Vivian's POV:
After another day of finishing my work at 9 pm; I was drained - physically and emotionally. This has to be illegal.
Earlier, I message Amoli about my late-night shift, and she agreed to pick up Marisa before resuming her servitude at the house-mansion.
Once I look up from my desk, I recognized the emptiness inside the room. Everyone had already left.
I grabbed my mug that says - Best Mommy in the World - the one where Marisa got for me, but I had to pay for it. Yes, I shamelessly purchase a mug for myself but the design was too cute not to buy. I got a baby now, might as well use her.
I filled up the mug with coffee before walking back to my desk. After another half an hour, I decided to call it a night and turn in whatever I had accomplished. I entered Ms.Baker's office and settled down the folders. Inside the isolated room, I halted and turned my heels to see the bright lights outside the company. Silently, I sat down and sipped on the mug as my eyes scanned the surroundings.
"Nice, isn't it?" I heard Becca's voice and immediately stood up.
"I-I'm sorry. I didn't know you were still here." My heart was beating against my chest, "I thought you went home earlier," my voice was low.
Becca walked forward, and I stepped back, knowing my rightful position. She didn't sit down; instead, circulate the leather chair. "If I went home; does that give you the right to do what you did now?"
Quickly, I shook my head, "No, ma'am."
Steadily, a smile appeared on Becca's face as she sat down. "Relax. I'm not angry." She released a deep breath as her eyes scanned the surroundings. "It's good to have ambitions. If you don't aim for a higher position, how else can you climb up?"
I bit my lower lip and looked up from the floor, seeing the lights basking against Becca. "Was there a reason why you came back?" I steered against the topic of me wanting to take over her seat one day.
I mean, it doesn't sound bad because it seems like I can yell at people whenever I want. Plus, surprisingly, I'm good at the business aspects of fashion. I'm not good at creating new fashionable ideas, but I'm outstanding at choosing other's ideas and promoting it.
Becca spun her chair around and turned on her computer. "I needed to finish some reports." She chuckled lowly as her fingers played against the keyboard. "I went home to grab some documents." My eyes moved towards the stack of folders settling on the table.
Watching her work makes me wonder if she always comes back whenever she left. Everyone in the company called Becca, an intelligent woman, but maybe she is simply a hard-working person.
"Do you always do this?" I immediately regret that question.
She stopped typing momentarily before resuming. "Veronika, do you know how I got up here?"
"Hard work and a big dreams?"
Becca's shoulders lifted slightly. "Kind of-" she responded, "But, it's mostly because I'm a genius." Maybe Becca is the one spreading the rumor of being called intelligent.
Her lip curled upward once more. "Growing up; I didn't have much." Her voice seemingly echoed in the quiet workplace. "My parents were uneducated migrants who worked on landscaping for a living. When I was younger, I thought it was embarrassing to have parents who work on other people's yards. I refused to let them pick me up at school, and I told them to pretend not to know me when they work on my friend's yard."
"That's-" I didn't know how to respond, and my heels were killing me. I look over at the couch, wondering if it's appropriate to sit, but this situation seemed too serious to request such an action.
"You can say it. I was an ignorant child; placing my friends in above of my own family."
"But, you're working hard now so your parents won't suffer, right?" I tried to find the brightness in the situation.
She smiled, "Are you always like this?"
"Like what?"
"So naive."
My smile flattened.
Becca crossed her legs. "How long are you going to pretend to be an adult?"
"I-I don't understand what you're saying Ms.Baker."
"You speak as if you're standing for those who are unfortunate in society, but I can tell from reading your educational background, you live quite a fortunate life."
"My educational background does not represent all of me."
"But your actions do." She lazily rests her chin against her palm. "You may be dressed in regular clothing, but I can see you're different from everyone around you; even your friend. You were never taught the properties of fashion, but you knew it as its second nature. Your speech, body language, and method of thinking is different from regular citizens."
"You're over analyzing things Ms.Baker." I forced myself to say those words.
"Do you believe I wouldn't do background research about you? Ms.Blanc...Ms.Everhart." She expelled a breath, "I still do not know what to call you."
You can call me Vivian like everyone else.
I frowned, "Why did you hire me?"
"Don't you know? Recoiling relationships are my specialty."
I'm not so ignorant, not know what she is saying, "Liam does not want me as his wife."
She quirks a brow, "I never said Liam was the one who requested this."
"Then who-" I scoffed slightly, "Liam's parents."
"Wow. Have anyone ever told you how smart you are?"
I fought the urge to roll my eyes. "Why would you tell me all of this?"
"Because I wanted to see the look on your face." First, Matt and now Becca. Everyone around me is a sadist.
"You...don't like me."
"Not in the least," she said, still with a smile.
"Why not?"
"Do you really not understand why I dislike you?"
I gripped my hands together. "I'm not dependent on my parents anymore. I-"
"But, you are dependent on your in-laws."
"I didn't ask for them to do this."
"Similar to how you never asked for everything else to be handed to you on a gold platter. Oh, poor over-privileged little Vivian."
"If you knew all of this, why didn't you push me away?"
She spins back towards her computer, "Why should I? This is an opportunity for me to climb up."
"I don't understand your words."
"Then, let me be honest with you." She stood up, "I don't like you, princess. So, stop behaving like we are getting close. Frankly, I dislike the way you're pretending you're independent when in reality, you're still a spoilt little girl. You're 20 years old, stop acting like you understand the hardship of the regular hard-working people all because you have a few long nights."
"You're wrong about me," my voice was low.
