A/N: As usual, I would recommend putting the video on loop.
Rows of glass beads sparkled under the bright lights, and fabric flowers bloomed to her right. Footsteps echoed down the nearby aisle before a form rounded the corner.
(F/n) didn't know what she had been expecting when she had entered the store. Her mind had been too sidetracked to read the building's sign. When she inspected her surroundings, though, the biography about Claude Monet and the interior design magazine with all of the paintings made sense. He worked in an art store or with one at least. Taking into consideration the cost of those magazine paintings, however, she wondered how high up he was in the business. Not to mention he had said that he had a meeting at the place, not a shift to cover.
A light, melodic chuckle hit her ears. "Have you ever been in an art store before?" She snapped out of her trance and glanced up to him. Some heat invaded her cheeks, and a small pout hit her lips.
Crossing her arms, she averted her eyes to the many aisles. "I just didn't know what part of the store you're working in." She looked back to him, and there was clear amusement in his eyes. "Are you a manager of this store?"
Edmund started to walk towards the cash registers, and he greeted the two cashiers kindly. They both exchanged a line of, "Good morning, Mr. Fex," as he walked by. Each of them returned to the customers they were currently helping. He exchanged a friendly smile to both of the customers but nothing more than that, trusting that his cashiers had asked them all of the proper customer service questions already.
"So, you are a manager?" She kept up right behind him, and she heard another chuckle from him. "Am I wrong?" Her tone held a little more frustration to it. "You can tell me if I am."
Reaching some stairs, he started to ascend them before he stopped midway. "You glossed over the sign?" he asked even though he had a knowing look within his eyes.
Hesitantly, she nodded. "But, I was ..."
Holding up his hands, he shook his head. "You don't have to explain yourself. I know that this day has been h*ll for you." He gave her an apologetic smile. "I really shouldn't be teasing you like this."
She sighed and she glanced down to her feet. "How about you tell me about your position once we get up these stairs?" She cracked a smile, trying to lighten the atmosphere once more. "My feet are killing me."
Agreeing to the proposal, he faced away from her and opened the door at the top. He held it open for her, and she headed into the small room. A light switch flicked on and revealed a carpeted room with a large table and several chairs in the middle of it. No doubt it was a space for meetings. Off to the right side, there was even a screen with a table and computer next to it. Up above was a projector. All around the room except for the back wall and part of the right wall were windows.
Closing the door, Edmund headed over to one of the front corners. He glanced out over the store as she walked up beside him. Her lips shifted in a manner that would indicate that she was about to whistle, but no sound left her. "This has a nice view."
"Yes, it does. And, the workers can look up here too. I didn't want it to seem like I was hiding anything from them, but the room had to have some barrier so that meetings could carry on without interruptions from the background sound of the store."
"If you're not the manager ..."
"The sign." She met his orbs. A proud gleam danced in them, and a small smile touched his lips. "We're in an art store. What do think it says?"
Furrowing her brow, she tried to think of all of the art stores in the city. Obviously, they were in one of the bigger ones, but there were two art store chains that had large buildings. If she guessed the wrong one, she might as well slap him. Her eyes searched for anything in the store that might clue her into the right one.
Staring to the front doors, she noted the words across it. She managed to make it out after squinting, but a laugh told her that Edmund was well aware of what she was doing. "Well?" His voice caused to peer up at him, and she did somewhat desire to slap that smirk off of him.
"Ires's." Her eyes narrowed at him. "You're hinting that you're the owner." It certainly would explain how he would be able to afford that painting. "But, that's not what your employees addressed you as." She crossed her arms again. "I don't understand."
"That's my father's name." He fully faced her and walked over to the computer. Soon enough, the projector turned on, and light met the screen. "I changed my last name to my mother's after their deaths." There was a click of the mouse, and the computer home screen popped up on the fabric screen. "My father already has his name on the store." His eyes glanced to hers momentarily, and there was softness to them. "I figured I would keep my mother's name alive too." A strangeness crossed over his orbs next. "Or, do you prefer my father's name?"
Not comprehending why her opinion would matter on that, she shook her. "I like both, but I like what you did for your mother more." She smiled gently. "That was sweet of you." (F/n) wanted to know more about how they had died, but she didn't wish to pry. Not to mention that she couldn't be a good support at the moment. Her mind just was calming down from her previous shows of grief.
"Later." Confused, she titled her head by a fraction and furrowed her brows. "You want to know about their deaths." A slight laugh left him, but there was pain in it. "I'll tell you another time."
"Sorry." She dipped her head in apology, ashamed that she had been so obvious. Footsteps greeted her ears, and his black dress shoes soon entered her field of vision. Fingers slipped under her chin and lifted her eyes to his. Warmth tickled her cheeks, and she was tempted to step back; however, her legs refused her that.
"Don't be. You're curious. I can't blame you." He removed his fingers and headed back to the computer. "Though," his eyes shifted to her momentarily, "I'm surprised that you're not more shocked."
At that, she couldn't help but chuckle. A teasing look crossed her eyes. "It's too late for that." She shrugged with her arms crossed. "I've met you too much." (F/n) glanced over her right shoulder briefly towards the store's floor. "You owning the chain of Ires's fits along with what I know about you." Her right hand extended out a little, and she held up two fingers. "Your expensive taste and flexible schedule."
Laughing, he leaned on the table some. "If that's all you know about me, I've done your company an injustice." She shook her head and smiled to him. "And, those two things could fit many jobs."
"Well yes, but I ..." (F/n) shrugged her shoulders again. "I don't know. Maybe, I was thinking about the answer too much that it dulled the effect of the reveal." She pursed her lips as if trying to come up with another reason.
"It's fine." He stood back up straight and faced the computer again. "Your mind has a lot on it." His eyes averted to hers. "Go walk around and relax. I'll meet you when I'm done."
"Trying to get rid of me?" She raised a brow and pursed her lips all the more.
Not staring to her now, he smirked and continued to set up for his meeting. "Well unless you want to sit in on a business meeting and be introduced to several people."
Her eyebrow twitched. He already knew her answer, but she released a complying sigh. "Later, then." He nodded his head, and she left the office. As soon as the door closed behind her, his eyes shot towards the door before he smirked to himself. She was able to reason with so well. It truly was a lovely quality about her. There was also the fact that she was becoming more reliant on him, and that would increase tenfold now that she knew the truth about Reginald and Gina. It wouldn't be long before she agreed to be his.
Facing his work, he finished the setup before he heard the door open again. A professional, friendly smile greeted his lips as his employees walked through and into the space. Once the door closed, the meeting began, though; it was hard to keep his mind off of his perfect darling below, but he made sure that none of his workers noticed. No, he would keep those thoughts private.
After she stepped down the stairs, (f/n) explored the store, but she stopped by the beads section, which was near to the fabric flowers. Her eyes trailed over the sparkling waterfalls of glass. She forced herself not to stare over to the flowers. Otherwise, she would be reminded of the funeral, so her body faced the beads at an angle.
Carefully, her hands slid across the rows of beads until they stopped on a row of light green ones. They glittered under the artificial lights, and tears threatened to fall again. Those beads were like his eyes, but now she could only picture them looking at Gina. Her fingers fell onto white beads, and she saw him lying through his pearly whites to her. Only footsteps drew her from her somber thoughts.