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4.2 Conclusions

I woke up in a room that looked a lot like the usual rooms they had for girls like me. Expensive furniture, grande lights and rich colours.

That stupid Colt Lewis guy was nowhere to be seen. I expected him to be old because his family was dead and he was so wealthy.

I put on my smiley face. The one that always worked with the difficult people, but it was hard to maintain it because my head was spinning.

I exited my lavish room and began looking for my new target. I noticed the cameras that were all over the place, watching me like a hawk.

Colt Lewis must know that I am awake. Why isn't he showing himself?

I crossed my hands in front of my chest and returned to my room. I gasped in shock when I saw a tall man in a black suit looking outside my window.

I only saw his backside and he already scared the shit out of me. He probably had his suit tailored, that was why it fit him so well. His hands were placed in his pockets.

His dark hair was gelled back. It made me curious to see his face.

He scared me because before my room was just like an empty vase, there was nothing substantial in it. Now he was occupying it with his presence and it was a heavy presence.

I used the time he took to acknowledge me to readjust my face. He did not need to see my scared face, he would see my obedient face - the face that everybody loved.

Then it happened. He turned around to face me in his own rhythm. It was like the world was in slow motion for a moment.

He was wearing black Ray-Bans inside my room and he slowly took them off. I finally got to see his eyes, a dark chocolate colour that made it hard to see his emotions.

His face was hard to read. He did not have that spoiled look on his face that most people who bought from the agency.

"Have you made your conclusions?" he suddenly said in a husky voice.

My voice came out like a stutter, "I can't seem to be able to make any."

He replied, "Good."

"Who are you?" I asked him.

His low chuckle almost gave me shivers. "I need a word with Mistress Raser. I told her to prepare you better than that."

Oh shit. Who was I talking to? He could not possibly be Colt Lewis. That man was rich and old. Right?

"Not delivering your listed qualities I see," he uttered. Excuse me?

"My qualities do not include facial recognition, sir," I replied, figuring that I had to add the politeness.

"Drop the sir. It annoys me. I am Mr. Lewis." I almost dropped to the floor. The man in front of me really was Colt Lewis.

"I am sorry, Mr. Lewis," I said apologetically.

"Drop the act." He liked to drop things. With his looks and his attitudes, he could probably drop panties. "I know you are pretending. I see it in your eyes."

"I am not pretending, Mr. Lewis. I know my place," I added, trying to give my best performance.

"You are doing it again," he said in an annoyed tone.

He was killing me. Colt Lewis was able to see right through me. "I do not know what you are talking about."

"I hope your mouth has other talents than lying badly." His bluntness shocked me. I had not expected him to shoot right at me like that.

I would perform, he need not to worry. If my acting did not put him under my spell, my other talents would.