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Chapter 45: Mrs. Davenport and her scheme
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2022-03-08 18:50:50Amy sighed, her knees kissing the ground in front of a vending machine. Her sulking face told, she missed her breakfast as her grumbling stomach confirmed it. She barely came to her work today after a handful of argument she had with her mother in the early morning before she came here.
The place she crouched was quiet as she. She had come way too early. Her normal routine was coming there ten minutes earlier than her work started. Good news was, her this new job was far from her home and she had to stay there long until six in the evening. Her gleaming reflection on the glass of the vending machine looked over at the can of juices which whirled inside the machine, making her notice the sound and follow throughout the machine.
The ivory blouse wrinkled around her collar, which she straightened as the can of cold coffee with following a bag of plain salty potato chips slid out of the machine.
Her eyes fixed
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A long shadow covered her crouching figure before the vending machine. Amy lost in thought, still clutching the drink and the pack of snack she bought from the machine. The shadow galloped her entire slouching body when she realized the dark thing and turned to see a guy who bent over to look after her.“All fine, Amy?” The guy in a peach shirt smiled at her. His square face gleamed through the daylight coming behind him as his high-bridged nose of his stuck out to be noticed.“Yep!” Amy yelled suddenly, making him jolt at her reaction. She fell behind, bumping her butt against the hard surface as her face turned peach red, similar to that guy’s shirt. The guy reached out for her hand, stretching his palm to her with a wide smile on his face. Amy felt her stomach lurching, but not because of anxiety but for the flutter of her heart, which seemed to throw all her blood into her stomach.
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An enchanting music echoed through the air, the violin strings playing around with their friendly notes as the golden sparkles emerged through those high-quality decorations. A shimmering chandelier emerging from the middle of the ceiling, lighting the whole place with the candles inside of it. The restaurant was packed with high-class people clamping around the middle of the entire floor. Ryan barely got a seat as they arrived suddenly and received a corner table with a few disadvantages of not getting to see the place’s special performance, where two dancers took the role of their main entertainer. His assistant Jim and a lady sat around a round table filled with some starters and juices.Ryan, in the middle of them, gawked at their silly tantrums quarreling about before. A waiter in a white striped shirt brought the food he ordered. The lavish lunch looked delicious even though the lady still argued that it smelled awful, yet her mouth seemed to water
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“How long will we stay here? An hour or more?” Jim asked in a monotone, clearly annoyed by this visit to Ryan’s family bungalow. This place never welcomed him and he will never expect them to do so today as well. He surveyed the garden in front of the enormous mansion, standing elegantly. Only if the person living there would be decent, he thought.“More,” said Ryan with a sigh, whose eyes hovered around the house. Glancing over at the long staircase leading to the balcony's upper floor. He, too, never wanted to come there, not at least in his will. Though at first Lavenda had bothered him about coming, he firmly refused, but when Mr. Dayholt, apparently his grandfather, asked him to come, he could barely decline. All these years he never talked to him, yet his invitation seemed urgent, and he decided to come.“What more!” Jim yelled. A gardener tending the flowers looked up a
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‘The study room should be upstairs,’ Ryan mumbled. The wide staircase landed right in front of his feet as he stepped on the stairs, hoping no one will disturb him anymore that he was meeting his grandfather, who was still in the dining hall. His digestive system must be poor or he was too lazy to eat up fast that Mr. Dayholt was still in his lunch while Ryan finished. Rather than eating fast, he almost skipped everything to desserts and after a bowl of egg tart, he went off.“Where do you think you are going?” a voice yelled behind him. Though not loud enough for people in the dining to hear him. The frail person wobbled to stand, his blood-red eyes shooting fierce glances at him. His over loose night dress, still on his frail figure, suggested his absence from the dining table. He was probably still asleep when he appeared.“Mind your business, John,” Ryan snapped. With the thin p
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