She Will be Loved

9

Oliver Cooper's POV

The ringing phones pull me back to reality, forcing me to sink into my chair and rub my temple, trying to ease the tension building inside me. Jim's death, the media frenzy—it's all too much.

He spent over ten years in an asylum, only to end his life in my hotel months after his release.

"Sir," I raise my brow in a threatening manner, stopping my publicist, Travis, from talking further. I've just had enough of advices that one can take.

"Find any of his existing kin," I say, making my decision.

"Right away, sir," Travis says, then leaves my office.

It's a tragic situation. Yet, his undelivered message haunts me.

What would my father do?

I retrieve a photo from the lower drawer—my father, uncle, and Jim, captured in a moment frozen in time. I study their faces, wondering what my father would think of me now.

I am about the same age as my father in that photo. He was starting out to build his empire.

As a father would i be like my father?

Father, the word rings.

Then the pang that clutches onto me in the middle of night this time shows up early.

I return the photo and retrieve the three medical reports. I read and reread them, there is no mistake or misdiagnosis. I had to confirm with three different specialist.

I shut my eyes and rub my temple, tired.

The report stares at me. The more I look at the words, the more the possibility of having a bride and becoming a father blurs.

I resented my father so much, and lived my life doing the opposite he taught me. Is this my Karma?

I palm my face and breath into my hands.

Wallowing in self pity gets one nowhere, He would slap my hand if i ever palmed my face. I quickly sit upright.

I return to the daunting task of selecting my bride. And all of a sudden, I find my mind drifting to a certain girl with corkscrew curls. Without even trying, she left an impression.

I wonder what she is doing now? I shut my eyes remembering her face.

'Not really' was her answer when i asked how she was. Her voice soft, filled with familiar sadness.

I could have called back, but I knew it wasn't a good idea to fraternize with my staff when I am looking for a wife or mix with business.

Yet her presence nags at me, reminding me of the past. Reminding me of Nimo.

In another time, i would give in and allow myself to entertain what i felt around her.

I pick the office phone and call the HR department, and Miss Porter and remind her of Jessie's package. I doubt I'll see her again since she's been here for years and we've never crossed paths before. If we had, I would remember her.

I then call Cara, informing her that she can start planning the physical introduction party for the two candidates that i have chosen.

"That was quick. I haven't even submitted all the other candidates," she says.

"No need for more candidates; the two I have selected are well-fitting," I inform her. I am just tired.

She remains silent for a while, then speaks, "About Jim, should I come ?"