Chapter 2 A Millionaire's Debt

2830 Words
Gabriella was still musing about her annoyance from lunchtime. Certainly, that guy had left a sour memory behind. She went about her cooking that evening, making her favorite recipe for risotto. She always threw herself into some kind of distracting work when she was upset or couldn’t stop thinking about something – and her little encounter was not easy to forget. Every humiliation she went through was not easy to forget. There was that time in high school when she tripped and fell flat on her face, that time she fell asleep in a lecture hall in college, accidentally submitting the wrong resume for a job… she shivered at all the haunting memories. But she always had no dating rules and so considered herself lucky she never had to undergo relationship humiliations. She didn’t have an interest in dating and believed it was just a waste of time and energy trying to balance work and a love life. So she had a few close friends, a dozen distant relatives, and no special person in her life. Her thoughts wandered away as she relived the episode that happened that morning and that's when she smelled something sugary – the onions had gotten caramelized instead of sautéed. She quickly whipped it off the stove and turned off the flame, letting out a moan over her precious onions. Drat that jerk, even when he's not around, he causes trouble! She left out the onions and had an unsatisfactory meal, declaring to herself to never let her thoughts wander while cooking again. She watched TV for a bit after dinner, then decided to go to bed. She felt restless that night. She tossed and turned, thinking all over again about being splattered with fast food. No, she wasn't going to let another embarrassment haunt her memories! She forced the incident out of her mind and then finally dozed off. She woke up early despite her restless night. She spoke to herself sternly. No more wearing white! She hastily rephrased that. No white to work, only on casual days out. If it happened once, it might happen again. Better take precautions. She opened her wardrobe, selecting a dark navy blouse and black slacks. A little too dark for July, but until she could reinforce her confidence in bright colors, (a situation she would not be in if it weren’t for that-that ill-mannered jerk) she’d wear all her winter colors. She made her way down to the parking lot and got in her car. She let out a sigh… she was still tired. She drove to a café for a strong black coffee with three sugars, then headed for work. "Are you mourning or something, Gabriella?" Marci asked patronizingly. "No, I like dark colors right now, that’s all." She replied coolly. The only reason Marci was spiteful was that her work was never appreciated, but when she made a mistake, the boss would bear down on her like a hawk. So she would take out her frustration by being petty to Gabriella, who rarely got told off for mistakes. Wanda winked at Marci and the two decided to discuss Gabriella's unusual fashion choice over a glazed breakfast donut. The morning passed in a routine, answering calls all day, being polite and helpful, and making sure sales lists got updated as necessary. Gabriella began to feel like everything was back to normal. That is, until lunch… again. Not wanting to be the object of whispers over her outfit, (not that she cared much) she took her sandwiches to the rooftop and armed herself with a book she had started reading. She ate peacefully for a while until Jones from the finance department came up to find her. "Gabriella! There's a guy in the cafeteria looking for you. Says you know him." Gabriella looked surprised and wondered who it could be. "Must be a mistake. No one I know would come here." "Well, you could at least come down and see." "What does he want?" "Don’t know. Anyway, I just came up to tell you. If I were you, I'd go down soon, there's a riot starting around this guy." He turned and left, disinterested now that he delivered the message. Gabriella was annoyed at having her break interrupted for the second time in two days, but she went down after a moment. There was no riot, but half the workers were chattering nonstop, huddled in groups around the visitor who had his back to the stairway entrance. She parted the crowd and went up to him. "You wanted to see me?" she asked. He turned slowly, his face with dark glasses coming into view. Gabriella's eyes widened. It was him! Here, in her workplace, the same jerk from yesterday! "Hello. Can we talk in private somewhere?" he asked in a low, clear voice. Gabriella looked around at the inquisitive faces and spoke with an effort. "Sure. Follow me." She walked quickly out of the cafeteria, down the hall, and up the staircase again, intending to go to the roof, then decided against it since everybody would get funny ideas. She turned to the elevator as he called out; "Hold up!". It was rare that a man would be slow in his stride. She wondered if he was sluggish. "I haven’t got all day and this is the second time I lost part of my break because of you." She said curtly. "Oh sure, blame it on the other person, so typical." He drew out with a sly grin. She turned, frowning at him. That was similar to what she said yesterday, and he was