but that was it.
Truth to be told, Lydia had been a rather solitary child and not very attached to anyone. The only one in her family she had felt somewhat close to was that person. . . As soon as that thought crossed her head, she blinked rapidly, opening her eyes. What was she doing, letting the past and her subconscious take control of her? That person was no longer part of the family and it would remain that way. They didn't even talk about it anymore, so why did she dig up harmful memories like that? She needed to get a grip.
Looking straight ahead of her, she realized there weren't that many floors left until she reached the bottom. Through the glass doors, she could see the floor she was on. It had no hallways or doors. Instead, it was just a giant room, with almost no windows and gray walls. Despite being in the elevator, Lydia could practically feel the suffocating smell of sweat and stale air. The room was filled with office desks, perfectly aligned in rows, facing forward. At each desk sat an intern, slouching over papers, typing machines or keyboards. None of them looked up, their noses buried in work and documents. No one could tell exactly how many workers there were, since the room was so big and so full that you couldn't even see the end of it. But Lydia knew from papers that the precise number of desks was 1500, therefore, the number of employees working there was also 1,500.
This was the department Lydia had first been placed in and the one where Gabriel was still working, one of the worst in the entire company: The Finance Department. Even now, as she glanced at it, it awoke a twinge of disgust inside her. If you worked here, all you did was just sit at a desk fifteen hours per day, looking over and writing numbers until your brain went numb. The job was boring, repetitive and tiring. Not to mention that in there it was crowded, no comfort, no privacy and the salary was miserable. Maybe not as bad as the one factory workers received (which was barely the minimum wage), but still, it was humiliating for a Max family member. Being placed here, when you were a Max, meant that you literally had no qualities or abilities and were useless. It was fit for Gabriel, since he truly was unworthy of any top position, but not for her! Even with the inheritance she had received after her parents' deaths (that inheritance was also the only reason Gabriel had managed to keep his rich façade), there was still no way she would have settled for that. Maybe Gabriel was content with just pretending to be rich and important, but Lydia wanted to be rich and important. That was the difference between the winners and the losers.
Finally, the elevator reached the ground floor. With another DING!, the glass doors opened and Lydia stepped out. The bottom floor was a giant open space, very bright, very busy and very nosy, compared to the rest of the building. Employees ran around, like some crazed chickens, holding documents and clipboards. Some were carrying so much at once, that the papers resembled rickety towers in their arms, ready to collapse at the gentlest touch. There were office booths where people stood in line, escalators with interns hurrying up and down them and the general atmosphere was one of continuous stress and movement.
Lydia made her way through the sea of workers, towards the main entrance. She didn't have to squeeze between them or brush against their sweat-soaked clothes, though. As soon as they saw her, everyone stepped aside, thus creating a sort of human corridor for her to walk through. Some mumbled greetings through gritted teeth, bending under the heavy piles of documents, others almost dropped everything they were carrying, trying to get out of her way, whereas the rest saluted her with a simple, yet respectful, nod. Meanwhile, Lydia paid them no attention. Instead, she kept walking, staring icily ahead of her, just like she had seen her Father and Uncle do on so many occasions.
In no time, Lydia was at the main entrance. The reception was also situated there and, in front of the desk, accompanied by Grovely, was none other than her nephew, talking with the receptionist. Annoyance bubbled inside her at the sight. After being late as Hell and putting them behind with work, Monty was more interested in chatting, instead of hurrying to get started?!
"Monty!" Lydia shouted, making both the boy and the receptionist jump. The intern quickly shifted his gaze to his computer's screen, while still looking at Lydia fearfully, out of the corner of his eye.
However, Lydia paid him no attention and focused on her nephew instead. "Stop chit-chattering and get to work! It's bad enough already that you are forty-five minutes late!"
At his aunt's harsh tone, Monty's bewildered expression changed to one of annoyance. "I wasn't chit-chattering, I was asking him a question! And it wasn't my fault I was late! Ma held me back this morning and wouldn't stop talking about this and that, so when I remembered I was supposed to be here, it was twenty-something minutes past nine already. Grovely had to drive like a madman," he said, jabbing his thumb in the butler's direction, who just stood there, with a straight face.
Lydia sighed, irritated. Of course, this had to involve Angelina and her big mouth. She never really liked the woman in the first place, but now she felt like going all the way to the mansion just to strangle her. "Fine, whatever. Let's just get on with it. Grovely!"
The tuxedoed man turned to her. "Yes, Miss Lydia."
