Justice For The Billionaire's Daughter

AFTERMATH

OLIVIA

Back in my office I shut the door and put a DON'T DISTURB notice outside. I walk behind the desk and slump into my chair and all the bravado I have been wearing at Amos' office, the pretence, it all goes away and I burst out in loud sobs. I cry my heart out.

I wonder what it is that I have done wrong to warrant the kind of treatment the three women have subjected me to. If I remember well I have given all my time to my job, to the extent that I don't even leave some time for recreation, until Mr Shannon warns me against over indulgence.

I wonder how many more employees feel the same way with the three women who have been fired. I came here to work and attain peace of mind but now the opposite is what is happening.

There's a glass wall separating my secretary's office from mine and I pull the blinds to keep her from seeing me crying, then I sit on the floor and continue crying. I have held onto the pressure for too long and this is the time to let it go. I remember my father telling me to be strong and endure whatever it is that will come my way, but I didn't think people will be this evil, to frame me for theft so that I can leave my position in disgrace.

But I am thankful to Amos for the way he handled the whole affair. The cameras too came in handy and I wonder what would have happened if he hasn't installed them discreetly.

But I now foresee a major problem. The employees who just lost their jobs may incite those still in employment to hate me. They can easily play victim and suddenly I may become the person who made them to lose their jobs, quite a dubious distinction.

My phone rings, but I don't bother to answer. Also, my secretary calls from outside and I can't tell why she can't read the DON'T DISTURB sign and keep off.

“Miss Forrester! Please open up. I have an important message from the CEO." I can hear her saying. I ignore her and keep on crying. She gives up and goes back to her office.

Later I rise from the floor and occupy my seat. Then I begin to think about what I should do. Already, I have a lot of work that I should have done, but I don't care. There's also the interviews that must be starting any time now and I'm a panelist. That one I will not attend, let the company appoint a replacement. I need to get out of here, go back home and tell Mr Shannon what has happened, then I can sit back and listen to him giving me some inspiration.

As I get up to leave I hear the knocks on my door again and I shout to my secretary to leave me alone. But it's another voice that speaks back.

“Olivia, it's Amos. Please open up. We need to talk. " His voice is unmistakable. I quickly wipe my tears and retouch my face with fresh makeup then reorganize my table before walking to the door.

“Listen Olivia. You can't be doing this. Please, I beseech you, take a grip of yourself now. We need you in the interviewing panel." He says as he bursts into my office. I follow him inside.

“What do you think you are doing Olivia?" He asks and I can't hold my tears anymore. I burst into loud sobs.

“Why? Why did they do this to me? Do I deserve this Amos? I have always avoided sideshows and committed myself to my job but see what I get in return? Why?" I ask him between sobs.

“But I have already tackled that? That is all in the past." He says.

“It isn't Amos. I'm still hurting." I whisper.

He moves closer, and I hold my breath, anxious to see his next move. He doesn't hesitate, and he holds me in an embrace and I cry on his shoulder as he pats my back. I have never felt so comfortable and I weep for what looks like an eternity.

“I am sorry, I'll take strict measures to see that no one victimizes another. Now, please, I beg you to obey me. The panel can't work without you. Join them right away." He says as he releases me. We look at each other without a word and he walks towards the door. Then he looks back.

“Don't keep them waiting Olivia."

Maybe that's what I needed. I feel fresh. I quickly spruce up myself and join the other panelists in the boardroom. We have several vacancies to fill, one of them being the secretary to Amos. Paradoxically, the person who advertised the jobs, Beatrice is now gone and we are looking for her replacement.

We go through the résumés of very many candidates, and we make a shortlist, those who will be contacted at a later date. Those who haven't made it to the shortlist we write to them regret letters immediately. I leave to attend to my office but someone calls my name.

The human resource manager follows me to my office and asks me whether he can talk to me for a second. He is a tall man, around thirty years old with a developing bald head. He wears wide rimmed glasses that make his head look like a compound insect.

“We have never met before and I always wanted to see you. Look, I need to update all our employee's profiles and there are some documents I would need from you if you don't mind." He says. This is recipe for disaster and I need to cut him off before he proceeds further.

“Look, Mr .." I try to remember his name but my memory fails me.

“Bind. Maurice Bind." He offers.

“If you want anything about me, the information is privileged and only Mr Marshall can give it to you. Please check it out with his office." I say referring to Amos.

“Thanks Miss Forrester. In that case I'll talk to Mr Marshall right away. He rises from his seat and walks away. I don't care what they'll discuss with Amos and I delve into my in tray.

Time flies and the next time I look at the clock on the wall it's already four o'clock. I can now go home because I have exhausted every task in my in tray but as I rise to leave Amos walks in.

“Well, now you look better. Earlier you were a complete mess." He says as he closes the door behind him.

“Thanks. So much was going through my mind. I'm sorry, and thankful too."

“But that visit from Mr Bind, what did you expect me to tell him, or offer him?" He asks.

“Well, my file is in a confidential cabinet in your office. That's all that you needed to give him." He looks at me, and I can see he's thinking deeply, looking for a swift rejoinder.

“You were about to tell me why your file is too thin, but the circumstances have not been favourable." He says.

“Yes. Something came up just as I was going to tell you a long story." I say.

“Well, here is the opportunity. Tell me everything." He says.

