Thank you, dear readers, followers, and favoriters (Can I make that a word?) for all of your thoughtfulness and support. I love you all! Enjoy this quickly updated chapter!
I am not Rick Riordan, because if I was, The Blood of Olympus would be published before October 7th. But I do use the occasional cliffhanger, so maybe we're distantly related. Who knows?
Annabeth woke up to the sound of wedding bells chiming. She sprang out of bed and gave her alarm clock a satisfying smack before running into the bathroom to get ready. Three minutes and two seconds later, she was in her kitchen, eating a stale piece of toast and buttoning up her blazer. Swallowing the last bit of her toast with a sip of coffee, she grabbed her backpack and glanced at the clock. 4:02 AM. Three minutes early. She let out a breath she didn't realize she was holding, and closed the door behind her.
When she arrived at her architecture office, three blocks down from her apartment building, it was 4:25 on the dot. Annabeth glanced at her reflection in the front window and tucked a stray curl into her perfect bun before ducking inside the door. Heading past the elevator, she waved good morning to the night guards who were just leaving. "Early again, Miss Chase?" they called after her. She laughed in response, and started the twenty flights of stairs to her office.
Annabeth always refused to use the old-fashioned elevator. Everybody knew that she thought the contraption was an unnecessary waste of space and electricity. If an innocent intern asked her about it, they would be subjected to her famous lecture on all of the money the business was wasting. The elevator was only part of the horrible design of the building, which was ironic because it was an architecture firm, and therefore should be well designed. Twenty minutes later, the unfortunate intern would stumble out from her office, looking completely frazzled. Not many interns lasted much longer after that. It wasn't that Annabeth was a bad manager- she simply was very intimidating. A perfectly ironed pitch black blazer and honey blonde hair pulled into a picture perfect bun paired with her stormy gray eyes was disconcerting enough. On top of that, though, she was also the youngest architect ever to join a prestigious firm and engineer an entire mansion for the President. And she was intelligent, too, graduating from both Harvard and Yale two years early and beginning her career at the young age of twenty.
At 7:30, Annabeth's secretary arrived, and cheerfully announced that the boss was on her way up to the office. "Send her in as soon as possible," Annabeth replied, adding a final pencil stroke to her third blueprint of the day. A few minutes later, her boss, Mrs. Carullo entered her office. Mrs. Carullo had a stern face with sharp pointed features with a pin tight grey bun perched atop her head. She flicked an invisible piece of lint off of her dark pink blazer. "I'm presuming you have finished the layouts for the newest Hollywood studio the firm is building?" Plucking the pile of blueprints off of Annabeth's desk, she tutted approvingly. "I see you have. You can leave now," she said, heading for the door without even looking at the sketches. Annabeth shook her head. "Don't you have anything I can do?" She asked, a hopeful look in her eyes. Mrs. Carullo turned to face her, a faint smile playing at the corners of her lips. "You already do too much. Take a day for yourself."
Mrs. Carullo had an interesting relationship with Annabeth. She loved Annabeth's work, and saw it for the true genius it was, but could not show her any extra favoritism towards her. Annabeth was secretly her favorite employee, though, and she respected her doubly as she was the only other woman at the firm. She was discreet in her acknowledgement and appreciation of Annabeth's work, but Annabeth was intelligent to pick up her subtle hints. She smiled to herself as she repacked her backpack with all of her notes and sketches. Mrs. Carullo really wasn't as bad as everyone seemed to think.
Stepping out into the sidewalk, Annabeth pulled out her phone and called Piper. "Hey there, Beauty Queen!" she said, holding the phone with her shoulder as she unbuttoned her perfectly ironed blazer. Piper moaned on the other end of the phone. "It's. 7. Freaking. 45. In the morning. ANNIE, WHY DO YOU HATE MEEEEEE?" Annabeth held her phone away from her ear as Piper continued her rant. Two blocks later, Annabeth put the phone back up to her ear. "Done yet?" she asked, smirking, even though Piper couldn't see it.
"Yeah," Piper grumbled.
"Good. I just wanted to tell you that I got out of work a bit early today, and was wondering if you wanted to meet up somewhere."
