I slept fitfully the rest of the night, tossing and turning as the echoes of screams played and replayed in my head. The magical spell of the mansion was broken and I saw that there were cracks in the perfect façade. I felt relief as the first rays of morning sun finally broke through the darkness and poured through my window, bathing me in the safety of their golden glow.
Chapter 3.
I waited until 7:00 to get dressed in my most professional grey pencil-skirt and a pink blouse. I splashed some cold water on my face and brushed out my long brown hair until it shined. I wanted to look professional and capable when I met my employer. The bags under my eyes betrayed my fitful night of sleep. I dabbed on a bit of concealer to make myself look more awake, and swiped on a small amount of gloss and mascara. I had never been very good at doing detailed makeup since it was not something my parents approved of, but I felt that I would look out of place in such a fancy environment without at least a little bit of help.
I wandered downstairs, glad that I was able to retrace the steps that Jane and I had taken the night before. I smelled the incredible roasted aroma of coffee as I walked into the bright, cheerful kitchen. A large pot of coffee was waiting on the counter, along with piping hot eggs, buttered toast, and a bowl of fresh fruit salad. I opened the cabinets until I found the mugs and poured myself a steaming cup of coffee. After piling some food on a plate, I walked over to the long wooden table and picked a seat where I would have a good view of the gardens while I ate my breakfast.
Jane hobbled in cheerfully as I put the last spoonful of fresh fruit to my mouth. “Oh good, you’re awake,” she said cheerfully as she poured her own mug of coffee. “You’ll find that Mr. Harrison appreciates an early riser. Oh, here is an itinerary he left for you.” She slowly walked over with her coffee and handed me a folded piece of paper.
I took the paper and looked down at the handwritten instructions. The handwriting was neat and masculine, but there was old world elegance to the way each letter curved slightly at the ends. My employer had written out a short schedule for me. I was to report to him in his study at 8:00 and then he had various tasks listed for the rest of the day. I hoped he would explain what the phrases like “organize client portfolios for board meeting” involved since I had never worked in any organization more complicated than the Mercy River Evangelical Church before that day.
I brought my dishes to the sink, where Jane assured me someone else would wash them. I felt uneasy leaving a mess for someone else to clean, but I knew it was important for me to be on time to meet my employer and make a good first impression.
I walked back down the cavernous hallways, getting slightly turned around until I found the door that Jane had said led to Mr. Harrison’s study. I glanced down at my wristwatch: it was 7:55. I shifted on my feet nervously, unsure if I should knock right away or wait five minutes and be exactly on time. I wished I had asked Jane more questions about my employer before heading up, but it was too late now. I smoothed down my hair and skirt, then took a deep breath and knocked sharply on the door.
“Come in,” the smooth, deep voice called from inside.
I pushed the heavy door open and looked into the long, bright room.
My employer was sitting at his large, oak desk on the other side of the room. He stood as I entered and the first thing I noticed was his height. He towered over my petit 5’3 frame, yet he was neither gangly nor burly. His body was muscular without being bulky, somehow elegant and masculine at the same time. He was by far the most attractive man I had ever seen, like a model in a business magazine with perfectly golden tanned skin and sharp, contoured features. Just the sight of him sent a thrill through my body. He wore a dark, expensive-looking and perfectly tailored suit that gave off an air of authority. He looked cold and imposing, despite the tiny smile that played at his lips as I walked towards him.
“Blake Harrison,” his deep, sensual voice intoned as he stretched out a hand. “Please, have a seat.” He gestured to the chair that sat opposite his desk.
I studied my employer as I slid into the seat and perched on the edge, my legs crossed to the side and my hands crossed in my lap carefully. Everything about this man was intimidating. From his sharp, perfectly cut bone structure to his piercing green eyes and chestnut hair marked by a few small streaks of grey, Mr. Harrison looked like the epitome of a CEO. He looked to be in his mid forties, but he didn’t have any of the settled, slowed-down appearance of many men that age. He was incredibly attractive, but not in a silly, boyish way. His appearance screamed of intelligence, sophistication, money, and power. Everything about him was sharp, from the cut of his jaw to the fit of his suit.
I felt like a silly little small town girl next to this man. I was worried he would send me home right away when he saw that I could never fit in in such a place, never live up to the sophistication of his world.
“So Grace Martin, I understand from the email you sent me that you have no prior business experience.”
“No,” I admitted, swallowing hard under his icy gaze.
“Good,” he responded.
I looked up in surprise. “Good?” I repeated in confusion.
“I find so many schools and businesses instill terrible habits in people. I’ve tried hiring many people who’ve had all original and creative thought stomped out of them by the time they reach me. I would rather hire someone who is smart and motivated, but is a clean slate.” Mr. Harrison kept his gaze leveled at me as he spoke.
