Chapter 9

• Two days after losing her job and her ensuing encounter with Mr Scott, Willow came home from one of her late evening walks to see a man standing right outside her door. She looked around to see if anyone else was about before approaching him. It was a delivery. He had a package for her.
• "I didn't order for anything, you must have the wrong address." Willow told him but the young man insisted it was the right address and gave her a form to sign. After that was done, he left, leaving her standing there with a parcel in her hands and her mind wondering. Once inside, she placed the bag on a table and opened it to reveal a box. The brand name made her gasp. She opened the box. Inside it were two sleek black heels encased in fancy wrappings.
• "Wow!" She exclaimed, looking them over.
• "I absolutely have to wear you!" They were perfectly her size. She palmed them in delight. Not wanting to think about how much they cost, she placed them neatly back into the box.
• "Who could have sent these?" She wondered aloud. She thumped the box looking for a note. There wasn't any. No friend came to mind.
• In a rush if anticipation, she went over to the dining table, where she kept her purse. Her fingers clamped on the rectangular object. She fingered the cursive orthography. She didn't think she would regret the choice of not having a phone. Now she did. She slid Simon Scott's business card back into her purse.
• Willow walked into the kitchen and fished out baking items. She was going to bake a cake. She always baked what she calls a happy cake, whenever she was happy. Right now, she is happy.
• "Hmm, what flavour?" She thought aloud. Among the different options available, she settled on cream. The adding and mixing of ingredients soon took her mind off everything else. After she placed the batter in the oven and set the timer, she went to the living room and reclined on the sofa. She turned on the TV, flicked through different channels.
• "Can't I get something nice to watch without paying subscription?" She questioned no one in particular. After settling on a show that didn't appeal all too well to her, she crossed her ankles, folded her arms, and counted down the minutes it would take the oven timer to go off.
• Tomorrow, she would get back to work. For now, she was Willow Henderson, mourning the loss of her job and wondering who sent her the beautiful pair of shoes. She smiled as she remembered the story of Cinderella and her prince charming. Willow and her prince charming, She mused. In her case, both shoes have been sent right to her and it's the identity of the prince that's unknown. She had a fairly good guess on who the Prince was though. Except, he wasn't her prince charming and would never be. Neither in this world, nor the next.
• - - - - -
• Simon's Scott's day has just gone from bad to worse, his last meeting was a colossal disaster, he hasn't eaten in the last six hours and his next meeting was in seventeen minutes. His head felt hot as it pounded away. Being the city's best billionaire didn't always mean living your best days.
• His office door opened abruptly. He didn't need to look to know who it was. Only one person did that and got away with it.
• Maxwell, the leading guy among his men and a friend of Scott, strode in.
• "What did they say?" Scott asked as he swiveled his seat.
• "An apology."
• "What?"
• "Rogers wants an apology." Maxwell elaborated.
• Scott scoffed in response. "Well, give him an apology."
• "I did."
• "So?"
• "It wasn't accepted. He is requesting an apology…from you."
• "He won't get it!"
• "But that.."
• "That's my final answer." Scott said. Maxwell stood quiet then said again, "We need this Scott." Maxwell was the only one among his men to address him by name and with good reason. Scott flicked a pen open and shut.
• "If an apology to that idiot is how we get the deal, I don't want it!" The pen snapped.
• Maxwell nodded and turned towards the door. "They're still in the conference room, waiting for you. What should I tell them?"
• "Tell them they have less than a minute to haul their idiotic selves off my property."
• "Yes boss." Maxwell softly closed the door behind him.
• Simon grunted but he looks at his bruised knuckles and grins. Whatever slight abrasementtttggff his skin got was all worth it. Rogers got the worse of their squabble. He remembered the satisfying crunch of bones when he punched his jaw. Next time, Rogers would learn to shut his mouth when he had nothing sensible to say.
• His office door opened again and his secretary came inside. "Your next meeting is in eight minutes," she said.
• "Cancel it."
• "Uh?"
• "Cancel it." Scott told her again.
• "Yes boss." She said, her heels clicking as made her way out.
• "Hold on," Scott called her back. When she got to his desk, he pulled a sticky note, scribbled something on it and passed it over to her.
• "I want you to deliver the best pair of heels you can get, to this address." His secretary collected the note from him.
• "Yes Sir! What size should they be?" She asked.
• "39" Scott said, without hesitation. He smiled as he remembered the events with the waitress from the other day. Willow Henderson. There was something about her that made him want to know her. And he couldn't altogether deny that he had enjoyed the time he spent with her.
• After his secretary left, Scott made quick work of completing the work he had before him, then he turned off his system, and opened one of the drawers in his desk to reveal a safe. He tapped in a pass code and took out an ipad. Powering it on, he tapped icons that displayed what he wanted. Soon, the images of several women filled the screen. Scott scrolled through them, looked and observed, then sighed. He powered off the device. He put it back into the safe, tidied the office, picked up his keys and walked out. It was time to check on the other one of his businesses.