Mind Over Matter (ON HOLD)

Chapter 6: Rainbow Room Madness

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"This case needs to be dealt with delicately, Mr. Boxman. In order to do that you must remain a low profile."

Harold Boxeman is the current CEO of Boxeman Enterprises.His powdered products from nutrition were loved by every single traditional American family. He was named one of the states influencial people On Time magazine.His come sixty seven years of age being a multi billionaire, Ranking as number thirty two in world's most wealthiest men. That was until they had found over 1500 grams of cocaine in the disguised nutrition box being sold overseas.

"How do you think I'm supposed to keep a low profile with the press all up my ass, Hart?!" He stated angrily, slamming his fist onto the table. I jump at the startled noise, yet everyone remained motionless.

Mr. Hart looks directly at him, his eyes set and exhausted having to explain this to his client about abiding by the rules before court. I observe his features closely. The underside of both his eyes were red, perhaps from lack of sleep. His sculpted features seemed more hard set rather than humorous from our interaction in the vehicle.

"Stay silent. Do not let your attorney address any statements to the press on your behalf again."

What type of idiocracy is for an attorney to go out to schedule the press meetings and speak on the clients behalf without going through with the judicial system first? Every little thing said is held in the court of law. Mr. Boxman must've blinded him with more money.Thats all humanity needs to be sucked in at the world's mercy. People are slaves to money. Yet it never saves you in the end.

Mr. Hart stands up from his chair. I silently stand up from my chair as I collect his files, hurriedly sorting them in alphabetical order, and handing them to him. His hand grazes my fingertips, creating another shock. I jerk my hand quickly from his and reach to grab my satchel, only for it to be handed to me.

"I believe this is yours." This man looked rather young, but old enough. His skin was of an olive tone. His eyes were a smoldering hazel green. His teeth were pure white as his lips coiled up into a smirk as he gestured the satchel, signaling for me to reach out and grab it from him. I hesitantly reach out my hand to grab the satchel from his hand. His fingers also purposely graze through my back hand, yet there was no shock as previously with Mr. Hart.

"Thank you, sir."

"Please, call me Blake."

That name sounds familiar.

"Thank you.. Blake." I muttered the last part before trying to leave, until his hand gently tugged me towards him.

"I'm sorry, I didn't get your name?" Blake smiled whilst he gazed at me questioningly.

"Ch-Charlotte Bolton." I stuttered out. I tugged one of my curls behind my ear nervously. This was so weird. I had never felt so uncertain and nervous around a guy, including attractive ones. There were plenty on campus at Stanford. I never thought twice about it. School consumed every aspect of my social life.

Eva was right. I am the Virgin Mary of the 21st century.

"Beautiful name for a beautiful girl such as yourself."

"That's a rather cliché line, don't you think, Anderson?" I turned around to see Mr. Hart behind me. His smile seemed relaxed yet I could see his sharp jawline clenched and his eyes harden.

"It would seem so if it weren't true, Hart." Blake stated smoothly. His eyes seemed to harden up as well. I look between the two. They seem to be in some sort of communication. It was as if I was not supposed to be here.