Chapter 5 Confronting Benson

Caught in her own thoughts, she took a moment to register her surroundings. When she finally glanced around, a jolt of surprise ran through her as she realized they had not truly left the rainforest behind. The impressive array of colossal and exotic plants transformed his dwelling from remarkable to breathtaking. Through the expansive glass dome, the rainforest loomed so close that it merged seamlessly with the interior, creating a harmonious blend.

Under different circumstances, she would have been entranced by this sight, but his dismissive body language made it clear that Jeffrey Benson had no interest in her opinion of his chosen abode. With no attempt to make her comfortable, he guided her into another spacious room and gestured towards a large round table adorned with a cutting-edge computer and multiple screens. Two phones rang nearby but abruptly fell silent, as if answered from elsewhere. "Please, have a seat."

Bethany's attention briefly shifted to the phones, recognizing that he wasn't as solitary as he appeared. She sank into the nearest chair, marveling at her surroundings. Through immense hexagonal panes of glass, the thriving, verdant jungle seemed to press in upon them.

"It's astonishing," she murmured, genuinely taken aback by the extraordinary environment surrounding them. "It feels like we're sitting in a greenhouse amidst the heart of the forest." Her gaze wandered to a patch of fern that rustled. "Do the animals come close? Are they aware of your presence?"

"Predators always sense their prey, Miss Sinclair," replied Jeffrey Benson, his voice a low drawl, his accent nearly imperceptible. He reclined in his seat, raising an expectant eyebrow. "I agreed to give you fifteen minutes. The clock starts now."

Caught off guard by such an unsympathetic demeanor, she stared at him in disbelief. "You were serious? You truly meant it when you said I only had fifteen minutes?"

"I'm a busy person and I always speak sincerely," he stated, clearly indicating that he wouldn't make the situation easy for her. Feeling flustered by his complete indifference towards her desperate situation, she took a moment to compose herself. "Alright then, you know the reason I'm here. Four years ago, your company provided me with the loan to start my business. And now, you want to foreclose on that loan."

"Don't waste time stating the obvious," he advised in a smooth tone, his eyes glancing at the clock as a clear reminder of their time constraints. "You have ten minutes left." Panic flickered within her. He was utterly unresponsive. It seemed like she was wasting her time. Gathering her resolve, she continued, "The business means everything to me. It's of utmost importance." Regret instantly washed over her. Why would he care about her emotional attachment to the business?

His furrowed brows revealed that he pondered the same question, discouraging her further. "I'm interested in facts and figures. Now, you have nine minutes remaining." Her face grew warm, but she pushed herself to continue. "As you're aware, I founded a chain of coffee shops with your investment. But they aren't merely coffee shops." She purposely concealed her trembling hands in her lap, preventing him from noticing. "We don't just sell coffee; we offer an immersive and extraordinary experience."

Curiously, he questioned her, emphasizing his words. She bit her lip, determined not to let him intimidate her.

She reminded herself that this business was her passion, her creation. Equipped with all the necessary answers, she knew she could handle whatever came her way. "Our cafés offer more than a mere caffeine fix. When customers step into our establishments, they are transported to a world beyond their everyday lives. With your initial investment, we successfully launched twenty coffee shops across California. We are ready to expand further, but not without your continued support," she proclaimed with determination.

Interrupting her train of thought, she stood up, feeling a need to pace and unable to maintain eye contact with the captivating face across the table. "Do you mind if I walk around? Sitting still at a table for too long hinders my ability to fully concentrate," she requested.

His sardonic gaze shifted towards her feet, taking a dig at her choice of footwear. "Frankly, I'm surprised you can even stand, let alone walk around. It appears you didn't give much thought to appropriate rainforest attire," he sarcastically remarked.

Maintaining her composure, she refused to let his snide comment unsettle her. "This is a business meeting, Mr. Jeffrey," she defended herself, "so I dressed professionally. I didn't believe you would take me seriously if I showed up in casual pants." Pride prevented her from confessing that she had specifically chosen her shoes and suit for this very meeting.

In that moment, she realized how foolish it was to think that her attire could make a significant impact on someone like him.

It became apparent that she should have saved her money instead. He observed her closely, and in a tone that was both soft and dangerous, he questioned her assumptions. "So, you believed that wearing a pair of alluring heels would persuade me to change my mind about withdrawing the investment," he remarked. "Perhaps you have misunderstood my reputation, Miss Sinclair. I keep my personal affairs separate from my business." His intense gaze locked with hers, rendering her speechless and motionless, as if trapped in the fiery heat of his stare. A peculiar and unfamiliar warmth spread through her core, causing her body to feel fluid-like.

"His women." The thought echoed through her mind, forming a vivid image of Jeffrey Benson, bronzed and naked, reclining on silk sheets, alongside an exhausted and blissfully content companion. The vision shocked and unsettled her, compelling her to avert her gaze towards the lush greenery of the jungle, focusing on its beauty rather than getting lost in the sharp glimmer of his eyes.

"Miss Sinclair?" His sharp interruption jolted her back to reality, and she turned her head, giving him an apprehensive glance. She despised herself for wondering how his long, tanned fingers would feel against her skin. What on earth was happening to her? She prided herself on not being the type of woman who mentally stripped men down the instant she met them. Especially not men like him.