G R E E D

P A R T T W O

© Amber Kalkes 2015

Song: "Blue Blood Blues" By The Dead Weather

P A R T  T W O

The clicking of my heels announced my exit from the conference room and signaled the scurrying of the people populating the law firm. I didn't pay any attention to them, my eyes were already firmly set on the elevators. I wasn't going to lose my cool around these people. I wasn't going to let my mask slip until I was safe away from prying eyes. Away from anyone who could sell a headline about yet another Talbot tantrum.

After entering the elevators, I felt the last string of my self control begin to snap. My lawyer, Daniel Romero was on my shit list as of that moment. It couldn't be helped of course and it wasn't his fault but being the barer of bad news came with its downfalls. What was the saying? Don't kill the messenger for the message? At that moment that lesson was lost on me.

"Fucking useless," I hissed as I hit the button that would lead to the ground floor, "What is the point of paying a fortune for a lawyer if they can't even get you what you need them to?"

The elevator doors were mirrored so as these words left my lips I was able to see my reflection. I looked like anyone who knew who I was would expect. Dressed in a black Alexander McQueen leaf flared hem suit jacket with a matching pencil skirt and white button up top hidden underneath, I look pristine. My matching black high heels with red bottoms and red lips added to this affect.

Staring at myself in the golden mirrored door a heavy sense of depression began to settle in my chest the longer I stared at myself. Fourteen year old me would have been in as equally horrified as in awe at what I had become over a decade later. Back then all I wore was store brand jeans passed down from my cousins, my mother's paint splattered t-shirts and never brushed hair. I was so happy then and so sure of myself. Now, I wasn't even sure who I was.

By common opinion though, I was a Beauchamp by birth, a Talbot by blood and a heartless bitch by practice.

When the elevator dinged and it snapped me out of my reverie. Straightening my back I faced the busy lobby with an impassive gaze before my eyes landed on my bodyguard, Roland. He was waiting for me in the lobby, stationed in one of the chairs with a closed off expression on his face. When his eyes met mind though I noticed some warmth enter them. I didn't return it.

Roland was dressed in his usual all black suit, his brown hair shorn close to his head and his chocolate colored eyes solely on me as I stepped out. Roland was in his early thirties and made for a very imposing figure. He was perfectly suited for job like this as well. Always ready for any threat and smart enough to prevent anything that could soon become a threat. That being said he was the fourth body guard I'd had in the last ten years, them always leaving me.

Roland followed in my wake wordlessly as I sped walk my way past him and towards the revolving door, that lead to the chilly city weather outside. The black sleek car my father had provided me sat outside, waiting for me and I didn't hesitate anymore like I used to. In a frightful moment of clarity, I realized that I was used to this lifestyle and it left a bitter taste in my mouth.

Roland opened the door for me and I slid in without much of a thank you. He didn't need one. Roland was one of those men who did his job knowing it was thankless and expected little to no pleasantries. That was how he explained it to me within months of him coming under my father's employment. He was just doing his job and my constant gratitude was making him uncomfortable.

As of this point he had been shadowing me everywhere for the three years and we were comfortable with each other. His silence was valued not only by my father but myself. I didn't like people who didn't know when to talk and when not to. With the perpetually silent Roland, I never had that problem. If anything it made me even more fond of the man who was sliding into the back seat next to me.