“But office hours are over and besides I was going home." I lie. I am not going home. I want to go through the city now that I am following Mr Shannon's advice. I want to see what the city looks like in the evening.

“I didn't mean that you tell me this story here in the office." My heart skips a beat. Where is he going with this?

“So, what do you mean?" I ask, curious.

“I want to take you out for coffee, tea or something. Then you can tell me everything while we are away from here." He offers. Finally, he has done what I have been wishing discreetly.

“But you should have given me some time to think about it?" I ask.

“Well you have thirty seconds. Think about it. We all burst into laughter.

“Look, we leave in my car. I'll drive you home. Leave your car here." He says.

“Where are we going?" I ask.

“Leave that one to me."

He leaves to his office, probably to wind up and I use that time to groom myself. This is an opportunity I have been waiting for, some time with Amos, and I am happy he is the one that has asked me out.

We take the lift together up to the basement parking and immediately his driver sees him he ignites the car and approaches us.

“Boniface, I'll be driving today. I suggest you take a taxi home. See you in the morning." Amos says as he opens the passenger door for me. I have always admired this Range Rover, which reminds me of my father's car, which I presume is still parked in the garage back at home.

“Thank you sir." The driver says. Immediately I'm seated in the luxury car Amos joins me and revs the strong engine before driving out. The car stereo is playing a very sweet song by Celine Dion and I find myself singing along.

He joins the highway and picks up speed as we head away from the city.

“I though we were going out for coffee?" I ask just to start a conversation.

“Indeed. It's just that it's in a destination outside the city. We have been working in the city all week, why not run away from the hustle and bustle for a while?"

“Good idea." I say and we fall silent once again.

The song on the stereo becomes so emotional that I feel like crying. It reminds me of my relationship with my father and sister, and it's now coming back to me. I am very happy when the stereo moves to the next song before my emotions go on overdrive, and Amos veers off the road into an exclusive members only club. The gatemen salute as the speeds through the gates into the compound.

“I know you like swimming. There's a swimming pool here." He says as he looks for parking in a parking lot dotted with expensive machines, from Cadillacs to the latest Mercedes Benzes.

“Yes I do. But how did you find out. I don't remember telling you this." I ask, surprised.

“You don't need to tell me. I do my research." He says with a lot of confidence.

“What else do you know about me then?" He asks.

“I know that you are wealthy. Not many of my employees drive a Bentley. And the small silver chain on your neck, it's worthy a fortune. One of the reasons I didn't buy the crap by Beatrice that you could steal a mere ring."

“What tells you that I didn't steal the chain and the car? What if my expensive lifestyle, as you want to call it, is not proceeds of theft?" I ask.

“I asked my father. Mr Shannon doesn't associate with thieves. But we are digressing. We are here for the coffee. Shall we?"

He's out of the car before I can say a word and he opens the door for me. The concrete chips on the parking lot crunch under my shoes and I enjoy the feeling. Amos is walking just a step ahead of me and soon we enter a huge lobby. Staff of the establishment lead us to a table and once we are settled Amos summons the waiter.

“Good evening Mr Marshall, I'm glad you are back." The waiter asks. The name Joseph is pinned on his chest.

“Evening Joseph. Thanks. Would you give us the menu?"

“But of course."

Minutes later we are perusing the menu. Amos orders coffee and a croissant and I order a cup of tea. He also orders for some lamb chops, but insists that they be prepared slowly since he likes his meat completely cooked.

“There's a shop here. I'll buy for you the costumes so that you can enjoy the swimming pool." He tells me as we take our beverages.

“I would like to sample the water here. I wonder whether you like swimming too?" I ask.

“I'll take a plunge too. But not before you tell me what I want to hear."

“Which is?"

“A brief history of yourself. There are so many mysteries. You are not what you want us to believe." He says.

“But I have never pretended to be anything. I am just myself, someone working for a better tomorrow."

“Well, tell me about your yesterday."

I begin with our business, the behemoth that is FORRESTER INCORPORATED, the fire in the middle of the night, the deaths of my father and sister and my eventful escape from the killers. He is silent all through. I tell him about my father's friend Mr Shannon and all he does is to nod.

“Well, I bet I have told you everything." I say.

“That is a series of very unfortunate events. You have definitely gone through a lot. I now understand why you were so bitter when Beatrice and company framed you for theft. I can only say I'm so sorry. One person can not handle all that." He says.

“I have been trying. Now you understand too why my file is so thin. In my haste to leave I couldn't take away my academic certificates."

“Trust me I'll never ask again. I have always seen that you were capable of holding big office and that's why I promoted you. Something told me you were made of management stuff." He says.

“Thanks." We have already finished drinking our beverages.

“I promise that I'll make the climate conducive for you to realize your dreams. You came to the right place." He says.

“But you have done so much for me already." I say.

“That's nothing. We are going up and you better prepare yourself, there's bigger and better for all of us ahead." He says.

“Let's go to the shop. We need to buy the swimming gear." He say as he takes my hand.

There are many more people in the restaurant and they salute Amos as we pass by their table.

The shop is packed with everything an athlete would need, from swimming gear to gym wear, sports shoes and other collectibles. We take the swimming costumes and head to the pool and each of us to their respective changing rooms.

But something tells me that I may be making a mistake, letting Amos get this close to me. Another feeling tells me to go for it.