"You can go now. Come back at around three o'clock to pick Monty up."
"Of course, Miss Lydia." Said the butler and, with that, he headed outside towards the parked limousine.
"What were you asking the receptionist?" Lydia inquired, once she and Monty were alone, in the elevator.
The boy glanced at his Aunt, standing 3 feet away from him, before answering. "I wanted to know when I could leave this place."
"And just how should he know that?"
"Well, I figured people here must have a work schedule, right?"
At this, Lydia couldn't help laughing. Well, it wasn't actually a laugh, there was no joy in it. It was something between a disgusted scoff and a mocking cackle.
"What's so funny?" Asked Monty, frowning at her.
"Oh, Monty…" Lydia shook her head. "Richard was right, you really don't know how this stuff actually works."
Monty's brow furrowed even more. "Yes, I do." He said through clenched teeth. "I already run a few businesses of my own, in case you forgot, Aunt."
Lydia shrugged. "That doesn't necessarily mean that you know. And the fact that you asked the receptionist that question just proves it."
"How?" He asked, glaring daggers.
"Because, if you really were the expert you claim to be, then you would know that the workers don't have a work schedule. They work as much as we want them to."
Monty gawked at her. "What? Really?"
Lydia nodded. "Of course. Take last December for example. There was so much work and fuss going on here, with all the holiday craze and all that, that the employees had to work all night on Christmas Eve. Richard didn't let them go until 7 AM on Christmas morning." She then turned to him, looking slightly amused. "You never did that with your employees, Monty?"
"I… didn't know I could. I mean, wouldn't this mean trouble? What if someone sues?"
Again, Lydia burst laughing. "Sue us?! Monty, who on Earth would sue us? We are one of the biggest corporations in the world and we also have the best lawyers. Plus, even if they did, those worms wouldn't be able to find a job afterwards. Who would hire someone who sued a company as powerful as ours? Oh, Monty, you're killing me, I swear." Lydia continued to chuckle for another good half a minute, shaking her head at her nephew's naivety.
Monty turned his head away from his Aunt. The condescending way she spoke to him, as if he was a five year or a dummy, made his face burn bright red with anger. Restraining himself from lashing out, he chose instead to change the subject.
"So," he said, clearing his throat, "I see that Father was right. It gets really busy this time of the year."
"OH, believe me it does. You saw those workers downstairs, running around like some demented roadrunners? That happens every time around the holidays." With a sigh, Lydia added, "Well, at least it isn't like last year."
"Yeah, but it still is pretty overwhelming." Monty stated as a matter of fact. "Not to mention you, Father and Uncle Nigel also must work from home as well. Sounds exhausting."
His Aunt scoffed. "Tell me about it."
"Well, at least Celestine and Olympia are staying over to help." Monty said, as a simple remark.
However, Lydia did not see it that way. The instant those names left Monty's lips, her face darkened, and her lips tightened so much that her mouth was now a mere thin line. "Yeah, what a relief is to have them near." She hissed.
In reality, that statement couldn't have been further away from the truth. Lydia absolutely despised her in-laws. Angelina was a vain, meddling woman, spoiled rotten since she was a little girl and only interested in the latest fashion and cheap gossip. Celestine was also very nosy, clearly hated their guts and Lydia just knew she was waiting for an opportunity to overthrow them all. And Olympia was a sneaky gold-digger, who had her idiotic young brother wrapped around her finger (plus, her out of the blue confession that she was pregnant just didn't sit right with Lydia). So, naturally, their unexpected announcement that they were going to stay longer than initially planned was a red flag in Lydia's book. She remembered Olympia's smug look as she presented the idea, in their office, late at night. The shock written on Charles' and Celestine's faces when they heard it, replaced by anger when Richard agreed to let her stay, only increased her doubts. When it became the other couple's turn to speak, it wasn't even Celestine who requested to stay over, at first. It was Charles, which was even more peculiar. Her cousin was for sure just as busy as them, overseeing the companies in Europe. Why would he insist on staying here, when he had a whole lot of work to do back in England? Richard, apparently, had thought that too, because he immediately told their cousin to not even think about it and go back home. Charles, then, proposed that his wife remained instead, to which Richard agreed.
Lydia frowned as she mused over the suspicious event. The lame excuse that they 'wanted to help this busy time of the year' was pathetic. They were always busy around the holidays and that didn't seem to bother them before. There was definitely something more.
"Uh, Aunt Lydia? We're here."
