One Night With Mr Braxton

Mrs. Steele returned to her office, feeling all kinds of inexplicable emotions. After the day she’s had, it wasn’t a shocker she needed some time to herself and immediately she ordered her secretary to hold off meetings for the remainder of the day.

More than anything else, she yearned for the peace of knowing everything was going in order without having her pop up to clean some mess created by sheer carelessness and lack of commitment. Who knew that some old and washed-up female butler could disrespect her person in such a dignified manner?

The worst part of the experience was she had to play to her tune, knowing her stupid manager had done a poor job curtailing the situation. What ruffled her the most was the information that the little fiasco was storming up some fire of disrepute and public angst against her company, therefore tainting the newly released collection.

As opposed to the free and endlessly ascending flow of the sales and popularity of their newly launched design, everything had stalled. When she received the news and its possible cause, she had to get to the venue, having just concluded a meeting close by.

That wasn’t her pain. Her pain stemmed from the fact that despite her daughter being at the forefront of the affairs of her new collection, she appeared to be distracted and idled away while everything threatened to collapse!

Typical Talia. Never available at the right time, busy with unproductive things. At this point, she was beginning to wonder if she made the wrong choice in accepting Cole as a son-in-law. Despite his impressive leadership skills, she was yet to see any positive influence on her daughter’s attitude to work. Instead, it seemed like he had been successfully dragged into the pit of dis-seriousness.

How else do you explain a grown and committed man, taking time out to create such unnecessary stunts for the sake of public displays of affection? All the while, airing their dirty laundry to the public and disrupting an otherwise great interview she organized to promote their recent release. Maybe she needed to have a word with him, bring him back to the focus.

Mrs. Steele poured herself a cup of juice, happy to get the stress of the day mulled away but busied herself with the day’s news. Due to her schedule, she rarely had enough time to play on her phone, talkless of glancing at a newspaper. Her secretary had long taken on the duty of informing her of news that she needed to hear. That didn’t stop her from requesting that the day’s papers be brought to her table every day and afterward shelved away from her eyesight before the next working day.

She hated clutter.

Today was different though. She was reasonably freer and open to glancing through a newspaper as opposed to doing nothing. Reading was an exercise of the mind, one that felt more enjoyable when valuable information could be harnessed. Mrs. Steele read the front page of the day’s newspaper and what she saw nearly sent her juice pouring from her mouth.

She picked up her glasses, with rapt attention, reread the headline of the news outlet. Showing her she hadn’t seen wrongly. Matter-of-fact, everything was clear as day. But how could it be?

MR. BRAXTON, PERMANENT PRESIDENT OF THE EMPIRE – the headline read, sending her into the contents of the story.

After skimming through the content, a clear picture was painted, barely informing the public of the inner workings of the matter but giving just enough information to prove that the mad CEO had prevailed during his trying times and was actively working to get the company out of dangerous waters and reclaim their undisputed position as No 1 in the business world.

Reading the article gave her more unrest than she expected. Knowing how huge of a part her family was supposed to play in the overall victory of the Braxtons, she couldn’t help but wonder what happened. After the announcement of the death of Emma, the family cut off communication and she heard of the unforeseen relocation of the elder Mrs. from the state.

An occurrence she linked to the fact that her family was on the verge of collapse. Therefore, causing her to throw some weight behind bars to ensure she had a sizable amount of profit from their downfall. She’d even anonymously sold information regarding the entire situation. A business she was duly compensated for.

With the sudden rise of Mr. Braxton, she felt skeptical and invested in finding out what changed the tides in their favor. Just the previous day, news on the street hinted at the irrevocable loss of the CEO position by Mr. Braxton and less than 24 hours later, a new regime was announced, welcoming him back.

He never even left! How absurd was that?

Charged with curiosity, she made a few calls and what she found out shook her down to her bone marrow. Mr. Braxton spun up a last-minute card that showcased his new identity as a married man. Although his wife remained anonymous, one could only imagine the background she stemmed from which made a marriage to her capable of stilling the storms that rocked Braxton International.

Who was this woman? What were the odds that a marriage from her would override the stipulated will that necessitated his supposed downfall? Something was missing, something felt fishy and at that time, Mrs. Steele felt determined to find it.

*****

Meanwhile, at the helm of a clock tower, a young man stood, looking over the city. His face was taut and angry, his muscles flexed and his teeth ground in irritation. With a swift turn, he threw a dart at a picture, plastered on the wall behind him, breathing fire as he took in the face of the one true enemy.

He’d been so close, everything was playing according to plan and within hours, all his labor was reduced to nothing. Just like him, he succeeded in bringing a flawless plan to the ground. Dead, forgotten, and useless.

With a guttural growl, he threw down a table holding a variety of files and proceeded to raise carnage on everything except for the clock which stood majestically, mocking him. Being a staunch believer of time and the gazillion possibilities and opportunities it held, it wasn’t easy to stomach the fact he had spent so much time nurturing and growing one plan only to have it terminated at the time of success.

Even harder to stomach the loss when it came from a person who looked like that. Destroying years worth of preparation in less than a day and affirming the thoughts that have plagued him for years. The bell chimed and he was brought back from the angry groaning mess he was. The time read 3 pm. He wasn’t allowed to waste any more time pining over spilled milk.

Navigating through the mess, He picked up a picture, one that was very instrumental in the case, and pinned it to the middle of the wall. His next target. An eerie familiar smile graced his face, and following that was an out-pour of ideas, story ideas, one that he planned to bring to life using his most recent pawn.

Laughing maniacally, he plots the story, adding a plot twist that excited his child-like self and a firm deadline he intends to keep.

Any means necessary.

*****

Asher and Emma were seated across from each other. A check was placed between them, a check, and a debit card.

” Which will it be?” He spoke, watching her every move.

Emma’s stern orbs are on the two distinctive payment options placed before her. ” Why must you make this difficult?”

His eyebrow tilted, questioning her choice words, ” How, they are both valid options, you either take the check or the card.”Content © copyrighted by NôvelDrama.Org.

Noting the sincere look of confusion, she broke into a barely hidden laugh, “it’s not that serious,” she took the check, ” thank you.”

” Don’t even dare. Sit, Mrs. Braxton.” Asher commanded her retreating feature. She stilled. ” Our discussion is far from over.”

” Correct your tone or it will be.” She spoke, not bothering to turn around. Her fingers clutched the envelope in her hands and she willed herself not to take any bullshit from anyone. Not even her husband- fake husband.

” I apologize. Come sit,” He said, testing the waters. He wasn’t looking forward to having any sort of discord. At least not yet. ” Please.” He added and that did the job.

Emma returned to her position, satisfied with the outcome of her mild irritation and impatient to be done with the meeting. She needed time. Time to plan and set up the next phase of her life.

” Thank you.” He began, ” I wanted to inform you of some guidelines for this particular setting.”

” Great, another fancy word for more rules.” She thought, making a face.

Asher was by her side in seconds, doubled over, and too darned close for comfort. How did he get here again?

” I didn’t get that?” He breathed into her ears. ” If this is going to work, we need to communicate our thoughts, verbally.” He added, dangerously close to her.

Emma gulped.