How To Get Over A Man

10: Rather an Ock!

Amelia didn't lift her head from her laptop when the door opened and someone walked into her office. She already knew who it was as she's gotten used to the sound pattern the heel of his polished shoes make when they crossed the vast space in the centre between her door and her workspace.

"Miss Bronté, Chantal is here." Kamari announced. Should I let her in now or you would like to wrap up work first?"

"Let her in. Also–" Amelia looked up from her screen to peer at him through her anti-blue light glasses. "—get us something for lunch. Nothing pineapple for Chantal, she doesn't like it. I'd prefer an iced tea with whatever you're ordering. Don't get me anything too greasy."

"Yes ma'am." Kamari turned around, his mind running through a list of the things she's eaten since she employed him. It'd be safer to pick from there but what about Chantal? He's never gotten anything for her before.

"Hi," Chantal greeted cheerfully, standing by his workspace which was just outside Amelia's office.

"Miss Chantal."

"You don't have to be formal with me. J met you at the beach remember?" She smiled, a dazzling stretch of her lips and sparkles in her eyes. Kamari couldn't resist smiling back.

"Yes, I remember. Miss Bronté is ready to receive you. Would chicken wings be great for lunch?"

"Yes, why?"

"Great." Kamari smiled and ended what would have turned into a friendly conversation as fast as he could. He had an errand to run. Miss Bronté was counting minutes. With a polite nod, he excused himself and went on with his task.

"You are terrorizing that handsome man." Chantal said as soon as Amelia's desk came into view, walking past the emerald green couch somewhere in the centre of that vast space , up the three stairs to Amelia's work area. She pulled out one of the empty chairs across Amelia and settled into it.

"I do not understand what you mean Chantal." Amelia closed her laptop and pushed it to one side. "Please tell me you've got good news."

"You don't waste a minute do you?"

"I don't have one to."

"You know, it's crazy how you rich peeps think you can get anything in this world with money. A hundred grand for an invite, who does that?"

Chantal chuckled with a shake of her head and Amelia peered on expectantly.

Releasing a long sigh through her nostrils, Chantal dipped her hand into a bag and whipped out a twinkling charcoal-coloured card, like it's got a thousand tiny stars sprinkled all over it.

"Here you go." She slid it across the desk to Amelia.

Amelia's lips twitched at first but the feeling of triumph pushed the rest of the happiness out of her into a blinding smile followed by a content laugh as she picked up the card and ran her thumb over it.

"Well, money does solve problems. If not all, then most." Amelia chuckled again. She had the key to her problem in her hands: the strictly-by-invite Lafayette charity ball ticket. The only way she can force a face-to-face meeting with Madam Sylvaine and demand an explanation for her sudden actions.

"It's a hundred thousand grand for something that's worth forty five. Who wouldn't bow? Most especially when the only reason you got the ticket is because your aunt's a close friend that knows somebody that knows someone." Chantal added a shrug.

"I'm curious. How did you manage to get an invite in less than 48 hours  when the tickets been sold out since a month ago?" Amelia placed the card gently on the desk and relaxed into her chair, rocking it left and right slightly.