Her nephew's voice snapped her out of her pensive state. "What?" Looking in front of her, she saw the elevator's glass doors sliding open, revealing the snow-white hallway at the end of which was her office. "Oh, right. Well, let's go then."
As they headed to her office, Lydia tried to shut out these uncomfortable thoughts and focus on her work. But, as she closed the door, took a seat at her office and began explaining to Monty what to do, she could still hear, in the back of her mind, the little voice telling her that something about her family's actions was very unsettling.
XXX
"Finally done!" Monty exclaimed, falling back into his chair.
While Lydia wasn't usually the type to let excitement get the better of her, even she couldn't help a relieved sigh. Looking at the pile of reports that took four hours to complete, sitting in front of them on the desk, a feeling of accomplishment took a hold of her, replacing the anxiety she felt in the morning. And, with a little luck, maybe Nigel hadn't completed them yet, which meant they were going to present them to Richard first.
Just then, the clock on the wall, along with every other one in the building, chimed, filling the tallest building in Acme Acres with their merry tune. It was lunchtime.
"Come on, Monty, let's go eat." Lydia said, getting up from her chair. The boy got up as well and followed her out of the office.
They took the elevator again, but this time, instead of descending, they went up, to floor 92nd. This floor, like the Finance Department, was just a huge room, with no hallways or doors. However, that was pretty much where the similarities between the two ended. This chamber was spotless, with immaculate walls and a shiny tile floor. It had gigantic sleek windows that allowed sunlight to engulf the room and
gave a clear, beautiful view of the snow-covered Acme Acres. The air was fresh and breathable, all thanks to the advanced ventilating system, creating a pleasant and, somewhat, breezy atmosphere. Up on the wall, in the very center, written in golden letters, hung the words "The Max Corporation" and, in the middle of the room, there was a long table, at which sat their other relatives. Olympia and Gabriel sat next to each other, with Celestine right across them, and Nigel was seated near the head of the table, reading a newspaper. This was the family's own dining room in the company.
The glass doors opened and Lydia, along with Monty, stepped out. The others, except Nigel, looked in their direction and saluted them, with a (clearly fake) smile on their faces. Lydia greeted them as well and so did Monty, though notably less happily. They went and took a seat near the head of the table, so Lydia sat across Nigel and Monty near her. Nigel lifted his gaze from the paper and made eye contact with his sister. They stared at each other for a few seconds, before Nigel went back to his reading.
Monty, however, wasn't paying attention to any of this. He wasn't interested in his relatives' chattering nor in Lydia's and Nigel's cold, unspoken exchange. All Monty wanted at that moment was for his Father to come quicker so they could start eating. From what he had been told, Eliza had made them a delicious dish and all he wanted to do was sink his teeth into the food. Not to mention that completing those darn reports had been a long, tedious job that left him both exhausted and famished. Glancing up at a golden clock on the wall, he saw it was five minutes past two. Monty sighed and pressed his cheek into his fist. If only his Father would show up already. . .
DING! The sound of the elevator grabbed everyone's attention and they all turned. The glass doors opened and out stepped Richard, tall and proud, as usual. With not a word of greeting, he walked towards the end of the table where he turned to eye everyone in the room. He stared icily at them for a moment before clearing his throat.
"So," He started, "I see that you all did your jobs, more or less. Olympia, Celestine, did you talk to those clients?"
"Yes, we did." Celestine said quickly. "I managed to arrange a meeting for next week with ACME Corporation to discuss our next partnership."
"And I," Olympia interfered, "spoke with Mr. Kura in India and he confirmed his order from us." Satisfied that she got to talk about her accomplishment as well, Olympia leaned back into her chair. As she did, she caught Celestine glancing icily at her from the corner of her eye, a look which she returned.
"Perfect." Richard said. Then, ignoring Gabriel completely, he turned to Nigel. "And you? How are the reports going?"
"Pretty good actually." Nigel said, setting down his paper. "I am almost done with them. I think that tomorrow I'll have them all finished, so on Monday they'll be on your desk."
Nodding curtly - which, when it came to Richard, was a sign you did your job right - he then addressed his sister. "How about you, Lydia? In what stage are you and Monty?"
Giving Nigel a short, proud look, Lydia straightened up and said, "Oh, in fact, me and Monty have already finished the reports."
