The Prince and The Charming

10. Simple Bad Luck

Filling her heart with a new enthusiasm to achieve her goals, Isabella smiled giving herself one final look in the mirror of her closet as she wore a white floral sleeveless romper, tying her straight hair in a ponytail, applying a light balm over her lips and moisturizer over her skin, to prevent her skin from drying off the London summer.

Just as she closed her door, the apartment next to hers opened up as a young woman wearing a corporate suit walked out, followed by a small kid, around four or five. The kid had blond hair unlike the brunette female, who had a darkly tanned skin, mostly an Asian, as Isabella guessed through her features, big rounded eyes and purple shaded lips.

The lady seemed in a hurry but slowed down as she saw Isabella.

“Are you the new tenant?” she asked with a sweet smile.

Isabella looked between her and the small blond kid, that definitely didn’t seem to be hers, he seemed a native.

Maybe an adoptive?

She nodded her head, extending her hand, “Isabella Rowan!”

She took it in with a smile, “Zoha Ali.”

Isabella smiled sensing that she was a Muslim indeed and she had met many throughout the years, having a wonderful experience with them, over time.

“I am in a hurry at the moment Isabella, why don’t we catch up for a drink sometime?’ she offered to which Isabella simply nodded her head.

On her way down, she rode the elevator with an eighty years old lady and another suited man, who was just bored to death while the old lady kept farting.

Shrugging every ominous thought away, Isabella felt hopeful that the day would hold everything good and better for her.

she finally got her own car, a convertible mustang that she rode to work. Finding the perfect parking space and marking it as her own, underneath the office building right in front of the site. She walked in to her office but checked up on the site, where the labor had begun working under Isabella’s team of engineers and designers. After having her morning briefing for the instructions to be provided, she made her way towards her office, greeting her secretary who just seemed bored and busy in files, she ordered her some emails and entered inside her office.

She smiled as everything was going smooth so far. Settling over her seat, she sipped through her morning coffee, opening up her system and finally opening her email.

Her smile suddenly disappeared and her eyes dropped down into a gloom as she saw the email from the head of state in charge of the project.

She breathed like a bull, inflating her nostrils, her brain reaching a high par of tolerance and her patience meter out of control. She paced right out her office, being informed that the in charge head had actually joined in the office building. Her secretary gawked the way Isabella walked, sensing she was up to something. She followed her but Isabella stopped her just in time.

“No need, I’ll be back in a moment.” She uttered confidently, letting the elevator doors slide to close as she hit floor number up. As the elevator door opened, Isabella walked right into the gateway of hell.

She stormed right into the office, flying open the opaque glass door covered in lines of grey, with wooden rod handles. As she closed the door the name, “Charlie Edwards – C.F.O” flashed carved right out of his office that Isabella apparently seemed to miss.

Charlie sat over his huge white swivel chair, behind the black wooden desk, with two guest chairs resting right in front of his desk that were static yet elegant with their black wing design. Behind him was a huge glass wall that flashed the view right outside the building of the construction site, with the blinders off. Charlie sat typing over his laptop, sitting in his white button up with rolled sleeves and coat missing, casually looked over his laptop screen to see a fuming Isabella’s face as she stood squinting her eyes at him.

He smirked, knowing exactly and why did she come to his office, but he continued looking back into his laptop screen and typing his email as he spoke.

“Ever heard of the word, knocking?” he c****d an eyebrow casually at her.

Seeing his careless behavior towards the project, Isabella felt even more agitated. She wanted to throw the vase placed on the corner coffee table with two single couches, right over Charlie’s head but she held herself back.

“Ever heard of the word, ethics?” she folded her arms across her chest.

Charlie couldn’t help but notice the bump over her cleavage as she folded her arms which Isabella straightened up as she noticed his perverted gaze.

“Why did you order me to stop the project again? what is your problem now? I warned you clearly, I am here to represent Barca constructions, your petty and imbecile moves…”

Isabella continued with her insults, pumping out as much as poison her heart held for Charlie.

“Wait!” he gestured his hand up in the air making her stop, “Save it!”

