It's Just Business

Lexi's POV

I'm completely soaked! Like literally drenched from head to toe. I seriously considered punching him in the face, but I need this job, and I remember how that turned out the last time I let my emotions get the best of me.

I head toward the staff door to see if I can find something to change into because if I can't, I'm in big trouble-pneumonia is nobody's friend.

"Whoa! Is there a pool party going on that I didn't hear about?" Dan jokes as I walk over to his locker.

"Very funny," I reply, grabbing the towel from his hands and trying to dry off as much as I can.

"Thanks!"

"You're welcome. You know I can't resist a princess in distress."

"We both know I'm no princess," I scoff.

"We can definitely agree on that."

"Jerk!" I hit his shoulder playfully.

"I see you more as a knight if we're being real. A pretty and sexy knight though, that's for sure."

"Period!" I say, and we both burst out laughing.

"How'd you know?"

"I saw when Dickly approached you, and you literally looked like there was smoke coming out of your ears after he left. When I saw you going outside in that pouring rain, I just couldn't help myself."

"Thanks again!"

"That's why I'm here. Here, you can wear this shirt. You're lucky I always keep one on me."

"Lifesaver, literally."

"Superman's got nothing on me."

I burst out laughing. "Only you can turn a bad situation upside down. What would I do without you?"

"I have my moments," he says.

"Aren't you supposed to be attending to your tables? Or wait, don't tell me that throwing out the trash took the whole two hours left in our shift."

"Not at all; like I said, I just couldn't help myself." He smiles at me.

"We better head back before Dickly comes after both of us."

"Yeah, you're right." Dan heads back to his tables, and I return to the kitchen.

Two hours later, I'm finally done for the day. Dan drops me off, and in moments like this, I'm grateful to have him in my life. He's a true friend, and those are rare.

I go to put my key in the lock, careful not to make too much noise because I know Aria should be fast asleep. Just as I insert the key, the door swings open. Panic floods me, and I reach for my pepper spray, instinctively going into attack mode.

I switch on the lights to find Aria sitting on our second-hand couch, which I got from a garage sale, grinning from ear to ear.

"Jesus, Aria! You can't do that! You scared the living crap out of me! I could have seriously hurt you!"

"You think I don't know that? Why do you think I stayed far away from the door? I won't be a victim to any of your so-called defense mechanisms again," she replies.

"Not funny,What are you doing up anyway? It's really late, and you know you need enough rest."

"So do you, you know"

"I will rest when I'm sure you are fine."

"Here, let me help you with that," she says as she helps me out of my coat.

"Thanks."

"Hectic day?"

"You could say that again. Dickly was being a dick again."

"When is he ever not?" she scoffs.

"True."

"Have you had dinner?"

"Yes, Mom," she replies sarcastically. "You made sure of that."

I do this because I love you too much to let anything happen to you, I say, squishing her cheeks.

"Stop!" she exclaims, playfully shoving my hands away.

I head to our little kitchen, which is attached to the living room-my own little slice of paradise-to get some water. Our home is a somewhat modest studio apartment since that's all we can afford, but we make do. It's filled with our belongings, mostly Aria's paintings, along with the little art equipment I could afford to buy for her. The kitchen is quite small, with white walls like the rest of the house. It has a cooker, a fridge, and some cupboards, but they do the trick. The living room is typical, though it lacks a few essentials that would make it feel more like a living space. Nevertheless, we're just grateful we're not homeless, which is a situation we've almost faced a few times.

I gulp down the water, place the glass back on the counter, and turn around as an unsettling silence envelops the room.

"Aria! What's wrong?" I make my way back to where I left her and find her with tears in her eyes.

"Mana(sis), what's wrong? Are you in pain? Do you need to go to the hospital? Are you okay? Talk to me!"

She looks up at me, and my heart races even more as she gazes at me with her large brown eyes and quivering lips.

"Lexi!"

"Yes, talk to me!"

"Don't freak out, because I'm already freaking out, but... I got a call," she said, stressing the last word.

"A call? What call? Is everything fine? Did you not sell the painting you had up for sale? Did something happen when I wasn't around?" I said, rambling.

"Lexi!" she shouted my name. "I got 'THE CALL.'"

Everything suddenly clicked, and I froze. "You got THE CALL?"

"I got THE CALL!"

