After hours

Chapter Three

Daniel glanced nervously at me. "Nice dress." He muttered with a hint of sarcasm.

I looked down at my dress suddenly very self conscious. It was just a plain pink dress, that fanciest thing about it was the white belt around the waist. "I'm sorry Mr. Metzgar. I thought it would be appropriate."

"Daniel, it's Daniel how many times do I have to tell you? And It is very appropriate. Benson hates appropriate."

"You want me to dress like a whore." I said flatly.

"Oh no, no, no. Of course not. I couldn't even legally imply that." He scrunched his face up. "I just, erm, no. You look very nice." I noted the tips of his ears turning pink

"Thanks." I said with little sincerity.

"Now remember, just present the information and I'll take it from there."

"I know the information Daniel."

He nodded but looked doubtful. I couldn't really blame him, he had a long string of bimbo assistants, and I was new at this. But I wasn't trying to be jobless, and I could admittedly use the money. Badly. I don't want to say I was poor or anything, but I was down to one ply toilet paper and my shitty apartment building had a 15% rent increase weeks after I started here. I was prepared for this.

When the cab pulled up in front of the nice fancy Italian hotel I grimaced. He patting my knee reassuringly. "Don't get out of the car, let me come around and open the door for you." He instructed.

I fiddled with the hem of my skirt as I waited. He opened the door for and I accepted his hand in helping me from the cab.

"Ryan!" Patrick beamed, when he'd suddenly gotten there I wasn't sure.

I covered my surprise quickly with a fake smile. "Patrick!" I said and allowed him to kiss my cheek.

"Metzgar." He said in a flat tone to Daniel.

My smile widened. Daniel shook his hand properly, when Patrick turned with the other men and started into the hotel Daniel closed his eyes, took a deep breathe, and then started after them. He was nervous.

We were seated at a table for six, though there were only five of us, something I noticed immediately as there were round tables set for five all around the restaurant. "Are we expecting another?"

"Nothing gets past you." Patrick said seeming pleased with my observation. "We're expecting my son, he is, of course late. That damn mother of his she knows I was to get him at seven."

"Oh." I said never letting my smile falter even though the idea of a nine year old dressed in soccer gear and flinging food across the restaurant with his spoon flooded my mind. I hadn't prepared for that.

We were halfway through our appetizers. Daniel and I hadn't touched them we were too busy talking. The idea had already been pitched and interest shown, now we had to go over the building plans, discuss operations, how many people would it take to run the company, how the profits would outweigh the expenses.

Patrick stood up suddenly. "There he is. Pat, get over here!" He shouted across the hotel dining area.

I turned and scanned the crowd, looking for the shortest person visible.

"Ryan, Metzgar, this is my son Patrick Benson Junior." Patrick said opening his arm up to allow his son to fill the open space.

He was not what I was expecting.

He was tall, and handsome, finely sculpted body and neat blonde hair, his teeth were absolutely perfect, a trait most silver spooned children had, and he had the cutest indent in the center of his chin. My uncle had one as well, he called it his 'butt chin.' He was attractive to say the least. Attractive, but spoiled. Another rich kid who had a billion dollar company dropped onto their lap. He didn't even have the decency to show up on time to the second to last meeting we would have. And where had he been for all the previous meetings? I had to fight hard to suppress an eye roll.