The homeless girl and the CEO

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Chapter Thirteen

Leah's POV


Following Rosie's advise, I returned to The Branson Group, we even travelled to the office, together.


She mentioned the fowled mood Jordan has been in since Monday evening, improved after his grandfather visited his office on Friday, with him even signing off early because, he had a hot date.


Even though it shouldn't, hearing about him having a hot date, iked me a bit, for no reason but I have sworn off men and based on the way Rawle dumped me without actually saying the words, confirms that men like him and Jordan whose rolling in dough, believes they're Gods gift to women.



Not to me they aren't!



They are a curse that I need to keep far away from me.



Rosie directed me to Jordan's office again confirming his grandfather will be waiting there for me.


Why there?


When he said he'll be transferring me to his legal team?


Trusting Mr. Branson and Rosie, I hopped on the elevator and made the trip to the thirty second floor, where the Marketing Department is located, my heart thudding against the inner walls of my chest.


Knocking on the open door, I peered inside to see Jordan's PA sitting behind his desk, his head bent as he sorts through some documents in his hand.


Lifting his head, his polite smile disappears, replaced by surprise, then embarrassment.


Standing quickly to his feet, he looks to the closed door, before turning to address me.


"Ms. Morrison, good morning," Vinnie greeted me.


Stopping myself, just a moment, wondering how fake he's being?


When I didn't respond to his greeting, he moved around his desk and towards where I stood.


Indicating the closed door behind him, "uh.." he hesitated now, "Mr. Branson is waiting in Jordan's office for you," he smiles politely.


Nodding, I finally moved towards the closed door, "thank you," I muttered softly, walking past him.


"I'm sorry," he said, as I pass by.


When I didn't respond, he continued. "I hope you can forgive me and let me prove, that I'm not the bastard you met last Monday." He added.


Hearing the sincerity in his voice, I turned to stare at him.


"If I had another choice, I won't be here," I told him, sincerely, as he turns red, "Last Monday is gone and I'm here to work not to socialize." I repeated the words that's repeated to every new employee at my father's company and with a slight nod, I walk towards the closed door, my head held high, determined not to let another man break me.


"Come in," I heard a strong assertive voice behind the closed door, already planning to leave if Mr. Branson is not there.


Opening the door, I entered the office cautiously, my eyes darting involuntarily to the person behind the desk, despite my will.


Jordan sat behind his desk in all his glory, staring back at me with an unreadable expression in his eyes. I breathe a sigh of relief when I saw the back of the grey hair man sitting in front of Jordan.


Turning, Mr. Branson stands, along with his grandson to greet me.


"Lily," Mr. Branson, stretches out both his hands, "come sit," he shifts the chair beside him, making room for me to pass.


"Morning," smiling, my eyes fixated on Mr. Branson, as I willed myself not to look at the man, standing quietly, opposite us.


"Good morning," I heard Jordan greet me, softly but refused, to turn in his direction.


Averting my eyes, I frown at the bouquet of flowers on Jordan's desk, that he's reaching for.


LILIES!


He raised the bouquet of lilies towards me.


Keeping my eyes on the flowers, determined, not to make eye contact.


"These are for you." He said and I actually smile.


No one other than my father gave me lilies.


I couldn't stop the soft smile from creeping on my lips.


Reaching out, t0 accept the bouquet, not because of his grandfather but, because it reminded me of daddy.


"Thank you," I whispered, my eyes focus on his neck, where his shirt was slightly open, revealing a thick gold chain, where an eagle pendant hung.


"Have a seat," Mr. Branson invites me.


"Thank you," I take the seat I was offered but my experience from my last visit in this office, weighs heavily on my mind.


"Now down to business of the day," Mr. Branson, taking the initiative, opens the conversation.


"Initially, you were suppose to start in your area of expertise this morning but Jordan showed me this." As Mr. Branson spoke, he took some pages from a file in front of him and handed it to me.


It's the pages Jordan flung at me before sending me off, last Monday.


Did I make a mistake coming here today?


I nervously wait for Mr. Branson to continue, hoping he doesn't reprimand me for making notes, when I read it previously.


"I read your notes and I like what I read," surprised at his words I finally lifted my eyes to meet his, smiling as his soft smile, draws me in.


"So, Jordan suggested you make your presentation to the client, which is what you will be working on because we have a meeting schedule with them on Wednesday." Mr. Branson explained.


All I heard though, 'Jordan suggested?'


But he hated it!


As shocked as I was to hear Mr. Branson's words, I refused to make eye contact with his grandson, wondering how he must hate having to suggest that I complete this project.


Smiling brightly, "thank you Mr. Branson, I promise to do my best and not disappoint you." I responded, while gathering the pages neatly, together with my notes, which are still in tact.


Even though Jordan hurt me, it's not as painful like the hurt, experienced meted out by my parents, Rawle and Lissa.




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