We just stared at each other for what felt like hours, but I knew it was only a few seconds. Then she broke down completely and jumped into my arms. I couldn't help but let a few stray tears fall as well.

"Oh my God, oh my God! It's happening! It's finally happening!"

It's finally happening! She repeats after me, her face lighting up with hope.

Suddenly, I can't contain my joy-tears of happiness stream down my face. I usually try my best to stay strong in front of my sister, but this moment is too monumental. After what feels like the longest two-year wait, I'm overwhelmed with the realization that my sister is finally going to get better, and she'll LIVE!

I jump into her arms, and she hugs me tightly in return. We both wipe away our tears, but this time they're filled with joy and relief. "Oh, Aria, this is absolutely amazing!" I exclaim, my heart soaring.

She nods enthusiastically, her own tears of joy still glistening on her cheeks.

After a moment of sheer happiness, I take a step back to process it all, feeling hopeful. "So when is the surgery scheduled?"

Her gaze meets mine, and as the warmth in her eyes begins to shift,sadness suddenly takes over her features. When the words come out, they catch me off guard, blending fear with hope.

"A month,"

Brandon's POV

I dropped my phone after finally ending the call with my father. I was already irritated when I saw his name on the caller ID wanting to just smash the phone. I pressed the intercom that connected me to my assistant's office; "Stacy, get in here now."

"Yes, sir," she replied.

"Cancel all my meetings. I have to leave. Also, make sure you call Alfredo and tell him I want those files on my desk by tomorrow morning. If he doesn't deliver, he can forget about me funding whatever he comes up with next."

"Yes, sir, but I did send him an email yesterday asking for them, and I haven't received a reply yet," she responded.

"That's why I said to call him, Stacy, not send an email. Alfredo likes it rough, and it's a good thing I do too," I said as I strode toward the door, with her quickly following behind me.

She's always fidgeting and nervous. It's a good thing she's great at her job; otherwise, I would have gotten rid of her a long time ago. She's the first assistant I've hired who lasted two weeks without quitting and is excellent at what she does.

"Bye, sir," she said as I stepped into the elevator and pressed the button for the garage floor. I nodded in response as the door closed.

I took out my phone and quickly dialed my lawyer's number, already feeling impatient.

"Yes, sir?" she answered on the third ring.

"My father just called me and asked me to check with you about a document he sent regarding his retirement and my taking over. I'm irritated that I hadn't heard from her first."

"Yes, sir, he did send it, and it just arrived here about thirty minutes ago. I was about to call you," she replied.

"Excuses again, Reece. I'm on my way, and you better be ready before I get there."

I didn't wait for her to respond before ending the call.

I reach Reece's office in half the time it normally takes, but I've never considered myself normal-at least not since I turned ten. I park my car and quickly enter the building, turning heads as I walk through. I'm not sure if it's admiration or fear; I suspect it's the latter.

I stride into Reece's office without checking with the receptionist to see if she's busy. When I enter, I find her already seated and waiting.

"Good morning to you too, Mr. Wilson. Please have a seat," she says.

I look her dead in the eye. "Reece, you're becoming sluggish."

"And I apologize, sir. I should have called you immediately after I received it."

"Yes, you should have," I reply as I take a seat directly in front of her.

Reece is an attractive woman with brown eyes that match her hair. She has a slim figure and excels at her job, which I find most appealing. However, I never mix business with pleasure, regardless of how attractive she might be. I like to believe she feels the same way because, unlike others I've met, she has never made a move on me. She is purely my lawyer and is great at what she does-at least, I hope so.

"Have you read it?" I ask, breaking the growing silence.

"No, sir. It's your document, so I thought it only fitting to wait for you to go over it first, don't you think?" she responds.

"Hm," I grunt in acknowledgment.

"Open it," I instructed her.

"Sir, before I do, I just want you to say-"

"Open it," I interrupt, cutting her off.

She grabs the envelope, tears it open, and pulls out the document inside.

"Read it out loud," I commanded.

She meets my gaze and replies, "Yes, sir."

Taking a deep breath, she begins: "I, Mr. Bernard Wilson, owner and CEO of Wilson Holdings..."

"Stop." I cut her off. "You know what I want to hear. I don't need to hear him blab when I don't have to. Go on."

