There She Is

Chapter Two: There She Is

Alexander's POV

The bittersweet taste of my unsweetened hibiscus tea still stung my tongue from the sips I had taken. The words on the papers I held floated up, clouding my vision as I got lost in my thoughts thinking of her. The first time we met, her unruly and wavy ebony hair and vicious emerald green eyes emphasized upon by her dark and smoky eyeliner greeted me.

She had looked up from her computer and peeked at me beneath those long and painfully seductive lashes of hers.

"Mr. Norman?" She had asked, her voice unwavering and somewhat sultry.

I had blinked at her, trying to regain my composure. "Yes, I came to receive the documents in hand."

"I know that," she almost scoffed. "Why else?"

It was a great struggle to keep my face tight and vacant of annoyance and interest perhaps. I clicked my tongue, "Well?"

"I would need to verify your identity. Your thumb please?" She requested, sliding over a digital fingerprint recognition device. She turned to her computers, clicking away on her house before placing her divided attention on me once more.

I had placed my thumb, ever calmly and placid and waited for the green light to confirm it was I, Alexander Norman. I could not believe someone would not recognize me or show indifference to my presence. She did not stammer like the first receptionist I went through, she was not flirty like the second. She was neutral, unaffected. It was the first time I had ever gotten such a reaction from a woman.

When she reached to remove the fingerprint device from the table, I held onto her fingers slightly. Then she finally looked up, her eyes met mine, I could feel the connection and pleasurable tension so I offered a lopsided smile. She had the guts to give me a look of revulsion.

It was the first time I had gotten such an unpleasant reaction from woman. Who did she think she was? I smirked and withdrew my hands, keeping them in my pockets and leaning back slightly. I bit my lip— it always did the trick. She rolled her eyes and unlocked a drawer then pulled out an encased file. "I believe we are done here," she said as she handed it to me. There was no mistaking the disgust in her voice.

"Are you dismissing me?" I asked, with a raised eyebrow, cocking my head to the left.

She ignored me and went about her business, typing violently— the keys of the keyboard making a click noise like an angry woman walking in heels— on the laptop in her front and speaking into the intercom on her right every now and then.

"Excuse me miss," I began, tapping the table. She pretended not to hear me so I persisted by tapping her hand.

She gave me a withered look. "Is there anything else you need? A meeting with the director? I am afraid Mr. Redrodialle has been confined within the walls of a hospital," she paused. "I believe you already know this."

"Right," I muttered feeling a bit shaken. "I'd like a meeting with you?"

"On the grounds of?" She was refusing to look in my direction.

"I'd like to get to know you," I told her, offering her another of my best smiles.

"Why?" Her eyes did not leave the computer.

Her one word replies were getting under my skin. Every female would have jumped at the opportunity to get to know me. Even if it wasn't for the looks, the money and bragging rights of having direct contact to a billionaire heir would have definitely been appealing. It was provoking to be treated this way, nonetheless, I persisted. "I think you're beautiful."

"I don't care what you think." Her green eyes turned darker, more feisty than it was. "I know I am beautiful." She gave me a tight smile and stood up, carrying a document with her.

I grabbed her hand to stop her, she whirled back immediately, her hair whip lashing me in the face. "I'm not a willing candidate," she told me staring pointedly and accusingly. "My apologies for hitting you with my hair."

"Candidate for what?" I asked, amused.

"A candidate willing to fulfill your sexual fantasies," she said without blinking an eye.

"Who said I wanted to bed you," I whispered, getting closer.

She pulled her hand from mine violently and gave me a glare. The rest of the office— basically three people— were staring with their mouths wide open. I sent a scowl their way and they resumed work.

"What other way do you know how to know a woman?" She scoffed, raising her right eyebrow in scorn.

"Why are you playing hard to get?" I questioned, taking another step closer.

"I don't play those childish games. I am just not interested in you."

"Call me," I said pulling out a card from my pockets. She accepted it and tucked it away in her suit jacket then sashayed away, her hips swinging left to right.

I walked away and towards my secretary— Divine, who was seated afar off. "Make sure everyone here is silent."

"Yes sir," he said standing up. "Although, I must admonish you for making a fool out of yourself."

"Divine please," I rolled my eyes.

"Eventually, she'd come around."

"I don't think so," he said. "Just promise if she doesn't call, you won't chase her. You'd forget."

"Promise," I smirked.

That was the last time we ever saw or spoke. She never called and I never contacted her or visited Dialle motors. All meetings with her boss was done here at Norman's technology.

Although, I didn't forget her. My ego was hurt more than it had ever been. No woman had shown apathy towards me, neither hadn't they known who I was at first glance.

After that incident, I stopped smiling in front of women or the general public. I didn't frown neither did I keep a permanent scowl on my face like my mother (only when she was in public though). I remained bored as she had been. I even stopped having "candidates" like she had put it. I couldn't get her off my mind.

Seeing her today came as a great shock. I almost let the paper in my hand fall to the ground. I turned round and dropped them in the hands of my secretary then rushed forward to confirm if it was really her I was seeing.

She took a step back at that instance, and had the misfortune of crashing into me. I held onto her tightly lest she falls. She turned around almost immediately, my hands still holding on one of her arms.

She opened her mouth to speak but no words came in. I could feel her eyes raking over my body, I could feel them savouring me. She seemed overly attracted which was surprising. But once again, there was not a single hint of recognition as to who I was or of our previous encounter two years ago.

"Are you okay?" I asked.

She gulped. "Yes."

Her voice was as sensual as ever. I let go of her arms and she crumbled to the ground, openly ogling me. I fought the urge to smirk and held out a hand to help her. She was extremely lightweight— a shock to my arms. I could place a bet that some of the dump bells I had carried in my lifetime weighed more than she did.

"Thanks," she muttered. She swallowed and dipped her head a little as I walked in.

She came in behind me a minute later still looking mystified. I noticed here that she wore no eyeshadow, mascara or eyeliner. Her face was bare, her dressing casual— quite juvenile. Still she looked as attractive as I remembered. Perhaps more desirable. The white shirt she wore hugged the mass she carried on her chest and gave emphasis to her snatched waist. Her denim jeans did nothing to hide the perfection of her hip bone structure. Her long and luscious jet hair was in a bun at the top of her head.

"Good morning, Mr. Norman," the crowd in the room chorused. My gaze was still fixed on her and the look of mortification and perplex on her face was satisfying and also bothering. She still hadn't known it was me.

Who ever forgets the face of Alexander Norman?

My jaw ticked momentarily in annoyance but then...

This was a test for cleaners. What on earth was she doing here? Had she lost her job? Did she resign? Several questions raced my mind at the same time.

Maybe this was my chance. I would finally get the chance to know her and there was no escaping. For her to be here, just to work as a cleaner. It meant she was desperate. There was no turning back for her. There was no other option.

I almost let out a smile of victory.