English Version: Sands & Sparrow

35

"Good morning, Miss Sinclair," the secretary greeted Margo, wearing a puzzled look on her face. Her eyes widened slightly as she took in her boss's unusually cheerful mood. "Good morning to you too, Diana," Margo acknowledged with a smile that brightened the office.

The office's glass windows doubled as walls, creating a fortress atop the city's most prominent building. The sky was in full view, a canvas of dark, roiling clouds. Raindrops descended freely, flowing like waterfalls against the glass, creating a mesmerizing pattern.

"Are you okay, Miss Sinclair?" the secretary asked, her face confused, her brow furrowing slightly. It was rare to see Margo in such a cheerful mood; usually, her expression was as stern as the skyline visible behind her.

"I'm fine, Diana. Thank you for asking." Margo's voice carried a warmth that was as unexpected as it was pleasant. She settled into her leather chair. "Please prepare the charts for the annual reports and set up a meeting with Goldberg Industries," Margo replied, smiling once again. Her fingers tapped a light, happy rhythm on the polished surface of her desk.

"Would that be all, Miss Sinclair?" Diana was still amazed; the signature scowl she was accustomed to seeing on Margo was nowhere to be found. Instead, her green eyes sparkled with an inner light as if reflecting a joy invisible to others.

"Yes," Margo responded, seemingly unaware of her secretary's astonished expression. She turned to gaze out at the rain, a small, secret smile on her lips.

Diana finally nodded, heading toward the door. Her heels clicked against the marble floor. "I'm going now, Miss Sinclair."

"Oh, by the way, Diana. Nice weather today," Margo quipped, her voice light and almost playful.

The secretary paused at the door, her hand on the sleek handle. She turned to Margo and smiled hesitantly upon seeing a flash of lightning tear across the sky, brightening the office for a brief moment. The ensuing rumble of thunder seemed to underscore the absurdity of the statement. "Uhmm...yes? N-nice weather, I guess."

++++

The kitchen door opened, revealing Mrs. Poulain's brightly beaming face. "Aveline, you have been a passionate chef," she said, her eyes glinting with gladness as she approached. One of the clients wants to see you. Would that be okay?"

"It will be my honor, Mrs. Poulain," Aveline smiled approvingly.

"She's at table three, waiting for you," Mrs. Poulain informed her.

Aveline's gaze swept across the restaurant until she found who she was looking for. Her forehead creased in confusion when she saw Ophelia Veron alone at table three, holding a glass of wine and elegantly waving at her.

"Miss Veron?" Aveline stood in front of Ophelia.

"Please, take a seat."

"Why are you here?" Aveline asked with a puzzled expression.

Ophelia ignored her question. "Would you like a drink?" She poured some wine and gently pushed it towards Aveline.

"Uhm, thanks? But can I go? My shift isn't over yet," Aveline hesitated while Ophelia looked at her, her black eyes melting into Aveline's chocolate gaze. Ophelia curled her lip into a wry smile. "So, how's your school? Did Margo make any improvements?"

"W-what?" Aveline's brow knitted in confusion.

Ophelia propped her chin on her hand, amused. "Oh, she didn't tell you? Margo bought your school."

"P-please tell me, what do you want from me?"

Ophelia gave her a thoughtful smile, her red lips parting into a grin. "I have no intention of being a villain. I'm merely interested in how this will unfold. Quite a scandal, isn't it? The great Margo Sinclair having an affair with a girl like you," she mused, her words striking Aveline once more.