Heiress in Distress

•Chapter 7•

"-You girls are my responsibility, seeing as I'm the exclusive owner of this place" I have to bite my tongue to refrain from talking.
When saying this, she sounds older than she looks.
Late twenties is what any person with keen perception would give her.

"Cynthia told me it's you who proffered the nightly services" She pauses, expecting a conformation. To which, I nod.

She reaches into her purse, rummaging up something, which she hands over to me.
It's a tri-fold brochure titled "VTC Airways"

An odd mixture of both confusion and uneasiness is scattered throughout my mind as I unfold the brochure.

I contemplate asking her if she owns another branch across the continent, owing to a dreadful idea at the back of my head that she might want to send me there.

"They're in need of flight attendants" She informs me.
I wait for her to continue, but she doesn't.

When I lift my head to face her, it's as though I could read the explanation within her gaze, my mind instantly igniting with discernment.

"But I'm not qualified for such a job. I don't even have a high school diploma"
I point out.

"Don't worry about it. The CEO is a close friend of mine" is her dismissive response.

I merely begin to consider the idea, when she proceeds to elaborate further
"You'll only have to work 2-3 times a weak, making as much as 6 months worth working here in just a month" I'm not sure how I managed to stop my eyes from bulging out of their sockets at this.

"You'll get to choose the days you want to work" She adds, in a voice sounding eerily anticipative.

My compulsion at accepting the tempting offer takes a backseat to my incredulity at the whole proposition. Why is she even doing this ?
Is it guilt she's feeling ?

It's not in my nature to do things without thorough consideration, so I ask her to allow me some time to ponder.

"Of course, but please do return to me with your response as soon as possible" She says upon standing.

"Sure" I tell her as she glances at the expensive watch around her wrist.

"I have something to attend to. I'll see you soon, hopefully" She excuses herself.

Halfway strutting towards her car, she turns around;
"Oh and don't forget to check your chair pocket" Walking backwards, she yells this due to our lack of proximity.
She continues walking backwards for a few more steps until I nod to confirm I've heard her, before turning around and moving onwards.

Going into the shop, I stride towards the back room, exclusive for staff members; not very spacious yet adequately accommodative, with a single rectangular conference table surrounded by matching seats, each of which bears a name.
And a chair pocket of course.

I reach into the the pocket of my entitled seat as Juniper indicated and feel my fingers graze a paper material.
Frowning, I find myself fishing out an envelope.

I instantly identify it as a letter.
Once I've unfolded it, my eyes are scanning elaborate handwriting.

It'll be of great misfortune if you don't find it in yourself to forgive my manners last night, for it's not my wont to impose my will on others, especially a woman.
But last night's circumstances had been unforeseen, and your safekeeping posed a priority, which should justify my need to follow you towards your house to ensure your safety.
We haven't been properly introduced, yet I misbehaved a gentleman by both attempting to coerce you into riding with us and violating your will to leave on your own.
Give me the chance to properly apologise for my shortcomings.
A dinner with me should make for a good opportunity, do you not suppose?

Elias.

I'm still hypnotised by the genuineness swirling through the lines, wondering if people still used handwritten letters -or letters at all- to communicate.
I can't help the smile that curves its way onto my mouth, brushing off the protests of my usually strict rationality, as it reminds me that this is a total stranger weaving his way into my life.

•••

Unlocking the door to my place, a squeal of pure delight and a vigorously crawling Élise greets me at the door.
I pick her up easily, noticing she's only in diapers.

"Hey there buddy" I coo, lifting her up so high her eyes go wide.

I'm exhausted to a fault, so I head for the bedroom immediately.

"Bonsoir busy bee" Clara chirps teasingly, shaking a bottle of milk for Élise.

"Hey there" I return the warm greeting with a weary smile, watching as she goes to pick up something from the coffee table.

"Someone slid this under the door" She announces, handing me a plain envelope.
I ask her who but she tells me she doesn't know, as she was showering Élise when it came in.

I turn it over, in search of a return address or any sort of information about the sender, but find none.
Something clicks inside me in recognition; I think I have an idea as to who the sender might be.

Almost sure of his identity, I tear open the envelope.
Clara takes Élise from me and walks into the bedroom, closing the door behind.

Upon unfolding the paper, I notice 3 things:

It's printed, not handwritten.
It doesn't have the name 'Elias' at the bottom of the paper.
It's a riddle.

"All for one and One for all"

We're 3 musketeers;

One: I'm highest in rank,
I'm a hole in the Milky Way.

Two: I'm second in rank,
I'm a regular guest in times of war.

Three: I'm lowest in rank,
I'm a long time companion of most women.

The three of us assembled together represent power, emanating from the 3 decade old unity of the East and the West.

My brain kicks into overdrive, all thoughts of exhaustion flying out the window.
Despite being scarcely acquainted, I'm almost certain that this is not Elias.
What would prompt him to send me a riddle?

But who else with a warped sense of humour would send me this, and what is it supposed to mean?

••••

Go ahead, solve the riddle (=
I wanna know what you guys think

Once again, thanks for taking the time to read this (=

-Asia