throwing it back at her. "Okay, I'll make it short." He said as she pressed the button for the ground floor lobby. "I ruined your dress, and you ruined my lunch. I think it’s only fair that we pay each other back. I'll get you a new dress; you take me to dinner since I already ate lunch." "You can't be serious." She said in disbelief. "I’m as serious as possible." He drawled, lazily looking at his watch. "You better make up your mind soon if you don’t want to be late. Also, I won't stop coming here till you agree." That would be awful, then she wouldn’t even have peace at work! "Wha— that's considered stalking!" She protested. "No, it isn't, I'm not shadowing you with underhand purposes, I'm openly asking you to compromise with me." He replied calmly. Gabriella pondered that for a moment. Ugh, he's got a point, she thought to herself. She gave in with a sigh of reluctance. "Fine! Why have you got it in for me anyway?" "I have my reasons," he said evasively. The elevator came to a stop. "After you." He bowed slightly as the door opened. "Oh sure, now you learn some manners," Gabriella muttered. He smiled. "Actually, that's exactly what I did. I got a textbook on manners toward women and spent last night reading it." Gabriella blinked in surprise. "Do you always take things literally?" "Only when angry young women rage at me for not having manners." They walked to the exit. "How did you manage to come here? And how did you find out I worked here? Did you – you did stalk me!" she gasped in horror. "No, I didn't. You stormed off into this building yesterday so I just followed as far as the lobby." He replied, completely unperturbed by her accusation. "So the plan is confirmed, we’re having dinner. I'll meet you here at seven if you like." If she liked? She only agreed to this to make sure there were no more repeat visits. "I get off at five," she said. "Then I'll pick you up around five and we can go replace that dress. See you later." He said without giving her a chance to reply. He didn’t even tell her his name! Not that she cared anyway. She hoped his unfortunate acquaintanceship wouldn’t last. She went back up, feeling worn out. He sure was a tiring presence. "What?" Gabriella asked as she sat down at her desk. Marci and Wanda were gawking at her. "You know Whiteley Junior? OMG, I'd kill to get close to him!" "Who?" Gabriella looked blank. "Brandon Whiteley! The sexiest millionaire on this side of New York!" Wanda said. "He's young and eligible too…" "You don’t even know his name?" Marci scoffed. "How like you Gabriella, you're so out of the loop! You should get out more often. Then maybe you’ll know the most wanted bachelor in New York when you see him!" They tittered unmercifully at her. Gabriella was tired of their tittering so she turned to her work, ignoring them. She didn’t care who that guy was, she just wanted to see the last of him. She couldn’t wait for the day to finish. Gabriella stepped out into the sunshine later, still feeling conspicuous in winter clothing as she walked toward the slouching figure leaning against a metallic white coupe. She had carefully avoided the inquisitive looks she had received during the latter part of the afternoon. That phone-absorbed jerk, as she called him, caused quite a stir but she wasn’t going to make a big deal about it, going about her business as though nothing happened. The dark-glassed figure raised his gaze from the phone to her face as she approached. "Hey, again." "Don’t ‘hey’ me. I’m only here so you don’t create a bigger scene than you already did." He blinked, lowering his glasses to look at her better. "Did you wake up on the wrong side of the bed or something? Or are you naturally crabby?" he asked. She rolled her eyes. "Let’s just go." She slid into the car without waiting for him to help as he appeared to do. He smiled slyly as he went round to the other side. "So where do you buy your dresses from? Roxy’s? Five Gs? Elle Est?" Brandon asked in the car. "Are you kidding? Those places are for people who make a hundred thousand a year! Not for people on my kind of wages who wear everyday work clothes. Besides, I always go to Minimax," Gabriella answered. Brandon looked incredulous. "You mean a bargain bin? That place can’t possibly–" "It’s my dress, I shop there! Ugh, do you always argue over other people’s opinions?" "Just yours. I know, we'll go to Lady Reds! They have the most stunning dresses out this season." "No! I can’t afford to go there!" "Don’t worry, I’m the one paying for your dress." "I doubt you’ll get anything for less than a hundred dollars there." He looked skeptical at her deduction. "Who said I was going to spend that little? That’s chicken feed. I don’t have change like that," he said simply. Gabriella's eyes widened with incredulity. "No way! I’m not–" "Yes you are because I'm driving," he said with a triumphant smile, cutting her off. She huffed and sat tight-lipped for the next few minutes. "You know I guess I never told you my name," he spoke, breaking the silence. She didn’t answer, she had already heard it from her coworkers anyway. "It’s Brandon, by the way. Brandon Whiteley." "It’s not like we’re going to see each other again, so we don’t have to get acquainted," she said stiffly. "Well, I