I hate flying. Once I got to the gate I'd be leaving from, I found out where I was going and I wasn't very happy, Washington DC wasn't the place I'd wanted to spend the rest of my career in. But I knew not to make a big deal out of it because this business deal could skyrocket Arva, globally. But flying is particularly difficult for me because I'm scared of heights, just the thought of me in a giant metal death trap in the sky gives me chills.
But I came to like my destination more as I landed. Seeing the city made me want to explore it, and the city itself is full of rich history. I've always loved doing research and learning new things, so on the way to DC I did some digging and the history of the city is fantastic. It makes me a little more enthusiastic about spending the rest of my career here.
My mother and I exit the airport at around three pm and she is absolutely overwhelmed with all of the press that show up, we specifically picked the flight we did so we wouldn't have this problem. And paparazzi just make me paranoid especially with my sexuality. But the mob is spewing questions about why my mother and I are in the states, my mother breathes a deep and silent breath and tells the reporters about the reveal of our coming to America in the next few days.
But out of the corner of my eye I see Arva Entertainments written in a bold red sharpie, on a simple large piece of paper. And holding it is one of the most attractive men I've ever seen, but from my extensive research during my painstaking flight I recognize him to be the son of the CEO of our new partners, Jesse Marlon.
With recognizing the young heir, I take my mother's arm, intertwine it with my own and walk her to the black town car my Jesse stands in front of. " Good afternoon, Ms. Lan and Mr. Lan I presume? He asks in a deep and mellow tone.
He didn't know how we looked?
I was kind of judging him for not doing research like I did, but then I remembered not everyone is as prepared and flawless as me, so I let it slide. " Please call us Miriam and Vincent, I'm too young for miss." Although this year would be her fiftieth birthday.
"Jesse Marlon, Ma'am"
Smirking slightly and rolling my eyes, I clasp Jesse's hand, and I'm met with an iron grip. Wondering why he basically crushed my hand, I snatch my hand away. Looking up at him ( he's at least 6'3) I whine and he huffs.
"My father figured you'd be worn out from your long flight, so he requested that I take you to rest at your hotel."
" Sounds great." My mom says with a slight accent.
And with that we scuttle into the town car.