"How can I help you?" she asks in a pleasant throaty voice, smiling at me. Yes, fuck, I am in jeans and a T-shirt with Potter. I hate this whole dress code of pompous offices and balls that my parents drag me to.
"I'm here to see Mr. Grey, for an interview, Miss Ana Still," I say brazenly and look at her.
We're waiting for Miss Kavanagh for the interview, but we don't have any Miss Still scheduled, the Mexican woman reports, staring at me.
Listen, Donald Trump's nightmare, I'm not here of my own free will. Let me through to Gray, I say brazenly.
Sorry, Miss, but Mr. Gray only sees by appointment, she says sympathetically.
Holy shit... I'd rather go bowling with Jack and Jose. I roll my eyes and brazenly look at her.
Tell Gray I'm Kate, I finally come up with an excuse to go to this asshole.
You're not giving up, Miss Still, I hear someone's velvety, husky voice behind me.
My toes suddenly cramp up and something warm spreads in my chest. This voice is beautiful... I can't see its owner, but something tells me that this is Gray. I turn around and meet the gaze of brown eyes. Holy shit. He's younger than I thought. I mean, I expected to see a 90-year-old wreck, but in front of me is a rather cheerful man of about... 40? 50? It's hard to tell his age. Tousled hair, a nice mole on his cheek, a simple gray shirt with a warm black jumper over it.
"Mr. Gray, this is impudent," the Mexican woman starts to bully me.
"Andrea, I'll sort this out myself," Gray says coldly and looks at me. Shit, I think I'm in trouble. Andrea nods and gives me a pass. Gray nods to her and gestures to the elevator. I silently follow him. Fuck, Still, are you wet for this old man? No, he has a great voice, but fuck, it's just a voice. I get into the elevator, take out the questions and look at them.
"Where's Miss Kavanagh, by the way?" Gray asks as we get out of the elevator.
"ARI, she's sick. She could have dumped you on Mia Jones, but she dumped you on me. Do I need that?" I sigh and look at Gray, expecting an angry scream. But no, he laughs.
"Don't you like community service, Miss Still?" Gray asks and I nod.
"I like drinking, partying, bowling. Offices and social life make me sick," I take out a cigarette and light it.
"We don't allow smoking," Gray growls as we enter his office. The office is as luxurious as the hallway. Photos on the walls, emerald curtains, a pleasantly crackling fireplace. I brazenly plop down in the chair opposite Gray's desk.
- Go to hell, I'm stressed. Not only did your maid fuck my brains in the 69 position for 10 minutes, but I can't smoke, - I answer.
Grey laughs.
- You're funny, Ana. Is that your full name? - he says, looking me in the eye.
- No, completely Anastasia. Well, now I'm going to torment you with boring questions, - I say with my signature smirk.
- We can arrange a cross-interview. It's not often that impudent eighteen-year-old schoolgirls with the appearance of a fashion model burst into my office, - Gray crosses his legs.
- Go ahead, I'm not afraid. I'm asking first, since I'm a lady. So, you own a multi-billion dollar empire. Hundreds of thousands of people work for you. How did you achieve this? - I read out the question.
- Bribes, payoffs, blackmail, putting the right people in the right places, deals that both ruined me and made me rich. Sometimes I achieved my goal dishonestly, Miss Still. And I'm not ashamed of it. Business is like a jungle: either you eat it or it eats you, - Christian says seriously.
Wait, what? He's one of those people who will do anything to achieve his goal. I got to a man. Involved in crime? Well, thank you, Kate, a huge bitch, fucking thank you.
- How, did you get away from the cops? - Kate didn't write this, but I'm curious.
- Money, Miss Still. It rules the world. Any problem can be solved with its help. But seriously, I have connections in all the organizations I need. Sometimes I help the families of those who can help me. I literally own the city, - an impudent, beautiful, spoiled son of a bitch.
- So you're not that bad, - I say, quickly writing down some bullshit in a notebook about Business for Gray is people. This can't be allowed in the media, and it will be very good if I get my skinny ass out of here.
- Miss Still, in our world you can't say that there are definitely good and definitely bad people. A hero can become a villain, and a villain can become a hero, it all depends on the situation and the person, - Gray smiles sarcastically. Showing slightly sharpened snow-white teeth.
- Are you a philosopher? - I write down his statement in my notebook.
- Sometimes I get carried away. I do not accept the division into Darkness and Light, as the esteemed Professor Dumbledore does with the hero on your T-shirt. By the way, Crookshanks or Hedwig? - Christian asks, standing up.
- I don t get it? - I admit to him, tucking my hair behind my ears.
- What animal would you like to have from the world of Harry Potter? - Christian stands behind me and puts his hands on my shoulders. Hell, no... Scars... I clench my teeth and wince. He sees my reaction and quickly removes his hands. I note his beautiful sinewy hands of the correct shape and perfect manicure.
- An owl and a cat. But my parents won't let me in if I get a pet. They don't have time to look after it, and I have school, - I say, embarrassed.
Gray nods and walks around me.
- You work so hard, but how do you relax? Chess at a club, for those over fifty-five? - I giggle.
- No, Anastasia, balls, social events, hunts, planning, sailing, casinos, red light districts. At my age, I try new things and get to know my mind and body, - Gray sits down at the table, - and you?
- Drinking, parties, online games. I tried reading Dostoevsky and Shakespeare a couple of times, such a drag, - I admit.
- Well, what about Hugo? Dumas? Mayne Reid? Fenimore Cooper? - Christian asks.
I smile. Why do I want to answer him? Why do his brown eyes and honest answers enchant me? Yes, when he was younger, he probably drove women crazy, and now he is beautiful. Fuck, Still, your panties are worth wringing.
- No, I haven't read them. I've heard about their books, but I never got around to it. Studying. Eleventh grade, preparing for exams, - I answer.
- And drinking in the company of rich kids who are ready to do anything to get into your panties, - Christian chuckles.
- Uh... you went too far, Christian. I'm a tomboy, an alcoholic, but not a whore. - I flare up.
- Sorry, - Gray lowers his eyes and blushes.
- You don't have a family. Did you sacrifice it for the sake of business? - I ask.
- I don't need a family, Ana. I like freedom, I like pleasure. I will never subordinate myself to the interests of another person, - Gray grins.
- And if you fall in love with someone? - I ask cautiously.
- Love is for fools, Anastasia, - the man declares.