already know your name." She turned to look at him in surprise. "How could you? I never even told you." "How do you think I asked about you today at your workplace?" That was true, that meant he already knew her name. "How did you find out? If you’ve been stalking me–" "I haven’t, I promise. I just asked around quite casually." He removed his seatbelt. Gabriella wanted him to explain just exactly how he found out her name but he spoke first. "The car has been parked for a few minutes now. Aren’t you going to get out?" She hadn't even realized they had arrived and had been sitting parked for a minute. She closed her eyes in embarrassment and hurriedly tried to undo the seatbelt. But the catch got hooked to her blouse button and she tried to yank it in despair. His eyes watched unconcerned, wondering if she had too much pride to ask for help. "Here, let me." He said finally, unable to continue watching her pathetic efforts. He stretched over his seat and attempted to unhook the catch from her button. Suddenly aware that his face was three inches from her own, his long white fingers touching her skin near her throat where her button was caught, she drew her breath sharply, and protested, pulling his hands away desperately. They banged heads in the process, and her attention turned to her forehead. Brandon winced aloud, rubbing his forehead at the same time. The catch got free at last. "Ow!" they said in unison. "Ugh, are you always this clumsy?" she asked, rubbing her bruised forehead with a wince. "You bumped heads with me, you know! If you hadn’t struggled when I tried to help…" he clicked his tongue and got out of the car. Remembering his proximity from earlier, she shook her head and blinked rapidly, then stumbled out of the car. "Wait, where are you going?" he called after her as he saw her walk away from the store. "Far, far away… from you! You’re like a walking accident zone!" "Oh, you're not… not without your purse." She halted at his voice and turned. He was dangling it by the strap on his index finger in mid-air with a smirk on his face. Suddenly, he swung it in a full circle and caught it deftly in his hand before entering the store. Gabriella groaned inwardly and ran after him, irritated that he got one up on her. Brandon smiled to himself. He managed to get her into the store at any rate. "Alright, the work-wear dresses are over there." He made as though to go that way but she stopped him by tugging his sleeve. "Forget it; I'm not shopping here, especially with you. Call off the deal and let’s go back to our lives. And give me my purse," she said, trying to pry it out of his grasp. She quickly let go when an attendant walked up and greeted them. "Welcome to Lady Red’s. How may I help?" "Work-wear dresses. My girlfriend would like something in white." Brandon said smoothly. Gabriella was speechless. Did he just say… no, she must have misheard it. The attendant smiled wider. "Right this way, Miss." She led Gabriella down the aisle. Gabriella turned to Brandon and mouthed something that sounded like, "This isn’t over." Brandon merely smiled and winked, making her even more irritated. "Our Crystal White collection just came in last week, Miss. Or perhaps you prefer more of an off-white?" The attendant asked. "Any white is fine," Gabriella replied as she idly looked through some dresses, trying to find something similar to what she had. The attendant pulled one out and raised it to her. "Would you like something like this, Miss?" It was okay, Gabriella thought. But she looked closer and spotted that the middle was completely cut open, held by a few buttons only. too skimpy. Definitely not. She would keep searching. She hunted through the entire rack, until she found a soft, turtleneck, full-sleeve dress, with a slight lace pattern around the edges. She looked approvingly at it. Until she saw the price. "Three ninety-nine!" she gasped to herself. She quickly put it back. An arm from behind her pulled it off the rack again. "We’ll take this," Brandon said. He had been watching Gabriella from a distance and saw she was interested in that dress. When he saw her put it back and guessed the price tag gave her a jolt, he quickly got up to buy it. She turned and spoke in a low voice so only he would hear. "Are you out of your mind? That’s way too expensive!" the attendant took it from him. "Yes sir, would you like a pair of shoes to go with that?" the attendant asked. Glancing at Gabriella’s pleading face, he decided reluctantly against it. "Brando!" a cooing voice suddenly rang through the store. A woman walked toward them. Gabriella mentally sized her up and thought she looked ridiculous. She wore a tight red metallic skirt, barely reaching her knees, a purple top, studded stilettos, and sunglasses tilted back on her head. Her carefully set auburn brown waves caught a breeze as she rushed toward Brandon, a silver-decaled bag swinging from her arm. Bright red jewels glittered on her ears. She looked like a… Well, Gabriella didn’t know what the heck she looked like, but it was clear she didn’t know the concept of less is more. One thing Gabriella could see though – Brandon Whiteley definitely wasn't happy to see her.
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