The Golden Bond

Chapter 3

The shop doorbell chimed once more and Darson, the shopping centre manager, came in. He approached my work desk and instinctively I stepped back. He stood still for a moment before tossing my new tenancy agreement onto the counter from a distance. He was evidently trying to make it look casual.

I took a deep breath and reluctantly came closer to look through the papers he'd brought. The agreed sum was written there, so I signed them without saying a word and handed them back to him. I stared at him with an icy look and clenched lips. My arms were crossed and wrapped around my waist, my body language clear; I was protecting myself from... No, I preferred to get that thought out of my mind quickly.

Immediately after that, Darson left, accompanied only by the sound of the door chime and his "Have a nice day, Miss Snow." This pleasantry hung in the air unanswered.

I spent the rest of the afternoon working on designs for Adrian's muffin packaging. I needed to occupy my mind with something fresh, challenging, something that would require my full attention. As soon as I began to deal with routine orders, my mind would slip back either to the wandering hands of the shopping centre manager, or to the indescribable charm that lingered behind in my shop after the stranger in the anthracite suit had left.

He was so unusual. And, yes, he was beautiful as well, but it wasn't just his looks. There was something different about him, some quality I couldn't quite define. Although it was almost impossible to see through his mask, at points I had the feeling that I could see deeper into him than he actually wanted to allow. The enigmatic William White was a lone wolf seeking his elusive pack. At least that was my impression.

When I caught myself thinking about him once again, I picked up the white business card from my desk. Why did he really give it to me? Of course, I enquired what he did for a living. However, he could have explained that to me with a simple "I'm a consultant." Instead, he passed a card into my hand, which, while deepening the enigma of his profession, also disclosed his phone number. Interesting.

I picked up the phone and called Adrian. This fixation simply had to stop. "Hi, listen, can I stop by after closing time, call the others, too? Save us some chocolate doughnuts, I'll bring you the first model of the packaging and we'll have an evening coffee. What do you think?"

Adrian replied "yes" and I was forced to finish a prototype of a box for 6 muffins by the evening. I've always been good at working hard though. Don't think, create! It's a skill I've always had, an innate part of me.