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It was early morning, around two in the morning. Surely, I had been awake longer than necessary. Thoughts are harder to control at bedtime. I had already taken all possible migraine medications. I rest my face on my hand as I gaze out the window. The lights in the room were off, and lying in bed was stressing me out.
The reason for my stress had a name and at least 39 pages: Alencar's company purchase contract. Big projects like this made me anxious. All the nervousness I didn't allow myself to show during the day was keeping me awake at night.
I get up and walk around the room, trying to stretch and relax my feet that had been in high heels all day. Staying there was suffocating me. I massage my temples and tie my hair up in a high bun. I sit at a table in the center of the room and turn on the bedside lamp. Paying attention to all the notes and markings I made on my copy, I start flipping through the contract that was handed out at the meeting the previous day with the company's lawyers. I try to carefully review each clause, but my head was simply too accelerated to let me work.
Completely frustrated, I get up from the table, seriously questioning how I still had the head for this work. I wanted to disappear momentarily. I let out an exasperated grunt as I sit on the bed.
I open my cell phone, but the brightness seemed simply too much for my headache, so I leave it on the bed. I wonder if I could order something from the hotel kitchen at that hour. It crossed my mind to go out to eat something, but Scarlett would probably scold me if I wanted to cross the door without notifying her first.
Scarlett Kettermann... A woman several centimeters taller than me, with black hair and dark brown eyes, with an impeccable résumé. When I met her in person, her way of speaking gave me confidence right away. That's why I decided to hire her services. She selected the team and has been my shadow most of the time since then.
Kettermann was easy to deal with and generally quiet. I know it's part of the protocol to act like she's not there, but a part of me is curious to find out what's beneath all that serious scowl and black suit. I chuckle to myself at the unintentional double entendre in the phrase.
Finally, I decided to get up and look for something interesting in the minibar. I didn't find anything that caught my attention. There was an espresso machine somewhere. So many dollars per night... I hoped at least the hotel owner himself would make coffee for me. I know a phone call would be enough to get coffee, but I don't want to bother anyone with my insomnia. I wanted someone to talk to. There was no trace of sleep in my body, and lying in bed was torturous.
I find myself reflecting on the dinner. Alencar proved to be an excellent partner, but a little ignorant for my taste, still, nothing I wasn't used to dealing with. Obviously, it wasn't the first deal I closed with his companies, however, it would be the biggest one so far. This week's dinner would only be to formalize the documents. Doing business with him was a recommendation from my father, who, in turn, closed some deals with Alencar's father in the past, so I have known Alencar since adolescence, we even went to some parties together.
My father, enjoying billionaire retirement, ended up leaving the family companies under my responsibility. Personally, it was better this way. I can imagine the hell my life would turn into if I had to deal with my parents' estate. However, he occasionally showed up at the company. We didn't have a good relationship, and he wasn't a very present father, he even thought it was crazy to hire a woman as security. But it wasn't worth the argument.
The next day, I wake up at six with Brett entering the room like a whirlwind. I ended up not hearing the alarm clock this morning, but when I checked my cell phone, I noticed it had simply run out of battery. I apologize to Brett, take a shower, and get ready quickly. Kettermann was already waiting for me outside the room.
"Good morning, Miss McAllister," Scarlett says formally. Impeccable as always, not a hair out of place. She had a pleasant smell, wearing a black suit with a dark blue dress shirt buttoned up to the last button and the discreet wire of the communicator plugged into her left ear.
"Good morning, Kettermann," I start walking.
We had a quick breakfast at the hotel restaurant and headed to the company. It was a day with long meetings, and by around four in the afternoon, I could only wish for a private jet back home. I argued with at least six people and wanted to fire another five. Brett had to bring me lunch at two because the eleven-thirty meeting lasted longer than expected and ended up delaying other commitments. The meeting with accounting and marketing always took longer and would be the last one of the day.
Alencar was there as the second partner, doing his job with a smile on his face, just as I knew he would. I didn't like him as a person, but as a professional, he was excellent. Few people dealt with business matters with such mastery, and I had to acknowledge that. That was why, only that, I had him as a partner. Scarlett didn't leave my side for a minute. She observed everything, so discreet that sometimes I didn't even remember her being there.
We were leaving the building. It was past nine at night when I was stopped by a man almost 60 years old, wearing a brown suit. It was Alencar's father. Scarlett, even before he could get too close, stopped him, standing between me and him.
"I see the rumors are true, then, Dianna McAllister is in town," His smell is foul, a displeasing mix of nicotine, alcohol, and imported perfume.
During the little time I was forced to live with Alencar's father, I could notice that the son was superior to the father in everything. From character (not that Alencar Jr. was a good human being) to self-control and intelligence to deal with business. I also knew that he was envious of his own son because he knew he could never be what Alencar is. If it weren't for his son, he would have declared the family bankrupt a long time ago. That's why they needed me to close this deal.
"Not exactly a rumor, I had a business dinner with your son yesterday," I'm brusque, just wanting to end that conversation as soon as possible. His assets were blocked due to involvement with drugs, and Alencar has been in charge of all his father's shares and companies since then.
"Just say it already, don't waste my time."
"Funny how a gossip can ruin a man's credibility," He says too slowly for my taste, it was like watching a thirsty snake dripping its own venom. "From a woman in this case. Allow me to say that it has come to my knowledge that you have indeed decided to proceed with Alencar's millionaire project. I also heard that you are only doing this at your father's request. The reality is that you think you own the world, however, you are nothing but a puppet in the hands of the man who neglected you your whole life. The truth is, and you know it very well, that you are nothing but a pretty face to convince investors."
Kettermann moves, but I touch her shoulder.
"Finished? Now you'll listen to me. When you can keep your companies without needing a babysitter, come to the president's office and come discuss with me as an equal. Your son is being generous to keep your allowance, even knowing you won't do anything useful with it. A father depending on his own son? You should be ashamed." The arrogant smile he carried fades away, and mine only grows.
I see him lean forward to retort. Before he could advance any further, Scarlett steps in front of him, which makes him change his mind.
"Let's go, Kettermann, the most that guy can do is vomit the gin he had for breakfast all over you."