I was too afraid to even blink and break his intense eye contact. Something about my new employer terrified me. I couldn’t put my finger on exactly what it was. So far he had been generous and welcoming, but there was something behind his sharp green eyes and in the way he looked at me that made me feel uneasy.
“Here are some client portfolios,” Mr. Harrison said, handing me a huge stack of binders. “I want you to go through each one and reorganize the information in a clear, visually pleasing, and intelligent way. Use your judgment. Leave them outside my office when you are done.”
I nodded as I lifted the heavy stack with both arms and placed it on my lap.
He continued. “This afternoon, I would like you to compile some research on each of these clients for me to look over. I need you to be thorough because I will be using it to come up with my presentation to the board on what direction we should be taking when I retake my position there later this month.”
“I understand,” I replied, my voice coming out as a small nervous squeak. I flushed, feeling his judgmental eyes on me.
“That will be all.”
“Thank you.” My voice came out more composed, so I pressed further. “And thank you for taking the chance on hiring me. You won’t be disappointed.”
Mr. Harrison looked up from the papers he had already turned his attention to and gave me a long, thoughtful look.
“That remains to be seen,” was his only reply as he returned his attention to the papers.
I grabbed the binders and hoisted them up in my arms, trying my best to walk out of the room with poise and confidence. Instead, my arms and legs wobbled as I tried to carry the heavy binders while balancing on the heels of the shiny black pumps that I wasn’t used to wearing.
I found my way to the library that Jane had pointed out the night before. I managed to turn the doorknob slightly while pushing against the door with my hip. The door swung open and I tumbled forward, dropping several of the binders.
“Shoot!” I shouted, an aversion to curse words instilled in me from years bible school training and parents who threatened to put a bar of soap in my mouth. I quickly plopped the remaining binders on the nearest table and leaned down to pick up the dropped papers. I breathed a sigh of relief that all of the papers remained close to their respective binders and I was able to reassemble them quickly.
I looked around the library in awe. It reminded me of the library from Beauty and the Beast, with high walls of books, and small spiral staircases on either side of the room. T
he ceiling was painted with a beautiful mural of the sun and clouds on one side, growing darker and turning into a clear night sky with the moon and twinkling stars on the either. I looked around, wishing I had time to explore and look through all the books. If I lived here, I would spend every day in this library, reading a new book, I thought to myself.
I lay all the binders out on the table in front of me and stared at them for a moment as the panic rose inside of me. I had no idea what Mr. Harrison was looking for and I didn’t know anything about his advertising business or his clients. I was so far out of my element. Maybe my parents had been right. Maybe I was better suited for a simpler life.
As soon as the thought entered my head, I knew it was wrong. That life was not for me. I would do whatever I needed to do to prove that to myself, to Mr. Harrison, and to my parents. I took a deep breath and opened the first binder.
The first client was a company that made fancy yogurts and wanted to expand their market. The binder contained a lot of research that Harrison Media had done regarding yogurt consumption, people’s attitudes regarding yogurt, statistics on yogurt sales, and focus groups on possible ad campaigns. I quickly read over all the materials, and once I was done the task no longer seemed so daunting. I organized the materials in order of logic and importance, with the client overviews first and then each ad campaign together with the various statistics that supported each one.
I flew through the rest of the binders, learning about Harrison Media’s various clients, which included a high-end fashion company, a small vineyard, and a new artisanal food company, among others. I found myself excitedly reading through each binder, drinking in the information and creating a story in my head for each client as I read. Once I had that story, organizing the information was easy.
Within a few hours, I had reorganized all the binders. I felt a sense of satisfaction as I surveyed my work. I felt confident that Mr. Harrison would be pleased with what I had done. I gathered up the binders and carefully walked down the hall again until I reached his office. I knocked gently on the door.
“Who is it?” His deep, sharp voice called out curtly.
“It’s Grace,” I replied meekly, opening the door slightly. “I finished the binders.”
I saw Mr. Harrison hunched over his desk. His hair looked disheveled and his face, which had looked so strong and confident earlier, had a crumpled look to it. “I told you to leave them outside,” he spat at me, clutching something in his hand. “Never open that door unless I give you permission.” His eyes flashed angrily as he spoke, crumpling whatever he had been holding.
I stumbled backwards under his angry gaze, feeling the blood run out of my face as he stood and slammed his fist against the table. I quickly placed the binders on the chair nearest to the door and started backing out of the room.
“I…I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to disturb you,” I stuttered. “I’ll leave immediately.”
“No. You will stay.” His voice was commanding, cold.
I stopped in my tracks, unsure of what to do.
“Come bring me the binders. We might as well see if you will be of any use to me,” Mr. Harrison’s face had returned to the mask of calm authority that he had worn earlier. It looked so easy on him, but now I knew it was hiding something darker and more human.
He took the binders from me and opened them, one at a time, flipping through the pages and only pausing briefly. He didn’t say a word as he quickly worked his way through the pile.
