The Millionaire's Bargain

Prologue

Prologue

                                                           CROMWELL ENTERPRISES

Brooke Palinto stood staring at the huge gold plated sign that hung over the doors of the fifty storeyed glass building. Taking a deep breath, she climbed the tiled steps and was greeted by a burly doorman. Dressed in the company's signature Brunswick green uniform, he stood tall and impeccable. Smiling, she greeted him "Good morning Mr. Wells". He looked up, surprised that someone had noticed his nametag and addressed him with politeness.

"Good morning, ma'am". Breaking into a huge grin, he pushed open the huge double doors and allowed her into the building. Gathering her confidence, Brooke made her way to the middle of the ground floor, where the reception desk stood. Her heels echoed along the marble floors as she walked briskly. There were three receptionists attending to the everyday throng of Wall Street vendors. 

"Good morning. How may I help you?" asked one of the employeeys behind the high granite desk. looking across his uniform, Brooke noted his name. It was just her way of being formal but friendly; when she addressed people by their names. It made her feel less nervous. 

"Good morning... George. I'm here to see Mr. Bingley. I have an appointment". 

"Just a moment please". Quickly he checked his computer and confirmed the eleven o'clock placing. "Yes, he's expecting you. First door on the third level".

Heading towards the elevator, Brooke couldn't help but feel overwelmed. Here she was, in one of the biggest investing companies in New York, about to be interviewed for a job. As she rode in the elevator, she thought of what she would do if she wasn't offered the job. Where would she go? How would she be able to maintain herself?

Shaking her head clear as the doors opened, Brooke stepped onto the third floor and easily found the room she room she was looking for. It stood adjacent to the row of elevators. Mentally composing herself, Brooke walked up to the little secretary's desk that stood to the side. 

"Brooke Palinto. I'm here to see Mr. Bingley for an interview". 

"Yes, he should be finishing up with a client. Please have a seat". The nasaly voice belonged to an overweight, mousey coloured hair secretary who never once looked up from her computer. Sighing inwardly, Brooke made her way over to the plush waiting sofa that extended along the walls of every office of the floor. Ten minutes later, a man in a black suit exited the office and spoke to the secretary who made notes in a little red diary. Brooke noted wryly that the secretary had no problem looking up at the businessman, fully focusing on his face, hanging onto his every word. 

After he left, the secretary busied herslf with arranging papers when the intercom buzzed on her desk. She picked up the phone and listened for a monent. "Okay Sir". Then she waved Brooke towards the office, a bland look on her face. 

Grateful, Brooke got up and pushed the door of the office and stepped inside. The old greying mustache caught her immediately and she found myself smiling as the man got up to shake her hand. "Ms. Brooke Palinto, its a pleasure to meet you. Please have a seat". He gestured her to a chair stationed across from his desk. 

Twenty minutes later, Brooke left the room feeling as though her head would burst from excitment. She'd gotten the job. Mr. Bingley was so impressed by her resume, he offered her a job she was not expecting. Instead of initally putting Brooke to work in his department, he propositioned that she work with the Accounting Department. Brooke had kindly refused, telling him that she was comfortable working in his department. But he insisted, thereby not allowing her much say. She didn't want to argue about whether she preferred working with clients rather that deal with the Board Members themselves, when she' d just landed herself a much needed job.

Brooke passed Mr. Bingley's secretary without so much as glancing in her direction. As she skipped into the elevator, Brooke caught her staring at her. What a perfectly uninteresting creature, she thought. Thank goodness, she wouldn't need to see her on a daily basis! 

Heading out of the building, Brooke couldn't help but feel light and airy and she beamed as the doorman held the door for her. "Have a good day ma'am". 

"Have a wonderful day, Mr. Wells". And with that, she crossed the busy street and headed for her car. Once inside, she turned up the heat to full blasting. She hadn't realised how cold the quick walk from the Cromwell Enterprises to her car had made her. She loosened her grip on the blue trench coat she wore, as warmth started to seep into the car.  

The cold November day did nothing to dampen Brooke's spirits. She quickly parked her car and headed into the little boutique that had been her rescue for five years. Pushing the door, she entered and was greeted by a squeal.

"Brooke! How did it go?" asked Casey, her green eyes lighitng up with curiosity. 

"Well, atleast let me sit down first". Brooke tried to find a place amongst all the desidner clothing strewn across the leather couch in the corner of the boutique. "Don't you clean up? Geez!  Cass, look at that silk shirt creasing. It's a crime against fashion!". Brooke looked at the blue sequined dinner shirt lying in a crumpled heap on the handle of the couch. 

Casey let out a snort. "Oh please, Brooke! Really, you're talking about fashion. Have you forgotten all about your outcast closet that I've been filling for atleast seven years now?" She laughed and  Brooke thought back to what her best friend meant.

Brooke had met Casey London back in college, when Casey had walked up to her out of the blue and pointed out that Brooke had killer legs and that the fashion Gods would kill her for hiding them in knee - high striped socks and a sundress. Back then, Brooke hadn't thought much about the way she dressed. Ever since that day, the two had become best friends at Berkeley and had even moved in together when Casey came to New York to live.

"Besides, all my staff are still on their luch break and I can't afford to leave the desk to put these clothes back. Customers always barge in right around this time". 

"Aright, I'll help you, this one time. By the way, I got the job". Brooke said as she got up and started collecting clothing. 

"Thanks Br... You got the job?! Omigod, I knew you would. You've got the brains!!", Casey squealed.

"Yea, well let's hope I'll be good at it".

"Good? You're going to be absolutely fab at this job!". Brooke smiled and silently prayed that Casey was right. Lord knows how much this job meant to her. Leaving Casey, she headed to the racks of clothing to rearrange them according to designer. Three hours later, with the help of one of Casey's assistants, Brooke had helped oraginse the scores of brands and  finally left, before Casey coerced her into doing more work. 

Dropping onto the beat up red sofa that she and Casey had bought at a flea market, Brooke inched out of her heels and pulled out her cellphone. After the second ring, a woman answered. "Hey Mom! What's up?" Brooke tried to keep the excitment in her vocie at bay, but failed miserably.

"Brooke! h=How are you? How did the interview go? Did you ge the job?" Viola Palinto sounded nervous.

"Mom, everything's fine. I got the job!". Brooke waited for her mother to stop thanking God, before she added, "I start on Monday". 

 "Oh Brooke, I'm so glad. I hope things will go smoothly. keep me updated". There was tension in Viola's voice, but Brooke understood her apprehension. They chatted for a while and then Brooke hung up. Casey had texted her to say that she would be late and not to wait up for her. Brooke guessed she had a date. She was so exhausted that she took a quick shower and went straight off to bed, without remebering she hadn't anything to eat.

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