The Segment (Completed)

6. Friends?

Sitting in the back of his black Range Rover, Rich pulled out his phone. Without checking the time, he called his secretary and started rapping out orders, "Stacey, clear my morning tomorrow. I have a meeting at 11.00am with a Ms. Farrah Khan. Prior to her arrival, I need a folder of articles written by Ms. Khan on my desk by 10.00am. Highlight any and every article that has any relation to the royal family. Now I also want you to do a sweep on the official Kensington palace accounts; Twitter, Email, Instagram, everything basically for anything to do with Ms. Khan. Ben will be sending you the relevant information in the next," he pauses and locking eyes with Ben in the rearview mirror, "15 minutes."

"Calling in the troops, eh? What are you planning on doing?" Ben asks raising a brow.

Running his hand along his bearded jaw, Rich looked out the window, "Giving her what she wants."

"Which is what exactly?" Ben asks, brows furrowed.

"Depth."

***

Sitting at the back of the cab, Farrah was so tempted to yank on her hair. Her head was throbbing, and she knew she would be getting some relief if she could just tug her hair a little bit. It was an odd practice yes, but her mother used to do it all the time especially when she was little. And just like magic, after laying her head in her mom's lap and having her tug at Farrah's hair, the pain would seem to dull and slowly melt away. The only thing stopping her is the fact that she had spent almost half an hour braiding her hair in a soft side swept fish tail braid.

She had paid extra attention to how she looked today; navy cigarette pants with a light blue pinstripe shirt. She had rolled the sleeves up her forearm, with the usual watch on her left wrist. She wore her favourite nude heels to give her a bit of height and to ensure she was protected from the cold, she wore the same camel colored coat she had on last night. Fingering the button on the coat, Farrah couldn't help but to go back to last night.

She was so sure that she would be able to at least get the prince to consider her proposal, but the dinner turned awkward after her jab at his personal life. If there was a 'biggest idiot in the world' contest, I would win, Farrah huffed. All the flirting and sparring aside, she should have known that she shouldn't have pushed him that much. And calling him shallow and superficial to his face.....idiot, idiot Farrah, she breathed deeply trying to calm her nerves. To keep her hands occupied she quickly pulled out her compact mirror from her oversized leather tote and checked her reflection. Her makeup was still pristine and her red lips still bold. With all the nerves that she was feeling, she needed a boost of confidence and it came in the form of nude heels and her lips painted a deep red.

Arriving 15 minutes early, Farrah stepped out of the cab after having paid the cabbie and tried to compose herself. Her nerves were getting the best of her and now not only was her head throbbing, she felt nauseous too. Oh God, I hope I don't throw up in front of Rich, she thought closing her eyes. Taking a deep breath, she opened her eyes and looked around. She had always wanted to love the posher parts of London but being in Mayfair just made her feel uncomfortable. There was not a hair out of place, or even a stray piece of lint to her clothes, her make up immaculate and her accessories designer; yet she still felt like an outsider. Like she didn't belong there.

Squaring her shoulders and clenching her jaw, Farrah walked up the stairs to the front door and pressed on the buzzer. There was no sign or plaque to mark whose offices these were, all that was there was a number, 28, in cast iron above the buzzer next to the black door. The door opened and she was greeted with a familiar face of Ben. She immediately broke out into a smile, "Good morning," she said softly.