The Living Statue

2.

After scaredy-cat entered the office of his employer, I positioned myself in front of the wooden door, eager on listening to every word they exchange. The anxiety in the pit of my stomach was still there, smoldering quietly, simmering slowly on low heat. I guess you could say it was the adrenaline that strikes in front of the unknown. I was always a sucker for adrenaline; uncertaintly made me feel alive.

That's why I haven't done my research on Mr Torres. I knew enough to realize that he is ridiculously rich and highly regarded. However, when it comes to his appearance, I didn't know much.

Is he old or young? Is he fat or thin? Does he have a funny voice? Is he short or tall, ugly or good looking?

All these questions kept whirring through my mind like a vortex as I stood there, my cheek glued to the wooden surface. At first their conversation seemed like a muffled cacophonia completely incomprehensible, but shortly after their words were becoming louder and more distinct. Scaredy-cat's voice was still quiet and barely audible, but the other one, Mr Torres' I presume, was anything but quite. It was clear and determine and deep - it certainly didn't belong to someone old and flabby.

"I don't have a cousin," deep voice said, "you should've already known that."

Mr Torres' words were followed by series of slurred, muffled stuttering.

"I have no time for nonsenses. Get rid of her."

Get rid of her? Seriously?! Who does he think he is?! Conceited, arrogant, pretentious son of a bach -

The door thrust open, reveiling an even more flushed Mr Miller, his ghost-pale face marked with two red, conspicuous circles. I stumbled backwards, my heart rumbling against my chest like drums.

Before I could throw a single glance at the office, scaredy-cat shut the wooden door behind him, his heavy breathing matching my own.

"M-miss, I am very s-sorry, but Mr Torres is very b-busy right now," Mr Miller started in his usual slurred manner.

"Sir, tell him it is very, and I mean very important that I see him right away. Did you mention that I am his cousin? His dear cousin. Yes, his favourite. I'm sure he wouldn't have reacted that way if he knew who I am. Mr Miller go back and tell him that his favourite cousin is here. I am sure he will be delighted -"

"Miss -"

"Yes, go back and tell him I have to inform him about very important matter. Family matter. I'm sure Mr Torres would be interested in what I have to say -"

"Err...Miss, I already told him." For a second, Mr Miller seemed as if he were pondering whether he should say what he wanted to say or not. At last, he unbind his tongue, "He said he doesn't have a cousin, Miss."

What now? What the hell should I say now?

"I see. Well, can you try again. Please," I joined my palms as if I were in a church and not some cold, repulsive Empire. "Pretty please?"

He was apologetically staring at me for a second. Finally, he said "Very well then. I shall give him a call. Mr Torres doesn't like being disturbed very often," he explained quietly and picked up the headphone.

Wow, his Majesty doesn't like being disturbed. Talk about cox-combry.

"Sir, Miss Griffin says it is very important that she sees you right away. Yes. Family matter."

I nodded my head vigorously at his words.

"But Sir..." his words trailed into nothingness. For a few moments he was carefully listening to what his employer was saying, wearing a worried expression on his face.