I watch as her eyes scan the document for a while until they finally stop, and she goes still. At that moment, even though I don't usually get scared, I feel my heart rate increase. If I don't inherit the company, all my plans will fall apart, and this will all be for nothing. This company wasn't just power-it was revenge. And only I knew it.".

"Spit it out, Reece. Don't keep me on edge."

Her eyes meet mine, and she smiles. "It's yours, sir."

It was then that I realized my heart rate did indeed increase. "Are you sure?" I ask.

"Yes, sir. But...

"But what?"

"There's a clause"

"A clause? And what does this clause say?"

I should have known my father wouldn't let it go just like that-the sneaky bastard always has something up his sleeve, and I guess that's where I got it from.

"Reece..." I say in a warning tone.

"The clause says you have to be married, sir."

"What?"

"You have to be married before the company is fully yours. Until then, it will still be in your father's name. You can resume the CEO duties since he has retired, but you won't have the company to yourself until you are married."

I grab the document from her hand and scan over it until I see the clause.

"Bloody hell," I say as I feel my anger boil.

Lexi's POV

"Fuck I'm so late!" I mutter to myself as I hurry toward the venue's gate. It was already a struggle convincing Darren that I could make it, especially since I need every job I can get. Balancing two jobs is tough enough, and taking on this weekend gig is a lot. But the extra cash is worth it, and since it's right after my shift at the restaurant, I'd rather not go home to sulk and lose sleep. This is definitely a better option, the more cash I earn the closer we get to being able to afford Aria's surgery.

As I approach the back entrance, I notice this event is much bigger than usual one's I've worked.I'm just grateful that I'm not handling the masses; the thing about being assigned to take care of your own guests is that, aside from the amazing tips, you only have one person to serve. Unfortunately, some of the guests behave as if the place is a hooker's club, thinking they can get away with anything. I know how to put those kinds of guests in their place, having dealt with them every day at the restaurant, so it's not a big deal.

Still, I'm almost thirty minutes late. In my defense, I walked here because getting a cab is too expensive, and besides, it's not that far from the restaurant. I quickly head toward the changing rooms when I bump into someone. "Ouch! Watch where you're going!" I exclaim as I look up to see Darren frowning at me.

"Darren!"

"I'm so sorry, Darren. I couldn't find a cab. I literally had to walk and you know...."

"Lexi," he cuts me off, "you know I personally assigned you to one of the biggest guests here because I know how much you need the tips. I specifically told you to arrive at least an hour early so I could brief you on the guest. And look at the time-you're thirty minutes late!"

"I know, I know. I'm really sorry. It won't happen again. I'm not usually this sluggish. Just let me change quickly, and we'll get to the briefing."

"No need," he replies, "he arrived earlier than expected. When there was no one to serve him, I had to assign Miley to take care of it and do your job. I already made him wait for almost twenty minutes for you."

"Miley? Really? Ugh, come on, Darren!"

"Lexi," he warns in a firm tone.

"Oh, come on!

"I don't care about whatever beef you and Miley have going on don't just bring it to work; we've talked about this

"Whatever as long as she doesn't cross me; I say

"Lexi, he says, a note of finality in his voice,

"you'll have to work the mass then."

"Please, Darren! You know there's nothing to earn in the masses besides perverted old men who want to touch you at any chance, along with their handbag wives."

"Find something else for me, please! I really need this."

He sighs. "Fine, but only because I know how much you need it, and I'm a really good person."

"Yes, but we both know good people don't call themselves good people."

"Don't push it."

"Sorry!" I say, holding back a smirk.

"Get changed quickly and meet me at the door. There's a VIP guest that we were just informed will be arriving, even though he didn't RSVP. Apparently, he decided at the last minute."

"Got it! I'll be quick," I reply as I rush to change.

I quickly get dressed and am about to head out when the door swings open. Miley stands there, I roll my eyes, I attempt to walk past her. She blocks my way and touches my arm.

"You're finally here, Lexi, but it's already late. When you didn't show up on time, Darren had no choice but to tell me to take over. Of course, I asked him to wait a little longer because Lexi isn't the sluggish type, but I guess he couldn't," she says, forcing a doe-eyed smile. "I'm sorry, though; it's to my benefit."

"Get your hands off me, perra (bitch)",I reply with a smile of my own. With that, she lets go of my arm and steps back.