"7:45 is a bit early? Geez, Annie. Normal people don't even go to work until 8. What time did you get there?"
Annabeth ignored Piper's question. "First of all, don't call me Annie. You know I hate that. Second of all, I am not normal, nor am I people-"
"LALALALA, not listening. Just come over to my Dad's place ASAP. Ok? BYEEEEEEEEE!"
"Bye, Piper," Annabeth sighed, looking down at her silent phone.
Passing her apartment building, Annabeth glanced longingly at the little coffee shop across the street. Shaking her head to clear her mind of coffee and caffeine-filled daydreams, she raised her hand to hail a cab. A few minutes later, a cab pulled over. "Where to, Miss?" he asked in a surprisingly polite tone.
"The McLean mansion, please," she replied. The cabbie raised his eyebrows at the address, but didn't say anything. Twenty minutes later, Annabeth was paying and thanking the driver, and surveying the gardens of the McLean mansion.
See, Piper McLean wasn't just any regular girl. As much as she tried to hide it, she was the daughter of the infamous Tristan McLean, world renowned actor and billionaire. "ANNABETH! Don't just stand there! Hurry up and GET IN HERE!" Piper's voice crackled from a hidden speaker. Annabeth rolled her eyes, knowing full well that Piper could see her expression on the millions of security cameras hidden throughout the grounds.
Making her way up to the front door of the mansion, Annabeth couldn't help but notice Jason's truck parked in the long driveway. "I'm assuming your dad isn't home, right? Jason wouldn't be here if he was." she called out, entering the foyer. There really wasn't any other word to describe the hotel-lobby-size entry hall to the mansion. "Right as always," Piper smiled, strolling into the room in her favorite camouflage pajamas.
"Hi, Annabeth," Jason waved, appearing behind his girlfriend.
Annabeth laughed."Hi there, Mr. Marriage. Took you long enough to ask her."
Jason blushed furiously, and Piper giggled.
"Anyway, Annabeth. Remember how you're going to be the maid of honor?" Piper smiled widely.
"How could I forget? You won't let me not remember."
Piper winked. "Ah, touché. But seriously. Jace and I decided that you can plan the entire wedding!"
Annabeth's eyebrows rose. "You're kidding me, right? I have enough work without worrying about planning the wedding of the century all by myself."
Piper pouted, "But you're the only one who can make my wedding perfect."
Jason cleared his throat uncomfortably. "And you, uh, wouldn't be doing it alone. I've picked out my best man, and he's already agreed to help."
"And he's cute," Piper waggled her eyebrows at her friend. Jason looked slightly miffed at her statement, so Piper amended, "But not as cute as you." She pecked Jason on the tip of his nose, cheering him up significantly.
Annabeth rolled her eyes. "Look, I told you to stop trying to set me up with people. I have never needed a boyfriend, and don't plan on starting now. And don't you remember what happened with the last one?" Annabeth said threateningly.
"It wasn't my fault. I didn't know Luke was going to throw up on your blueprints, Annie..." Piper said defensively.
"THREE TIMES? ON THREE DIFFERENT DAYS?" she practically screeched.
"Heh... sorry about that?"
Annabeth pressed her fingers to her temples. "Ok. I'll plan your wedding. Just don't set me up with anyone. Ever. Again. Understand?" Her eyes glinted dangerously, and Piper gulped.
"Yes," she squeaked meekly.
"Good." Annabeth turned to Jason. "So, who's your best man? Frank?" she asked. Frank was one of Jason's oldest friends, and had just gotten married to his girlfriend, Hazel, a few months before.
"No, he said he was too busy with married life or something. So I asked my second oldest friend instead."
"Who is..." Annabeth prompted.
"Right here!" a male voice said cheerfully. Annabeth slowly turned to face her new wedding-planning-partner. She gasped. It couldn't be. Not after all those years... Wavy, unruly black hair. A bright, joking smile slowly fading from his face. And eyes as green as the sea itself. "Perseus Jackson," she hissed.
A disconcerted frown captured his face. "Annabeth Chase. So we meet again."