𝐓𝐨𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐝𝐬 𝐓𝐨𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐨𝐰

24 - Granted Dreams.

“Mister Walterson,” Heine bowed his head lowly, “I’m sorry I bothered you unannounced.”

“Oh no it’s fine, dearest Heinrich. And who’s the tall guy?”

Aiden did everything in his power to not make himself smaller than six foot three when all attention steered to him. Ignoring the forming bead of sweat on his brow and coercing a fixed smile, he shook the older man’s hand.

“Aiden Laurant, at your service, Mister Walterson.”

Walterson scanned his awkward stature from head to toe for a few seconds before eyeing the noticeable glinting badge pinned on Aiden’s tux. His gaze resumed more and paused at his face. “My word, aren’t you CEO Arendelle’s secretary?”

Heine gave the confused man a friendly pat on his shoulder, “Long story. If you’d like to hear the news yourself you may kindly ask CEO Arendelle. I’m sure you dread your current one, if I’m not wrong?”

By the term only known between just the two of them, Walterson wildly nodded his head, showing his agreement.

“Well then,” Heine smirked, “Aiden, this is Mister Walterson, Arendelle Co’s one and only creative director and the brain of the Executive Creation Team.”

Aiden’s eyes widened and his lips parted.

Walterson laughed at the younger man’s reaction, “No need to be that impressed, dearie. And Heine, don’t you give all the spotlight to me. You’re the one who grabs all the shots,” He chuckled.

“Pleasured to meet you, Designer Laurant. Hm, pretty name. You’ll be the heart of the most depended team of Arendelle Co from now on. Welcome to our humble abode.”

“T-thank you.”

“It’s not that I don’t trust CEO slash Chairwoman Arendelle’s judgment,” Walterson said, “But I would like to see a sample of your set of skills.”

“O-oh, uh,” Aiden nervously stammered, surrendering the transparent folder to the waiting higher up, “Here you go.”

Without wasting a moment, the Creative Director flipped open the folder before taking out a significant design. As each second went on slowly, agonizingly for the quivering Aiden, Heine gave a smile of satisfaction when he saw the older man’s mouth hang agape. His arms quickly dropped the crumpled stack so his hands could yank his ruffled brown curls in awe.

“Looks like we’ll be making a permanent appearance on Bazaar's front cover, huh?” Walterson smirked—half jokingly.

“Something like that,” Heine smiled.

“Mister Walterson–” “That’s not simply going to do, Mister Laurant. Please call me Liam,” Walterson shook his head again, obviously delighted, “I am pleased that I get to work with you. Starting today it seems like I won’t be getting any more wrinkles.”

“You delight me, Mister Walterson,” Heine laughed, “Well you can be too honest with Mister Waters’s work now can you?”

“Very funny Schmidt,” Liam grinned, and Aiden completely forgot about the moody director he met earlier in an instant. Clearing his throat, Heine stepped forward. “We must be going now. I’m sure Laurant here would love to see his very own office. This is your choice of art that has been brought to life by the company.”