Chapter 2 #2
I nodded, feeling tears burn the back of my eyes. Logan had always been my champion, even as his own popularity soared. There was always a girlfriend, always invitations to ski trips and lake houses that I could only dream of.
"No. I'm not special. I'm average," I whispered.
"Vaughn doesn't think you're average."
I snorted, bitterness creeping into my voice. "He wants to fuck me. I would be another notch in his belt."
Logan clenched his jaw, slapping his hand over his mouth as he laughed. I frowned, confused by his sudden mirth.
"What?" I demanded.
"Do you realize if you marry Colson, you'll be Vaughn's stepmother?"
The absurdity of it hit me, and I found myself joining in his laughter. Not only would I be stepmother to Vaughn, who had lusted after me for years, but also to Simone, who despised me. The idea of having power over her was darkly satisfying.
"Could you imagine?" I choked out between giggles.
As our laughter subsided, Logan's expression grew serious. He grabbed my hand, his grip tight. "I want you to be careful. I don't understand why he has to make marriage like a job interview. With his wealth, you'd think he could find a woman willing to marry him."
I shrugged, uncertainty gnawing at me. "I don't know the reason, but I'll make sure to keep a low profile. I wonder how many women he sent invitations to."
"Does it matter? You have just as much chance to be chosen as any of the others and I don't like those odds."
Logan drained his glass, setting it on the floor before pulling me into a fierce hug.
He had always been my protector, but we both knew he couldn't shield me from this.
As I clung to him, I tried to memorize the feeling of safety in his arms, knowing that in two days' time, I might be stepping into a world where such comfort would be a distant memory.
He left me and though anxiety gnawed at my chest, I was able to grab a few hours of sleep.
I was in my cubicle at my usual 7:45 a.m. despite my exhaustion.
Since I started at AFC, I had never called in sick even when I was sick, masking my illness with plenty of medication and crawling into bed the minute I got home.
A chill set over me and when I turned, Colson Ashworth was standing at the entrance to my cubicle. He was impeccably dressed in a navy suit and light blue tie, his shoes so shiny they gleamed in the fluorescent lights.
“Miss Shaw.”
I turned in my chair and straightened my back. “Yes, sir?”
“I’d like to see you in my office.”
He turned on his heel and walked away. It was odd since he could’ve sent his assistant down to get me or called my line to summon me to his office. Colson never did anything without purpose. I rose, smoothing the skirt of my royal blue dress.
I looked around the office to see several people craning their necks to watch me as I walked toward the elevator. I didn’t expect Colson to be holding the car for me.
“Get in, Miss Shaw, I don’t have all day.”
I hurried inside as he pressed the button for the executive floor. I hugged the opposite corner, feeling the chill I always felt around Colson.
“Are you afraid of me?” he asked.
I knitted my eyebrows together. “Not at all.”
“Then why do you look like you want to crawl into a hole?”
I stumbled over my words. “I’m…I’m sorry.”
“Follow me,” he said as he stepped out of the elevator.
It felt like I was heading to my execution.
I passed by Vaughn’s closed door and Simone’s open one.
She couldn’t resist giving me the finger as I walked by.
I quickly stepped into Colson’s office, and he closed the door.
I’d never been in here before, but it was what I expected for the President and CEO of a multi-billion dollar corporation.
My breath caught in my throat as I looked around.
The sheer size of the space was overwhelming, a testament to his power and wealth.
My eyes were immediately drawn to the floor-to-ceiling windows that dominated two walls, offering a stunning view of Midtown Manhattan.
The city sprawled beneath us, a glittering tapestry of lights and movement that made me feel small and insignificant.
“Come,” he commanded.
As Colson led me further into the room, I took in the three distinct areas.
To my right, a sitting area with a cognac-colored leather couch and matching armchairs beckoned invitingly.
I imagined important deals being struck in that cozy nook, casual conversations that would shape the fate of companies and careers.
My gaze swept to the left, where a massive conference table dominated the space. Twelve high-backed chairs surrounded it, each one probably worth more than my entire wardrobe. I could almost hear the echo of heated discussions and billion-dollar decisions that must have taken place there.
