The word 'fine' says so many things when it's just one word.
***
"There's a thin line between love and hate, you know?"
"Yes, but it's very hard to cross over,"
***
Caught in a financial problem, Savi is desperate and looking for money. Problem aft...
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Zendaya!
***
I walk confidently into the shiny skyscraper. Everything in here is so rich, so expensive. I'm going to a meeting with possible investors. I look quite smart if I say so myself. My hair is pulled back into a neat tight bun, and I'm wearing a black pencil skirt that reaches my knees. I chose a white blouse and a cardigan I borrowed from Emma. She chose my outfit. She sadly forced me into her black heels. Some say there is perks of having stylish friends with the same shoe size as you. I say it's freaking hell. Around my neck, is the necklace Mark and Lene gave me.
"Excuse me, I have a meeting," I say to the receptionist.
"Oh, what's your name?" The receptionist answers. She looks me up and down, smiling fakly.
"Savannah Ross, I mean Jones. Savannah Jones"
I refuse to use my parents name, so instead I'm using Lene and Mark's. When I told them they were overjoyed.
"You're late. 13 minutes late to be exact. Go right in, their waiting for you. Floor 3" she says, pointing her bony finger at the elevator. I smile at her and thank her none the less.
I reach the elevator pressing 3. It gently carries me up to there. I clutch the railing nervously. I hate elevators. Not just elevators, tight spaces in general. I would have taken the stairs but I'm wearing heels I can hardly walk in.
The elevators open with a small ping, presenting me a long corridor with one door right at the end of it. I walk down, to the room, which I assume is the conference room.
I push the door to reveal a long table, with 3 men sitting around it. They beckon me in, gesturing for me to sit down.
"Good morning's gentlemen, I am Savannah Jones," Gentlemen? Oh how cringey. Cringe cringe cringe cringe cringe.
"It's nice to meet you Miss Jones. I am Mr. Hale, this is Mr. Johansson and that is Mr. Youvareses,"
"I'm guessing you're are the head, yes?"
"Yes, how did you know. We tend to keep it a secret and not let many people know, especially the press," he replies, "have you been spying on us? Did you get a private investigator?" He says it jokingly but I can hear a hint of seriousness in his voice.
"No of course not! You're sitting at the head of the table, and you speak for all of them which was a obvious giveaway,"
"Oh, seems like I'm getting paranoid," all the men in the room laugh. What's so funny?
I smile at each one of them again, laughing fakly with then anyway.
All pleasantries are gone (not that it was exactly pleasant) and we get straight to business.