Silence filled the room, while everyone stared at her. Given how many reports there had been, completing all of them in four hours was an outstanding performance. Celestine, Olympia and Gabriel gaped at Lydia, a twinge of disgust in the women's eyes. All of Nigel's arrogance seemed to have disappeared and was replaced, instead by total disbelief. His eyes were as wide as saucers and his jaw almost hung open, as if he was unable to comprehend how his little sister could have done a better job than him. Even Richard stared at first, looking a bit taken aback. But then, with a shadow of a satisfied smile on his face, he nodded.
"Very well, Lydia. I see you have taken the task seriously. And Monty, I wasn't expecting you to be this productive. I know I normally don't say this, but both of you did a good job."
If the family had seemed shocked at Lydia's announcement, it was nothing compared to how they all gawked at Richard's words. If their jaws wouldn't have been attached to their heads, they for sure would have fallen by now.
Meanwhile, Lydia and Monty beamed at the compliment. It was very rare that Richard praised someone like this, and his appreciative comments were, after all, the only thing that mattered to a Max. Not to mention that this could also mean they could ask for a reward. And Monty planned on doing just that.
"Um, Father." He asked tentatively.
"What is it, Monty?"
"Uh, I was wondering, since I did my job alright, can I please go tomorrow to the movies with Elmyra? I promised her a few days ago, on Monday, that I would go." Technically, that wasn't a lie. In an attempt to make him feel better after his fight with Buster, Elmyra had proposed to him that they go see a movie during the weekend and he had responded with 'Yeah, whatever'. So, it would be disrespectful to not show up, right? Besides, that would mean he wouldn't go to the company to do more work!
"Hm," said his Father, while pondering. "We have work tomorrow though."
"I know, Father, but I can make it up to you, I promise. Please?" Usually, Monty never begged like this. It felt a little humiliating now, in front of the others. But, for the sake of a free Sunday, he swallowed his pride and put on the best smile he could muster.
There was a few second pause, before Richard finally sighed. "Fine."
"Yes!" Monty shouted, punching the air.
"BUT!" Richard said sharply. "I don't want to hear any whining from you for the rest of the month. You are going to help around here, no matter how many exams you have to study for. Understood?" Monty nodded, still excited about his Father's answer. "Good. Now that we've discussed everything that needed to be discussed, let's eat. Eliza has prepared us an excellent meal." He pressed a red button attached to the table and, from somewhere else, a ringing echoed. The next second, a pair of automatic doors that perfectly blended in with the wall slid open and a few tuxedoed waiters stepped out, carrying food on silver trays.
The room from which all those waiters had come was the family's personal kitchen and Eliza, being the family's best cook, was always required to come and make them lunch. Richard had been right. The food - spaghetti with meatballs - was incredibly tasty. Monty greedily stuffed his mouth with food, grateful beyond belief that his Father had hired someone as skilled as Eliza, while also still gloating about his free day. But, as the boy got lost in bliss and delicious aromas, he didn't notice all his relatives (beside Richard) giving him and Lydia dirty looks.
XXX
Given that Monty and Lydia had finished their assigned task, they were allowed to go home early. Celestine watched from the window as her in-law and nephew got into the white limousine then sped off. She watched them for a while, until the car blended in with the snow that covered Acme Acres and disappeared from her sight.
'How on Earth had Lydia managed to complete those reports so fast?!' Celestine wondered, anger bubbling inside of her. Normally, she wouldn't have cared so much, but here it wasn't about the reports. It was about impressing Richard. That was crucial if they, Charles and her, wanted to have at least a chance in getting to compete for half of the fortune. And Lydia was stealing that away from them with her little games. Celestine knew that her proposition to do the reports with Monty was less about being practical and more about getting close with the boy and on Richard's good side. And, apparently, she was succeeding at that.
The blonde woman closed her eyes, trying to think. She had to find a way to stop Lydia or else their entire plan would be compromised. Celestine knew that if Charles had remained here, like they had intended first, then he would've handled this situation way better than her. But, of course, Richard had to ruin it by saying that 'Charles is needed at home to take care of the companies in Europe'. So, they had to quickly change their approach and Celestine volunteered herself to remain (which, thankfully, Richard agreed to). But now, Celestine found herself tangled in a dilemma that didn't seem to have a solution. If only Charles was there to help her. . .
"Celi, what are you doing? Come on, we have work to do." The voice started Celestine, making her physically jump a bit. Turning around, she saw that Olympia had entered the room with some papers and was now looking over them at her desk.
"Didn't your mother tell you it was rude to creep up on people?" She snapped.
"No, she left us before she got to do that." Olympia replied in a cold sarcastic tone.