She nudges a brow, "Am I?"
I inhaled a sharp breath, but she refused to allow me to rebuttal.
"What got you through those doors was your educational background. The ones your parents paid. What got you the job was the reality that you are married to an Everhart. The ones who are investing in this company. The ones who recruited me, your boss. Do you truly believe any regular person, even ones who graduated from an elite educational institution, can land a position that paid more than the average man?"
Attempting to hold back my emotions, I turned to the doors; not allowing her to further provoke me.
"That little girl, Claire."
I stopped walking.
"She reminds you of someone, doesn't she? Isn't that the reason why you enjoy bullying her so much?"
I inhaled another sharp breath before stepping through the doors.
"Nice talking to you. Let's do this again another night."
Once I reached my desk, I pack up all my stuff. My heels began clanking on the hard tile ground, and I knew my face was fuming red. When I stepped outside, I realized how much I had underestimated the cold; but I was so upset that it kept me warm.
"Everything okay?"
I look up to see Cason. "H-Hi." I tuck a strand of hair behind my ear and attempting to push my mucus back up without making any sound.
Cason pushed his hands into his pockets. "How are you?"
I smiled, "Could be better."
There's an awkward silence between us.
"You didn't pick up my calls," he said.
I rolled my arms around myself, "Sorry, things been hectic."
"Is that your way of saying - you don't want to see me anymore?"
My eyes widen, "Of course not!" I blurted that out without thinking.
Cason smile, "Need a ride home?"
I returned his smile and nodded, feeling the heated fire inside of me decreased. We marched underneath the night sky, which wasn't that apparent due to the city lights.
My eyes flashed towards the familiar car motioning into the company's parking structure. "You got a car?" Not many people who live in the city have vehicles.
He nodded, "When I moved here, I brought an old car. Nothing fancy," he replied while we entered a parking structure.
"How come you're not parking in the employee's structure."
Cason laughed, "This is the employee's parking structure."
"But-"
"The other one is for the important people in the company. I'm just a barista, a little dog trying to make it big," he pouted.
"Is that why you're trying to court me?"
He smirked, "Am I that obvious?" I nodded. "Then, I admit it. I am! My end goal is to court you and make you my sugar mama."
I laughed at his declaration.
"You laugh now, but I'm not joking."
I wrapped my arms tighter around myself while we walked in the nearly empty building. "I thought ambitious women are a turn off for you men."
"Since when is staying at home and working out to look good is a turn-off?"
"Doesn't it de-masculate you, men? To be together with a woman who has a higher paying job."
"I'll thoroughly accept the de-masculation while I'm lifting weight at 11 am in our penthouse."
I laughed once more as we entered Cason's car. He would continuously tell me jokes while driving me back to the house. When we arrived, the sudden realization that I live with Liam struck me. Cason blew out a whistle, "If an assistant gets pay this well. I wonder how the boss is living."
Cason look back at me. "What are you up to this weekend?"
I knew what that line meant. "Are you asking me out?"
"Maybe," he sounded like he was singing.
"I have to ask Amoli whether or not we are going grocery shopping this weekend first. We kind of have to shop three out of four weekends now due to our other roommates." They eat like a hurricane. However, that response defintely sounded like an excuse. Even in my ears, it seemed wrong.
He groaned, "I thought I had to win the heart of one girl, not a house full of hungry alligators." I laughed at his fake grumpy attitude. "Alright. I'll wait for your message."
I gave him a meekly smile, "Thank you for the ride."
"Anytime, Viv."
I bid my goodbye to Cason, who steered back to the front gate. When I entered the house, it was dead silent. Steadily, I walked towards my bedroom to change. Amoli was crashed in the bed while Marisa was sleeping in the crib. Quietly, I left the room, knowing I'm not in the mood to sleep despite knowing I'll have another long day tomorrow.
I was determined to prove Becca wrong.
Of course, I won't quit the job even though Liam's parents were the one who pulled me in. That will only make her happy. I'll work hard and climb up myself. Gather a bit more experience and jump into another company than crush this one.
God, I'm bitter.
Mindlessly I walked around the place, checking out different rooms. I pushed my hands into the large pockets of the sweaters as my eyes scanned the area. I stopped in front of Liam's playroom, the one beside his bedroom.
I won't deny the fact that I'm curious about how it looks. Lifting my hand, dissipating the heat, I place it against the knob and twist it open. First, darkness spread across my sight until I flicked on the light.
The room was like a wonderland filled with colors. I stepped inside, feeling the warm carpet even beneath my slippers as the deep velvet walls dripped inside my orbs. I ran my fingers across the bookshelves noticing how it was filled with manga books.
I pulled one out.
Now, I understand why it looks so familiar. It was the ones I left behind at the mansion.
Why would he keep them?
I push it back inside before settling myself on the comforter that was pulled over the bed.
There were various unnecessary lamps around the room, a night light that seems to plug in every outlet. I poke the night light beside the bed. It used to be like this inside our bedroom too - a weird desire for every outlet to have a night light.
The maids said it helps Liam see at night when he needs to use the bedroom. Somehow, that excuse wasn't fitting.
I sat there, in a straight posture with my hands above my lap as I stared at the curtained window in front of me. Releasing a deep breath, I glanced over at the door across the bedroom, towards the connecting bathroom.
Settling there, I kick my foot back and forth. My legs halted when I felt something hitting my soles. I stood up and ducked down to see what was underneath. I reached a hand below and pulled out the hard item.
"What's a train pillow doing here?"