24

Chapter 24

"Mr. Young is a surprisingly enjoyable person to be with," I said trying to make a conversation with Richard as if nothing embarrassing happened earlier.

"Oh yeah? I'm sure you had a very stimulating conversation?" I might be a bit tipsy but I can still detect some sarcasm when I hear one.

"What do you mean by that?" I asked, sensing an insinuation I couldn't quite grasp.

"He must have taken a liking to you for some reason."

"And what reason would that be?"

"Well, there's talk going around that he might not have an interest in women." Richard revealed.

"I certainly didn't get that impression from him." I scoffed, dismissing the gossip.

"Because you're too naïve sometimes." Richard retorted sharply.

"How did those rumors even start?" I inquired, genuinely intrigued.

"The thing is, his marriage to his wife is purely business. They can't stand each other," Richard elaborated.

"That's it?"

"And they don't  have children either. Whisper on the street is, their marriage isn't even consummated." Richard added.

"That doesn't necessarily mean anything. A rumor should not be accepted as truth unless there's proof. Reputation sabotage is common in the business world you know." I argued refusing to buy into baseless gossip.

"But still... it must have come from somewhere." Richard insisted.

The scent of Andrea's perfume lingered in the car, as if it was mocking me. Frustrated, I pressed the windows down to hoping to clear my head with some fresh air.

"What's going on between you and Andrea?" I blurted out, unable to contain my curiosity any longer.

"I've told you, she's just a friend," Richard replied calmly.

"Really?" My question came out more bitter than intended.

"Yes, really." Richard reiterated, his tone defensive.

"How did you two meet?" I probed further, curious about the nature of their relationship.

"Well, Andrea was a child star, and I was accompanying my mother during a product shoot they had to do. Our fathers also knew each other, so that's how we became friends," Richard explained.

It wouldn't be surprising if Richard followed in his father's footsteps by marrying a famous model. Their children would undoubtedly be adorable if that were to happen.

As we continued our journey, the cool night air and the dim surroundings began to lull me into a state of drowsiness. I closed my eyes briefly, feeling close on the verge of slipping into dreamland, only to be jolted awake by Richard's hand resting on my knee.

"Richard. Hand?"  I protested, startled by his sudden touch.

You can't doze off while I'm driving, or I might end up getting sleepy too," Richard reasoned, his hand still resting on my knee.

"That is so unfair. Remember when I drove you home when you were drunk?" I retorted.

"And who's the boss here?" Richard countered.

I remained silent, conceding to his point.

"Exactly," he stated triumphantly.

"Fine," I relented, "Then could you please remove your hand?"

"Nope. If it keeps you alert, then I might have to keep it there until we reach home," he declared mischievously.

In retaliation, I placed my hand on his knee in return. However, his sudden reaction almost caused the car to swerve out of its lane.

"Now how does that feel huh?" I challenged, feeling a sense of satisfaction despite the childishness of our exchange.

"Quite nice, actually," he replied, taking it a step further by rubbing his hands in a circular motion. That takes the cake. I quickly withdrew my hand and slapped his away from mine.

"Focus on the road, Richard. You're going to get us killed... or worse, arrested." I cautioned, my tone more serious now, feeling slightly embarrassed by our childish antics.

He followed my advice and focused on driving. I found myself being sobered up thanks to the fresh air but I still have a lot of questions on my mind. Glancing at Richard, I noticed the seriousness etched on his features as he kept his eyes fixed on the road ahead. There was an unspoken tension hanging in the air.

"Richard?" I began, unsure on how to ask him the question.

"Yes?" he responded, his attention momentarily diverted from the road.

"Never mind," I muttered, retreating into myself as I struggled to find the right words.

"That's bullshit. You can't just call my name and then say never mind," he complained.

"I was just thinking about the auction." I lied not wanting to delve into the real reason for my distraction.

"You bid on something?" he asked.

"Yeah. On the painting of the black cat." I confessed, hoping to steer the conversation away from more personal matters

"You have such terrible taste. You're probably the only one who bid on the most kitschy painting in the gallery."

"I thought it was cute, like Misty. And it was for a good cause so why not?"  I defended my choice.

"Is that it? God, I thought you were going to tell me that Mr. Young offered you some indecent proposal or something," Richard joked, attempting to lighten the mood.

"Yeah. That's it." I replied, although it wasn't quite what I had in mind.

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I was busy responding on some correspondences when Janet, my work neighbor, suddenly screamed in glee.

"What is it this time?" I asked, glancing up from my computer screen to see what had caught her attention.

"Have you seen this?" she exclaimed as she thrusts her phone in my direction. On the screen was a photo, taken just yesterday, of Andrea and Richard standing side by side with his hand on her hips.

"Yes." I replied casually not wanting to divulge that I had been present when the picture was taken. "Seems like Andrea is quite popular."

"Are you kidding? She's like the fifth most followed celebrity on Instagram and she's also doing her pre-med at Johns Hopkins. Talk about a multitasking queen!" Janet gushed.

"That's amazing!" I declared, genuinely surprised by Andrea's accomplishments.

"They look good together. Do you think they're dating?" Janet asked, turning to me for my opinion.

"I'm not sure." I replied truthfully, though I couldn't shake the feeling that there was more to their relationship than meets the eye. "But they do seem to complement each other well."

Just then, the telephone rang, saving me from further conversation. I quickly answered the call, only to be bombarded by someone from the Financial Times.

"The Financial would like a statement regarding the possible future of the Preston-Astor group and its subsidiaries," the voice on the other line stated.

"I'm sorry? Could you clarify what this is about?" I asked, feeling a growing sense of uneasiness.

"Haven't you heard the news?"

"About what?" I've got a bad feeling about this.

As the caller relayed the news to me, I felt the blood drain from my face. I immediately put down the phone and scrambled to verify the information online. My worst fears were confirmed as I read the unsettling headlines flashing across the screen.

Without hesitation, I made my way to the conference room where Richard and the board were in the midst of a meeting. Ignoring the curious stares from the other executives, I motioned for Richard to step outside with me.

"Pardon my intrusion but I have an urgent news for you." I whispered to him with a sense of urgency. "I need to speak with you in private."

Richard looked confused but he followed me out of the room nonetheless. Once we were alone, I wasted no time in delivering the devastating news, wrapping him in a comforting hug as he processed the information. Despite the gravity of the situation, I couldn't help empathize with him, knowing that his world was about to be turned upside down.