Princess °° Freddie Highmore [dd/lg]

chapter two:

-- C H A P T E R
T W O --

Have you ever wondered why people had large offices? That was the only thing running through my mind as I stepped foot into Mr. Highmore's office. His space was immaculate: cratered with a leather love seat and conference table, there was beige carpeting, dark-gray walls and a large window plastered in the middle of the room; giving whomever stepped foot in it a grand view of the city of Austin.

"Please," Freddie instructed, his English accent snapping me out of my daze. "have a seat, Ms. Helgard."

I look at the multiple chairs in front of the conference table, and then I look over at the love seat. "Where should I sit?" I inquire. "I don't want to leave things out of order for you."

Freddie tilted his head back and laughed. "What caused you to make that conclusion?" He crosses his arms over his chest, a smirk dancing upon his lips.

"You seem very organized, sir." I reply simply. "It's almost as if you're never here."

"I'm a very busy man, Ms. Helgard," he replies, striding over to the right side of the conference table, grabs a chair smack dead in the middle to where I was standing, and sits down. "I hardly ever come in here for meetings. That's why it appears as if I'm never here." He takes out a cigarette from the packet resting in his blazer pocket, and motions it to me. "Care for a cig?"

I shake my head. "I don't smoke, sir." I reply.

"Very well, then." He takes a match and lights the nicotine stick, and instantly the smell of cigarette smoke wavers through the air. "So, tell me, Ms. Helgard," he continues after he's taken a drag. "why are you wanting to work for me?" the smoke tendrils escape his mouth as he says this, and in an instant I'm attracted to him once again; this magnetic pull he has on me has become evident in my bloodstream, and I can't help but wonder what it would be like to kiss his lips and get a taste of the nicotine.

I immediately shut those thoughts out of my head as I attempt to remain composed for this interview. "I need the money," I reply truthfully.

"Wrong." Freddie says, taking another drag. "that's not why you're in here today."

I look at him almost dumbfounded. "But it's the truth," I reply. "I am not doing too well with my finances, and this job is really the only way I can make ends m --"

"-- Cut it out with the sob story, Ms. Helgard." he cuts me off. "I don't need to know why you're wanting this job," he quips. "I need to know why you're wanting to work for me."

I knit my eyebrows together. "That doesn't make any sense," I reply. "The only answer I can give you is that I need the money."

Freddie puts his cigarette out in a nearby ashtray that was adjacent to me. He then gets up, pivots to a smaller desk, opens a drawer, and takes out two giant stacks of what appeared to be hundred-dollar bills.

"Here you go," he says simply. "That's about two hundred thousand dollars."

I look at him perplexed. "Why are you giving me this?"

The beautiful man towering over me shrugs. "You said you needed the money," he replies. "so I gave you what you needed."

"You're confusing me!" I retort back, now fully frustrated.

"Ms. Helgard," he begins, his hands behind his back as he paces in front of me. "Anyone with a kind heart can give you money," he pauses. "but, if you're going to apply for an occupation such as a receptionist, you need to give a reason. Sometimes, Ms. Helgard, you don't need to give a straightforward answer."

"Why?" I ask, completely perplexed by his analogy. "I thought honesty is the best policy."

He chuckles and there it was again: That flame igniting within my veins. "For McDonald's, yeah," he replies. "but if you're going to be working for me," he says. "You have to be creative with your answers. Even if they're half-truth."

"And why would anyone do that?" I inquire.

He steps forward in front of me, his nose touching mine. "You want the money, don't you?" he asks, his voice sending chills down my spine.

I gulp, feeling intimidated by him. "Y-yeah," I reply finally. "I do."

"So, Ms. Helgard, I'm going to ask you again," he snakes his hand around my lower back, preventing me from falling back on the couch as his sudden closeness nearly made me topple to the ground. "Why are you wanting to work for me?"

With his hand placed on my back, I almost felt like pulling him against me and feel his lips on mine. He was so beautiful, and he was very slick. This man, though I have only heard of him now, knows what he wants and will do whatever it takes to get what he wants. In this case, it's me answering his question with a bullshit answer.

I smirk. "Because, Mr. Highmore," I reply. "You're the best con artist I've ever met," I step forward a little to keep my balance. "and it would be an honor to work for you."

°°

Freddie steps back from holding me close, and smiles in admiration. "Well done, Ms. Helgard," he says finally. "looks like this interview is done." He turns on his heel to the desk he'd previously grabbed his money from. He scribbles something on a sticky note, then walks back over to me.

"Here is the first person I need you to call," he says, "her name is Aubrey, and I want you to inform her that I will be arriving at her residence in about an hour."

"Why can't you tell her yourself?" I ask with a light chortle.

Freddie fixes his blazer. "Like I said before, Ms. Helgard," he states. "I'm a very busy man, and can only do so much."

He starts to head out of his office, when I stop him once again. "Wait!"

His hand is on the doorknob. "Yes, Ms. Helgard?"

"Don't you need your money back?" I ask him.

He shakes his head. "Keep it." He replies as he is exiting. "You need the money, remember?"

°°°