Chapter 7

• When we went out of his office, the four lovely ladies flinched when they saw us walking out together. They looked at me and Benedict as if it was the first time they ever saw him walking a woman out from his office. Even the look on their eyes could kill me this instant.
• But I didn't mind them, I'm still bothered that I didn't get to ask more questions than I should have. It was my only chance. It took them three weeks and two days to give me a call, I'm sure I'll be waiting for another week just for another interview with him.
• I groan inwardly.
• "Coral." He called out.
• "Yes sir?" The lady who welcomed me answered him.
• "Cancel my meeting with the Japanese investors and my lunch meeting at Henri's." He instructed.
• I was left here squirming next to him while I was busy flickering my fingers together as I watch Coral's eyes widened with what he said. She glared at me.
• "I want my schedule clear after my board meeting." Benedict added.
• Coral nods. "Yes sir."
• Benedict stopped and felt him spinning around to face me. I took a step back when I felt his towering height over me.
• "Miss Thibault."
• I quickly pulled my head up to him and his green eyes makes my mind go wander off somewhere not allowed to.
• "Yes Mr. Saintclare?"
• "Stay behind." He speaks.
• My heart leaps. What does he mean?
• "My board meeting will probably just be an hour." He adds.
• Oh my god.
• "But Mr. Saintclare it's three hours and--"
• "I say an hour." He cuts off Coral and turned his attention back at me.
• "If you still stick around then maybe you would be lucky but not rest assured." He said sternly.
• I smiled and felt like hugging him for a thank you. But instead I kept my hands to myself and just kept smiling at him even though he's looking at me emotionlessly. I'm still so happy.
• "I'll take the risk of waiting. Thank you Mr. Saintclare. This is a huge honor." I chimed.
• I don't know why he asked me to stay when he's known for not letting reporters have a personal one on one interview with him. Consider me lucky? Not yet, he said himself its still not rest assured but I could wait. There's no harm. When I think about how strict and cold he is, at least he'd let me interview him again. I didn't know he'd be nice to me, if he's actually really being this nice. I didn't even charm him, I mean look at me. I look like a mess in front of the world renowned Ben Saintclare.
• "I'll see you later, Miss Thibault." He says as he walks away from me.
• I kept smiling so happily knowing that I will be able to ask him more questions for my article. I squealed inwardly.
• My head moved to the four ladies who were still looking at me. The other three continued taking calls again and ignored me while Coral was the only one left to stare at me intently.
• "At least be presentable enough in front of Mr. Saintclare. Look at you." Coral spat.
• I looked at myself. "I was in pot making when I received the text so I rushed here as soon as I read the time."
• Coral rolled her eyes at me, "Comfort room's that way if you don't mind." She gestured before she sits ack down and continued to take calls.
• I walked my way to the bathroom shyly and once I got inside I take a deep breath in. I walked closer to the sink and stared at my own reflection on the huge mirror that was in front of me.
• Fuck I look like shit when I faced Ben.
• I grabbed some plies of tissue and started wetting it with running water then began to rub it against the dirt on my neck. I tried to rub it off and placed some soap on the tissue, at least it's kind of disappearing now. I seriously want to go home and have a quick change or maybe a bath too but I don't want to miss this chance that Ben gave me. He's hard to find and its hard to set an appointment with him.
• I groan. "Never mind what I look."
• After a while, I walked back to the row of chairs and sat down quietly. The quietness of this building is creepy. It's nothing like Lure Magazine because the people from our building is always talking and laughing whenever Mrs. Victoria is inside her office.
• Unlike this building, it is eerily quiet. Almost creepy as hell because the only things that are making sounds around here are the ding coming from the elevator, the sound of the telephones ringing, and the soft murmurs from those four ladies taking continual calls.
• My eyes moved down to my feet, damn my converse are pretty damn dirty right now. What a perfect timing for me to receive that kind of text at such same time I was playing with clay. I groan inwardly again knowing that people will remember me as the girl in coveralls with dirt all over her coming to a prestigious office like Saintclare Enterprises.
• Later, after an hour or two, I think I finished every game that I have on my phone waiting for Ben to finish from his board meeting. But as a reporter, I need to keep in mind that I need to have more patience upon interviewing this kind of high profiled person because I'm just starting and I'm already tasked to write an article about England's sweet darling of a manwhore. I should feel more privileged to be doing this, to be interviewing Benedict Saintclare.
• I'm already starving and my stomach's already hurting. It needs foods. My mouth is looking for something to chew on. Argh, I feel like my stomach is about to make a sound soon. Oh please not.