I stood anxiously, biting my bottom lip as I watched him examine my work. I tried my best not to fidget or look nervous, but my heart pounded so loudly I was sure my employer could hear it. Despite his generosity so far, I was fairly certain that Mr. Harrison would send me packing right away if he thought I was of no use to him.
After a few agonizing minutes, he closed the last binder and moved the whole pile over to the side of his huge desk. I took a deep breath and looked at him expectantly. His calm, chiseled face revealed nothing as he looked at me impassively. I felt like he was trying to read something in me, like the test wasn’t over.
Finally, he spoke. “Surprisingly, you are not completely hopeless,” was all he said in a calm tone.
I stared at him, confused. Did he mean that I had done a good job or just that I hadn’t done such a bad job that he was ready to send me home right away? I wanted to ask for clarification, but Mr. Harrison had already turned to his computer and his demeanor did not invite any further conversation.
I left his office feeling more confused than ever. I wanted so badly to impress my employer, but he was an impossible man to read. After a hurried lunch eaten standing at the counter, I spent the rest of the afternoon holed up in the library with my laptop, researching Harrison Media and their clients.
I found a wealth of information almost immediately and found myself regretting not having done my research before I came here. Mr. Harrison had built his advertising empire from nothing. During his twenties he had risen from a complete unknown to become the CEO of one of the largest advertising firms in the entire world. Harrison Media had created some of the most iconic ad campaigns in recent years and turned huge profits year after year.
I was able to find very little about Mr. Harrison himself though, other than the basic biographical information. He was rarely photographed outside of business settings. Scrolling through thumbnails of the basic company headshots, one photo caught my eye. It wasn’t just the standard company photo of Blake Harrison looking calmly at the camera. I clicked to enlarge it. The photo was from about a decade ago, when Mr. Harrison was in his thirties. He was at some sort of party, with his arm around a tall, beautiful brunette. The woman was smiling up at him, an adoring look on her face, while Mr. Harrison grinned broadly into the camera. The smile looked so natural on his younger face, but it was hard for me to imagine that this was the same man I had met earlier.
I needed to finish my research, but something about that photo tugged at me. I quickly hit print and went back to my research. By evening, I had compiled a large stack of research on Harrison Media and all of its current clients. I organized the piles as best I could, carefully tabbing the parts that seemed important. I had no idea if Mr. Harrison would find my work to be sufficient, but I knew that I had done the best I could.
I quietly placed the stack of research outside Mr. Harrison’s office, and then wandered down to the kitchen. A delicious, herby smell wafted down the hall as I approached the stairway to the kitchen. I paused at the doorway. Jane and Marshall were already seated across from each other at the long table and were having a heated, but whispered conversation. Marshall looked up, his eyes meeting mine just as Jane started to speak again.
“Help yourself to some dinner, Grace,” Marshall said gruffly, cutting off Jane before she could say anything.
Jane looked over and gave me a weak smile. “Yes, please come join us Grace. And try some of the potatoes with the roast chicken. Tammy puts chives and thyme in them. We would love to hear about how your first day of working with Mr. Harrison went.”
I quickly loaded my plate with some food and sat down next to Jane. She seemed happy enough to have me there, but Marshall just stared at his plate as I sat down. I wondered if he was always this antisocial or if he just didn’t like me.
“Today went okay,” I said to Jane after taking a bite of the creamy potatoes. “I just can’t tell if Mr. Harrison likes my work or not. He is so hard to read.”
Jane laughed. “That he is. But don’t worry, you would know if he was displeased with your work. If his reaction was lukewarm, it means you did a great job.” She smiled at me reassuringly, but I still felt something was wrong. Jane’s kindness was genuine, but the closer I looked, the more I thought her cheerfulness was hiding something. There was a sadness in her eyes that didn’t disappear, even when she smiled.
I slept soundly that night. I thought I heard a distant scream at one point, but it may have just been part of my dream. When I woke up, I couldn’t re
member my dreams, other than a vague feeling of unease. I pulled back the heavy silk curtains to let the light into my room and instantly felt better. A hot shower, complete with fancy shampoo and conditioner that Jane had left for me, completely washed away all my unease. It was a new day and I was ready to get to work and prove myself.
I got dressed in my favorite green wrap dress with a light brown leaf pattern print, and then hurried down to the kitchen. A breakfast of freshly made, creamy oatmeal and toppings was laid out on the marble countertop. I helped myself to a bowl and topped it with some fresh berries, before going to find my seat at the table.
As I sat down, I noticed a folded piece of paper at the end of the table. It was simply labeled “Grace.” I reached over and grabbed it, curious. The handwriting was beautiful and feminine, if slightly shaky. I knew it was from Jane right away.
Grace dear,
Mr. Harrison has other matters to attend to today. You have the day to do as you please. He asked that you report back to him tomorrow morning.
Twisted Rogue (The Twisted Love and Rogue Love Collection) Page 3