chapter 3

~Abigail~

We were surrounded by the gentle murmurs of other diners. The smell of grilled salmon and freshly baked bread filled the air. I expected dad and I to have dinner at home prepared by Aunt Meg, but dad decided we should go out on a dinner date and spend quality time together.

I loved the atmosphere here in the restaurant. It's a 5-star restaurant and can only be reserved if you're a VVIP and you've booked three months earlier, but my dad and I with other little privileged people can just come in anytime, any day. That's one of the advantages of being a Wellington. The view here makes Montreal far more beautiful, especially at night. The landscapes and buildings are just top notch if you're looking from this restaurant's view.

I sliced into my steak, a small smile on my face as I recounted the moments with my friends.

“Toronto is amazing, Dad,” I said, my eyes lightning up.

“The food, the culture, and my friends—oh, you remember my friends, Taylor and Mike, right?” I prattled.

“Isn’t Mike the ex-boyfriend?” He questioned, and I shrugged.

“Yes, but that's all in the past. Anyways, the three of us went to a social event one time, and it was a blast. I can't believe I forgot to tell you that. One of my best experiences there,” I kept on talking and talking, and he was listening, sometimes chirping in on things I've told him about.

“I think I'll move there permanently,” I added.

Dad nodded his head but stayed silent for a moment.

“I am glad you had a great time,” my dad said, setting down his glass. "But I wanted to talk to you about something important now that you are back.”

I tilted my head, sensing a shift in the conversation. “What’s up?”

“I have been thinking about your next steps. I know you've had a taste of freedom, and I'm proud of that. But Abby, it's time you've got some real business experience,” he stated, his facial expression looking serious.

“So I get to start working right away, in your company?” I asked, my tone neutral.

“I have arranged for you to start an internship,” he responded, and I froze on the seat.

My cutlery hanging in the air: “An internship?” I repeated.

“In your company?” I queried.

He shook his head slowly. “No, in Lucas' company,” he answered.

My brows furrowed in confusion, “Why not in your company? I thought that would make more sense.”

Of course, I know Uncle Lucas; he's Dad's best friend, and literally the only thing I can remember was him and the scowl on his face. I've never seen him smile; whenever he comes to our house, he's always there for business.

Dad sighed, placing his hands on mine. “Abby, I want you to learn how to work in a place where people won't be biased toward you because you are my daughter. You will need to start from the ground up—no special treatment, and Lucas' firm is perfect for that. They'll see you just as another intern, and you'll have to prove yourself without anyone holding your hands, and the board members in my company won't give you issues with this kind of shite,” he explained.

Of course, I understand that's what I also wanted, but his best friend, I don't think it's a nice idea.

“Alright, I know you want what's best for me, but then I need to process your words and think about it,” I stayed, and he smiled at me.

“Take all the time you need to, but don't make it very long,” he joked, and I laughed.

“Yeah, yeah,” I shrugged, and then we continued eating.

~~~

The next week, I found myself walking into a large, sleek office building where my Dad's best friend walked. The atmosphere was slightly different from what I had imagined; it was busy, professional, and slightly intimidating. I adjusted my blazer, feeling the weight of new expectations.

I reached the receptionist stand; she barely glanced at me, more focused on the steady stream of phone calls. I cleared my throat so at least she would acknowledge my presence. “Good morning, I'm Abigail Wellington. I'm supposed to start my internship today.”

The receptionist looked at me with her sharp glasses. “Second floor, HR will brief you,” she responded sternly. I swallowed in nothing and took the elevator up. I wondered how the rest of my day would be; the receptionist barely smiled; guess they took in their boss attitude.

When I arrived at the HR’s office, I was greeted by a man with a clipboard who gestured me warmly to follow him into a meeting room.

Inside the meeting room was Lucas Brooke. He was sitting majestically; his jet black hair was perfectly gelled to the back, bringing out specific details of his facial beauty. His golden eyes shone brightly as he stared at me, my eyes trailed their way down to his perfectly shaped noise, then to his cupid-shaped mouth. Damn, his jaws were perfectly chiseled, and before I could look at his other physique, a loud cough brought me back to reality.

I stared at the HR. Mr. Ethan looked like I missed some words when I was ogling at my dad's best friend.

“I’m sorry, I missed what you said earlier; can you repeat your words,” I said, silently cringing.

“First day at work and you are not concentrating; are you sure you are ready to work or perhaps you are content leaching off your dad's hard earned money,” he scoffed, and I gritted my teeth.

How could he speak so rudely to me on my first day of work? It's not my fault I decided to look at my surroundings carefully before focusing on work, and beside, can't he just overlook this and give a warning?

“I am sorry,” I muttered, trying to calm my nerves. This is the first day of work; I can't expect them to be overly nice to me, especially this grumpy old man.

“Here is your first assignment; it's nothing glamorous. Just organizing and cataloging old contracts; from there we would see how you'll handle real work,” he remarked. I could see the taunting smirk on his face.

If he knew he didn't want me to work in his office, then why did he agree to let me in?

I gritted my teeth as I accepted the file. This wasn't what I'd expected on the first day, but I knew this was what my father expected—not me.

I wanted no special treatment, not bullying at work.

I glanced at him, trying to forget how terribly ‘Ugly’ he is.

“I’ll get it done.”