Rolling her eyes, Celestine turned her head away from her and resumed her ponderings, while gazing out of the window, into the distance. A few quiet minutes passed, before Olympia made her presence known again.
"Celi, aren't you gonna get back to work?" Olympia asked, without looking up from her papers.
Taking a deep breath and doing her best not to shout, Celestine addressed her in law as politely as she could. "May I ask why you care?"
Olympia looked up. "Because Richard is going to scold both of us if we don't do our work and I don't want to get dragged because of you. I am not even allowed to stress that much right now. I'm with child, remember?"
Celestine felt the sudden urge to rip her to shreds. The horrible reminder at Olympia's current condition still left a bad taste in her mouth. But, since that would've been unprofessional, she restrained herself. "Well, in case you haven't noticed, Olympia dear, this job is quite stressful. If you don't want to hurt the baby, then take some time off." She hissed.
Olympia's nostrils flared, clearly annoyed by the comment. However, she kept her composure as well. "I would take some time off, you know." She said, bitterly. "But apparently, Richard is more interested in letting others go home and dump all the rest of the work on us." With that, she returned to her papers, frowning at the words written on them.
Meanwhile, Celestine watched her, not with anger, but with curiosity. The acidity in Olympia's voice had reminded her that she was also not happy about the incident at lunch. After all, Olympia wanted to get her hands on that money too and Lydia was also blocking her way. An idea gained contour in Celestine's mind. She wondered. . . Truth was, she had no idea how to deal with Lydia on her own or how to get on Richard's good side, given their relationship had always been a little rocky. And Olympia seemed like an ambitious, cunning woman, that would do anything to get what she wanted. . .
"I have a proposal for you." Celestine announced.
Olympia looked up again. Clearly, she had not expected that out-of-the-blue statement. "What proposal?" she asked, suspiciously.
Celestine approached her then leaned over onto the desk, making Olympia back away a little. When the blonde woman spoke, her voice was barely above a whisper. "I know you're after that money, too."
Olympia stared at her, as if unable to speak. She looked like a child getting caught doing something bad and Celestine had to admit to herself, it was rather funny.
"Wha- What? What money are you talking about?" Olympia stammered.
"Oh, don't play the fool. You know what I'm talking about. The half of the fortune Richard promised Lydia and Nigel if they mentor Monty. You and Gabriel are after it too, aren't you?"
Olympia continued to gawk at her. "Wha- How- How do you know about that?" She asked, so perplexed that she didn't even try to lie anymore.
"I have my methods for finding out what's going on in the house." Celestine said, not really wanting to tell Olympia that she had listened to her and Gabriel's conversation. She could have gotten angry and accused her of eavesdropping and that wasn't important right now. Getting her to accept the proposal was.
"I was thinking. . ." Celestine began, choosing her words carefully. "You see, I want that money, too. I don't think it's fair that after pouring our souls into this company, only Richard's two little minions get rewarded. I mean, what would that leave us? The leftovers?" She said, purposefully using the exact same words the woman had used while talking to Gabriel.
At first, Olympia continued to look a bit taken aback by Celestine's words. But then, she nodded. "It's true. I mean, hell, we worked our hearts out all these years! And all those two - Lydia especially - do is lick Richard's feet like dogs and they get repaid?!"
"Exactly!" Celestine exclaimed. "You see? We're on the same page! That's why you and I should form an alliance!"
"An alliance?" Olympia repeated, perplexed.
"Yes, precisely! We have the same goal and the same enemies. Plus, together we're stronger! So, what do you say? Partners?" Celestine extended her hand.
For a few seconds, Olympia didn't say anything and just looked at the woman's hand, as if pondering what to do. Celestine held her breath, wondering if she would really accept. But then, just as she thought her offer would be declined, Olympia clasped her hand tightly and shook it.
"All right. From now on, it's you and me, Max."
"You got it, Achreios." The blond woman returned the shake, way beyond ecstatic.
This partnership meant that she had lost an enemy and gained an ally. An ally that will help plot and organize their next move, someone that was sly and ambitious and thirsted for wealth, just like her. Never mind that none of them wanted to share that money with anyone else, besides their men. Never mind that, even if they worked together, they still couldn't completely trust each other. Never mind that they were both certain that, one day, they will have to stab each other in the back, yet neither of them knew who would betray the other first and more. None of that mattered at the moment. For now, they pushed those thoughts to the back of their mind and focused on the present, on what they needed to do to enter the competition.
'Just you wait, Lydia.' Celestine thought, as she let go of Olympia's hand. 'Just you wait.'