But it was Colson's desk that truly captured my attention. Oversized and imposing, it stood as a symbol of his authority. Behind it, three large monitors silently flashed financial news, a constant reminder of the world Colson controlled.
As I stood there, trying not to gape, I couldn't help but feel out of place.
My simple dress and unassuming presence seemed at odds with the understated luxury that surrounded me.
Every detail, from the plush carpet underfoot to the carefully chosen art on the walls, spoke of a world I had only ever glimpsed from afar.
Colson's voice broke through my awe-struck reverie. "Please, have a seat," he said, gesturing to one of the chairs in front of his desk. As I moved to sit down, I couldn't shake the feeling that I was stepping into a lion's den, beautiful and terrifying in equal measure.
I swallowed hard, my throat suddenly dry. "Mr. Ashworth..." I began, but he cut me off with a raised hand.
"Please, grant me the courtesy to start this conversation," he said, his voice smooth yet commanding.
I clasped my hands tightly in my lap, willing them not to shake. "Forgive me," I murmured.
Colson settled into his chair, his fingers trailing down his silk tie in a gesture that seemed almost predatory. "You received the invitation?"
I sucked in a breath, my heart racing. "I did, but I don't understand."
His eyes darkened, pinning me in place. "What don't you understand?"
"Why me?" The words tumbled out before I could stop them.
A smile played on his lips, one I'd rarely seen and found unsettling. "Why not you? Don't you think you're worthy to be my wife?"
His question left me momentarily speechless. When I found my voice, it was barely above a whisper. "I don't think in terms of worthiness. I'm not in your social circle, my parents work for you, and I'm half your age."
He leaned forward, his grin growing wickedly. "Your youth is an asset. You're not jaded by past experiences. You're someone I can mold into my equal."
I stifled a laugh, the bitter taste of reality on my tongue. If I was chosen, I would never be his equal. Colson Ashworth would always hold power over me... over everyone. I squirmed in my seat as he ran two fingers over his sharp jaw, his gaze never leaving mine.
"Why have you asked me here?" I managed to ask, desperate to break the tension.
He ignored my question, his voice taking on an almost nostalgic tone. "I like your directness. You always were direct, even as a young child."
My skin prickled. The creepiness of that statement. This man knew me when I was a baby and now, I was in consideration to be his wife.
Confusion washed over me. "Sir?"
"Do you have a dress for the event?" he asked abruptly.
"I do not. I was planning to shop with my mother this evening."
Without warning, he removed his cell from the inner pocket of his jacket and began typing. "Your dress size?"
I was taken aback, my hand flying to my chest. "Excuse me?"
"Dress size," he repeated, his tone brooking no argument. "I'll be sending my stylist, Evelina Kournova, to your home this evening. She'll bring several dresses. And I'll need your shoe size also."
I frowned, a sense of violation creeping over me. "That's not necessary."
He held up his hand, cutting off my protest. "Please, Miss Shaw, your dress and shoe size," he demanded.
"Two and seven," I blurted, feeling cornered.
As Colson's long, elegant fingers stroked over his phone screen, I fought the urge to flee. This was too much, too fast, too invasive.
"She'll have everything you need. She should be there by 7 p.m."
Mr. Ashworth..." I tried once more, but he cut me off sharply.
"Colson!" he snapped. "When we're in private, you call me by my given name."
I nodded, my voice barely audible. "Thank you."
"You're dismissed."
I rose quickly, hurrying from his office in a daze. As I passed Simone's office, she hissed. "Oh, Joey," and it barely registered.
Avoiding the elevator, I took the stairs down two flights, my mind reeling.
I longed to talk to someone, but Logan was always swamped with work, and my mother never answered her phone during her shift.
My poverty status at Windmere had left me friendless, and by the time I reached Yale, I was too set in my solitary ways to change.
This whole situation had me on edge. I wanted to run away, pack my things and use the few dollars I saved to start another life somewhere. But actions have consequences, and my parents and brother would be the recipients of Colson’s rage. I couldn’t risk it.