The Last Wild Flower

05| Lavender fields

*This chapter has been edited most recently!****

He offers me a smile, but it doesn't reach his eyes. I force myself to smile in return. My stomach tightens with hope. This could be it, the job that saves my education. In that case, I have to impress the mustache off this man.

I adjust my posture, and fold my hands in front of me, in my typical interview manner. He takes several long steps forward, and props himself on the other couch-each of his arms resting on the sides, in casual elegance. Now across from me, I have a better view of his black-pepper hair and gold watch.

I try not to stare directly, yet, he's also looking at me. But while the size of my eyes must resemble those of a Blythe doll by now, he watches me as if he were studying a painting he considers buying. His eyes skimmer over my body, and I cross my arms again. His gaze moves to the tiny braids on my hair, before settling on my braces. I close my mouth.

"Tell me, what's your name?" He speaks like an aristocrat, or a politician, I'm not sure which.

"Charlie", I say, making sure to leave out my last name.

"Charlie, as in Charlotte, or Charlize?"

"It's just Charlie".

He nods, but I detect a slight frown.

"Can I ask what your name is?" After taking a look at this place, I'm curious to know more about the man behind the castle.

"In a moment, first we have to get through some questions."

I nod, "Okay." My voice comes out soft, and unassuming.

"What are your aspirations Charlie?"

I shift in place, searching for the right words to say. Should I share my entire ten-year plan with this stranger, or should I play it safe?"I want to finish college, and get my master's degree in chemistry." I settle for.

"Yes, those are educational goals." He dismisses my answer, with a wave of a hand. "I'm asking you to think big. What do you really want from life?"

Now it's my turn to frown, what kind of interview is this? I think of all the possible answers I can give him.

When I can't respond with anything, he flashes me another pearly white smile and presses the tips of his fingers together, to form a triangle with his hands-the way I've seen done in business meetings.

"You know what, let me ask you a different question."

I find myself leaning forward, narrowing my eyes like I used to do when I played chess.

"What are you willing to do for a good paycheck?"

I lean back into the couch, "What do you mean?"

"I already have a personal assistant, the kind of assigments you would be doing, would be different."

I don't like were this is going.

"Can you elaborate?" I ask, and start biting the inside of my cheek. The room is colder now. The cool air pierces my skin, and sends an icy chill down my spine.

He tilts his head slightly to the side, and examines me once more. Is he trying to decide whether I'm trustworthy or not?

"My name is Frederick Alderidge, and I own several real estate properties, including a hotel." He stops for my reaction, but I'd never heard that name before, so it doesn't faze me. "This hotel hosts a friendly little club, where a lot of our clients like to gather and socialize." The man sits up straight, and buttons his jacket. "I trust my friends, but a man like me can never be too careful, you understand?"