"You're right, I did come late and loose my guest, but I guess everything does always work out in the end. Sure, I lost one VIP guest, but I gained another who I hear is more... what's the word? Oh yes-packed-and who knows, he may even be more generous!" I say, keeping my smile in place.

"Now, if you'll excuse me, I have somewhere important to be. I'm guessing you do as well, if I'm not mistaken," I say while striding past her. "Oh, and just so you won't waste any more time looking it up, 'perra' means 'bitch.' Yes, I called you a bitch. Bye..." I add as I walk away, my smile genuine this time.

Yes, I was rude and some people might even say bitchy too, but when you work with snakes, you learn to deal with them one way or another. Miley is the biggest snake who has always been a thorn in my flesh, No matter how much I try to get rid of her, she just won't go away. "Le está bien empleado" (serves her right), I say to myself as I approach Darren.

"What's got you smiling? Wait, I don't even want to know. Anyway, here's all you need to know about your guest: His name is Brandon Wilson, billionaire, business mogul, heir to Wilson Holdings."

"Sorry, excuse me, Darren-Wilson Holdings?

"This is why briefings are usually a week before the event, so you can familiarize yourself better", he says

No, no, I know Wilson Holdings; I think everyone in New York City knows it. But you said he's the heir, so I'm assuming he's Bernard Wilson's son?"

"Yes, it's the son, but-"

"Okay, got it. Rich Spoiled daddy's boy who-"

"Can you stop cutting me off and just listen?"

"Sorry, my bad. Go on."

"I've catered only two events that he's attended. He's not the public social type, so what I'll tell you is do not speak until spoken to. Serve exactly what he asked for. If he's with a guest, you know the drill, but your main priority is Mr. Wilson. He has a reputation for being cold and has an icy demeanor, so please don't be rude."

"I'm not rude..."

"I'm not done... Sorry."

"You know the rules and regulations by heart. You're not new to the game, so please, no drama."

"Sir, yes sir..." Just then, Darren's assistant approaches us and tells him something.

"Okay, he's here. Let's go."

"Lead the way," I say as I follow them. Just as we arrive, a car pulls up to the entrance. A man in a black suit steps out, and as I watch him move around the car, I realize he's not my guest; he should be the driver or something. Just as he's about to open the car door, it swings open from the inside and nearly hits him in the face. The man quickly holds the door, and I find myself surprised by what I see. He stood at the door like he owned the whole world around him-tall, broad-shouldered, and dressed in a suit that probably cost more than everything I own. But it wasn't the expensive fabric that made me pause-it was his eyes.

Grey.

Not green, not blue-just pure, stormcloud grey. Cold and unreadable, like they'd seen too much and cared too little. The kind of eyes that looked through people, not at them.

His jawline could probably cut glass like literally, sharp and unfairly sculpted, like some Greek god had decided to try its luck at being rich in a modern century. And those shoulders? Made me feel like I was looking at a damn fortress.

"Mierda, ese hombre es muy guapo." (Holy shit, that is one fine-looking man) I quietly say to myself. Just then, Mr. Anderson, the host of the event, interrupts my thoughts.

"Brandon Wilson! Welcome, welcome," he exclaims, extending his hand to him.

"Mr. Anderson, I know this was out of the blue since I didn't RSVP," he responds, accepting his hand.

"No, no, nonsense! We are happy you could make it. This is my wife, Mrs. Susan Anderson."

"Pleasure to meet you, Mr. Wilson," she says.

"The pleasure is all mine, Mrs. Anderson," he replies as they shake hands.

"And this is Darren Johnson, the man I put in charge of planning this event and all the others I've thrown. As you can see, he's good at what he does."

"Hmmm," he replies.

Darren discreetly taps me, and I know that's my cue.

"Mr. Wilson, this is Alexis Torres. She will be personally catering to you tonight, so if you need anything at all, just ask her, sir."

"Good evening, Mr. Wilson," I say.

He glances at me but doesn't acknowledge what Darren just said. Instead, he begins walking in, with Mr. Anderson following closely behind.

Okay, he might be attractive with those grey eyes and all , but his character is definitely from the gutter.Got it "Arrogant Billionaire, Limited edition" then.They can never be perfect; there's always a flaw. I quickly shake off my thoughts and switch into work mode and follow behind.