His calmness towards the entire situation drove her even more angry.

“I am not the one who emailed you.” He simply shrugged, moving his chair sideways, as he subtly continued working on his laptop.

“What? But it stated the head in charge of the project…” Isabella’s eyebrows knitted as she felt confused over his words.

“Yes, it should. And that I am not!” he shrugged again, “His office is on the thirtieth floor, why don’t you go and see him? Without wasting my time any further.”

Instead of being angry at his ruthless behavior, Isabella stood confused. She looked at Charlie for one last time as he didn’t bother acknowledging her presence any further and tuned over her heels.

As she opened the door she heard Charlie chuckle devilishly, “Best of luck!”

His tone hooked over Isabella, it wasn’t apprehensive or motivational. It was taunting. A mockery was clearly intended in his tone which kept Isabella confused throughout the whole way as she reached the thirtieth floor.

It was wider, larger and even more organized than any other floor. It was six cabins located at every cabin with the third cabin being the largest one, extending into the corner, emerging in to walls on each side. A large black, circular reception desk settled in the middle of floor, where two females and male sat, with their heads covered with headsets. People emerged in and out of the small cabins. Everybody wore formal suits, coats and dresses, with woman clicking their heels over the shinning marble tiles as they walked in. the farther corner had a waiting area, with black leather couches placed in U-shaped manner, with a coffee table in the middle.

She walked up to the reception and stooped ahead to saw a blond wearing grey formal pants over a white shirt, with her coat resting over the backrest of her swivel chair. She was busy typing in the computer screen, talking in what seemed like Gibberish to Isabella over the headset she wore. Isabella noticed another similar girl and a guy doing the same, three seemed like some corporate hybrid clones with the same infested gene.

“Excuse me? I am here to see the head in charge of the seaport project.” Isabella mumbled catching the blond’s attention who looked up at her, pausing everything she was doing all at once. She looked at Isabella head to toe, studying her appearance which Isabella understood very well but simply looking around to avoid any eye contact. The receptionist, noticed the employee card around Isabella’s neck and gestured at her,

“Your card, please?” her expressions remained poker.

Isabella immediately passed her down the card. She took it in, scanning in front of the monitor camera. It flashed Isabella’s information, that she buzzed right over her employer’s computer. Just within seconds she received the green signal to send Isabella in.

“You may go to the third cabin on the right, and give your card to Mr. Earl.”

Isabella simply nodded, leaving behind the intimidating receptionist, shrugging off her creeping feeling over her skin. As she passed by, she could feel gazes of people, walking around settling right over her face and clothes, but she ignored them all. It wasn’t happening to her for the first time. She was an architect, the best part about their job was the lack of dress code.

Reaching outside the cabin, Isabella passed down an open glass door in front of which a large silver desk was set, right opposite to which a small one was also present. On the large desk, a young man in his early twenties, chiseled jaw with stubble and sleeked puff hair, sat working over some paper.

Isabella cleared her throat grabbing his attention as he looked up at her and smiled at her beautiful face.

“Yes, how may I help you?” he asked in a constricted way.

“Umm…” she looked around passing him down the card, not knowing what else to say because that was all the creepy receptionist had told her.

“I am here to see The head in charge of the seaport project.” She added once the man grabbed her card and did the same as the receptionist.

Studying through his screen, the man smiled meanwhile Isabella noticed his name on the slate over his desk.

‘Brain Earl’

“You may go ahead.” He smiled, passing back her card.

She gave him a pressed smile, walking into the office. With two knocks she entered right inside the office. The large grey room had a chilling effect, extending in a wide length, with a glass window extended through two walls of the office, making the silver interior, the black leather couches placed in the middle, the wooden coffee table, the black mahogany desk, the large grey swivel chair and the guest chairs shine bright.

Shelves of files and cabinets were placed in the corner on the other side of the parallel glass wall, sleeked in a modern design.

Isabella cleared her throat walking up to the man, sitting with his head bowed down in his phone as a MacBook was set on the table in front of him.

Just as he lift his head up Isabella froze right at her spot, her heart beat dropped down low and her eyes bulged out of her sockets.