Craving Ava

2.1 - Finders Keepers

Easton

I walked into the opulent entrance of Maxwell Industries, the company I founded and owned, at 8:30 am on the dot, two hours after I usually arrive.

I was rarely ever late. The first one in, and the last one out, every day. But not today, as I had not slept enough. Or anything at all. Eventually I gave up, and came in time for everyone else to have arrived.

My building was one of the tallest in the city, containing seventy-eight floors. Seventy-three of them I rented to various companies, and the top five floors were mine.

I built my business and fortune from the ground up, with nothing but hard work and my last name attached. My father, Garrett Maxwell, was an established billionaire who never gave a cent towards any of my accomplishments.

By working extremely hard, I got into the Business Program at New York University, maintaining a 4.8 GPA throughout. Some of the friends I had made in my college years had come from money and invested into my company – and me – when we graduated, remaining my business partners in some of my endeavors.

Luckily, we managed to grow rapidly, earning me a bunch of honors and awards I didn't need, but were a validation of my success nonetheless.

Regardless, I've never had anything handed to me, as my father protected his fortune like he was about to lose it at any second. Once me and my sister Ella turned eighteen, he cut us off and kicked us to the curb, ever so cruelly.

To this day, he maintained that he was only doing it for our sake, claiming the merit for every single thing we've achieved, but we knew he cared about nothing other than himself, his money, and his image.

This building represented everything I was and everything I fought for, and I'd be damned if I would ever let myself lose it.

I picked the first elevator available, trying to ignore all the blatant stares from people I've only seen in passing. It wasn't unusual for me to get admired at, and occasionally approached, and it was always for the same reasons. Money, sex, fame – everybody wanted something from me. Something I wasn't always willing to give them, specially not in my place of work.

The elevator stopped on multiple floors before arriving on the seventy-eighth, and by that point, I was alone.

As soon as I stepped into the reception, my receptionists greeted me in unison, as usual.

"Good morning, Mr. Maxwell!"

"Good morning." I said in passing.

I walked the long corridor that lead into my office, passing by Astrid's, who saw me through the glass walls and promptly got up to pace behind me.

"Good morning!" She greeted.

"Hello, Astrid." I opened my office doors and she lingered by them, waiting as I pulled my chair from my desk and sat on it. I crossed my fingers as a sign for her to start.

"So, here's what I've got so far. Mr. Meyers called, asking if you could meet him for lunch tomorrow to discuss the acquisition of Belmont hotels. Your mother called twice and left a message which I've written down and placed on your desk." I glanced down and there it was, a message from the one person I could never ignore, telling me to call her as soon as possible. "And a Mr. Woods asked if he could stop by sometime before lunch? I didn't recognize him from our list of clients, but he was quite insistent."

"Thank you. Tell Patrick I can do lunch tomorrow if we do it over a barbecue. And tell Mr. Woods he can come in as soon as he can, I will cancel whatever I have to do to see him. And I will handle my mother."