Million Dollar Man [H.S. AU]

Chapter Two

I extend my hand as I took a step towards her.

"You must be Miss Frasier." I say politely.

She reaches for my hand and shakes it firmly.

"Mister Styles." She greets.

I motion to the table off to the side.

"Shall we get started?" I ask.

She nods curtly in response, and I lead her to the table that I use for meetings.

She follows me, and I take a seat at the head of the table, not bothering to pull her chair out for her knowing she is more than capable of doing it herself.

She doesn't seem to mind, and takes a seat across from me at the end of the five foot table.

She puts her brief case on the table flipping it open and pulling out a stack of papers with a pen.

I look at my own files in front of me as she sets her brief case aside.

I clear my throat.

"I assumed that you were Mister Frasier's son." I admit as she skimmed the stack of papers in front of her.

She didn't look up at me.

"Yes, my father loves his name. He insisted on carrying it on." She explains.

I look her over, resting my forearms on the table in front of me putting my weight on them slightly.

"He didn't want to wait until he had a son?" I asked, intrigued.

She flipped the page, and looked up at me.

Her deep blue eyes piercing my green ones.

Her gaze was intense, but I met her with the same long stare.

She finally broke away, turning her attention back to the file in front of her.

"He only wanted one child." She says, her voice hinting at no emotion.

I clasp my hands in front of me on the table, staring wordlessly at the woman on the other end.

She was so...different.

One: I never had women on this floor of the building, and I do mean never.

It wasn't that I was sexist, but it had more to do with the fact that I only had important multi millionaires in my office, and normally women didn't fit that category.

Two: She wasn't intimidated by me. She looked at me directly in the eyes, making eye contact and invaded my personal space as if she were trying to dominate me.

Three: This woman would laugh at any of the girls I was with.

She was put together with perfectly polished fingers and smudge free make up.

She wore expensive things, but she probably bought them herself with the money that she earned from work.

Where as the girls that I hooked up with were given clothes from various guys that they fucked.

There was something about a woman buying her own things with the money she worked for.

I found it extremely attractive.

Miss Frasier continued to read through the papers, and I became impatient.

"Miss Frasier, do you think that we could start today?" I snap.

Her head shoots up and I assume that she would be pissed off by my sarcastic remark, but she just looks at me with such a bored expression, almost as if I was beneath her.