Mrs Xavier

Xavier 's pov  

"Mr Xavier." my secretary calls as soon as I step out of the elevator. 

"Good morning Mr Xavier." she greets, earning a nod from me. 

I sigh when I realise I have forgotten her name again. The name always seems to fly out of my head in seconds.

"Mr Xavier your father called." Mrs no name secretary says as I walk to my office. 

"What did he say?" I ask, eyes forward. 

"He requested to see you." Her arm tightly wraps around a pile of files, hugging it to her chest. 

"And the reason?." I crook a brow.

"That he didn't say." She replies almost immediately.

"But he said it's very important." she quickly added, jogging to keep up with my pace. Emphasizing on the words 'Very Important.'

I stop and, taking some seconds to sort out my thoughts. 

"Cancel my schedules for today." I order before slamming the door behind me.

Now what is it this time?

  *************     

I park my car in front of my old people's mansion and hop out, tossing my key to the butler before making my way inside, and towards my dad's office.   

"You requested to see me". I ask rhetorically as I barge into the office, taking a sit opposite him.     

He set the file he was reading on the table and adjust his reading glasses. The gesture never gets old, just like the old man he is. 

"It wasn't me your mom wanted to see you." He states calmly.

Mom? 

How can someone say such dangerous words like a child talk?

"what?" I literally whip the invisible sweat hanging on my forehead. "She is back?"  

"What do you think?" He snorts, then fixes his gaze behind me. Giving me a low whisper. "I told you not to piss her off."

Shit.

My body turned stiff at the sound of heels clicking.   

Oh, no.. Not again....

"You little douchebag." Mom yells. Her hands reach for both my ears, pulling me off the chair with them.

That those hurts.

If there's anybody, I am scared of its mom, and my sisters 'the devil themselves'. Let me put it in a more simple way. All the women in the family are all psychopath. 

"Ouch! "I squeak in pain at a throbbing sensation.

"Hey mom" I grin, slowly reaching for her hand. 

"Don't you dare hey me, young man.," She snarls, increasing the pressure on my ear. "You didn't even call."

Ouch. Fuck.

"Sorry mom, I was busy." I apologise. "Your son is a ceo you know."

"Sorry? Ceo," she snorts, finally deciding to let go. "You weren't the one who had to go to Florida to attend to a fucking business deal. And for your information, it sucks." She snap.

"Language hon.... "Dad scolds, mom glares at him, making him shut up midway. 

That lady is one hell of a beast when she's mad. 

"And you have to start attending business related parties. I can't keep doing it for you."

"But mom." I whine. 

"You have been avoiding it for too long," she responds. "How are you going to win new investors if you don't even want to meet them?"

"I can have someone attend to represent me." I reason hopefully. 

"No." She snarls sternly "I don't care how you are going to do it, get a 'p. a' to help you with it or something, or am calling your sisters on you," She hollers as she makes her way out of the office. 

Fucking hell. Not the devil's.

Those girls almost made me model a thong. 

Yes, they almost made this cold CEO model a thong. 

Then 'p. a' it is. 

****************

Pari's pov 

"Come on, Pari, put this on." Dad orders, handing me an apron. 

"But dad...., my shift is over," I scowl, hands crossed. 

There's no way am staying any longer here. 

"You know Lillian is sick and won't be coming for her shift. You need to fill in for her, please, sweetie."

"No." I shake my head in disagreement. 

Why does it have to be me? Do I have an angle Michael 'helper of all sick mortals.' sign written on my forehead?

"Please, honey." Dad draws, giving me the puppy eyes. 

Don't give in–Dont give in Paris.

Ignore. You see absolutely nothing. Ignore......

"Argh, okay." I groan. "Just stop giving me the puppy eyes.”

Well, that's another thing we have in common. 'The puppy eyes.' a major asset in the family.

"Thanks, sweetie." He smiles, then dumps the apron in my hands.  

I tie the apron around my waist, then make my way to the front of the counter. My eyes fixed on the clock '7:01', I groan inwardly. 

Oh, great, another two hours with these rich brats.

"Waiter!!" someone calls, obviously a girl. 

You can tell from the sharp pitch voice. 

I walk towards the table with a big fake smile on my face. 

"Your order, please." I ask calmly. 

"Get me a plate of Cobb salad and a French wine." She orders arrogantly. 

This jobs always makes me think of slavery.

"Be right back." I mutter, trying my best not to roll my eyes. 

"Make that fast." she scowls, her eyes fix on her phone. 

Rude. Even after applying layers over layers of makeup, she couldn't even adjust her bad behaviour to match the obviously fake cute face. 

I give her my biggest smile and make my way back to the counter. 

"She's really a handful, isn't she."Jason asks from behind the counter.  

"Believe me, she is worse than Cinderella's stepmother." I reply, handing the written order to him. "Have you met her before?"

"A coincidence." He smiles as he arranges the order. "Isn't your shift over?"

"Yea. Lilian is kind of sick, so the boss said I had to help." I mutter, tapping my fingers on the counter. 

"Well, good luck over there." He says with a low chuckle, "here."

"Thanks." I grin back.

"Anytime." He winks with a boyish smile. 

I return the smile and walked back to the table or you can say 'the witch's den' I gently place the contents of the tray one after the other on the table. 

"Aren't you going to pour the wine?" She snorts when I turn to leave. 

Lecture me on my job, bitch.

I grit my teeth to stop myself from saying something stupid and instead focus all the negative energy in pouring the wine into the glass cup before her. 

One step, two steps, three steps. I am free. I celebrate mentally as I walk away from the table. 

"Hey you" jeez can't you give me breathing some space? Have you even ever heard of that?

I retrace my steps back and stared at the girl who have been a source of frustration to me. 

Am so gonna murder someone. 

"This is not what I ordered for." she snap pointing at the glass of wine. 

"I said red French wine."

I frown staring at the glass containing the blue substance and fixed my eyes back to the bitchy witch sitting in front of me. God knows, remember clearly she said French wine. She could have just said red French wine when ordering. 

The common wine around here is the blue French wine. 

Jeez, seems like she enjoys watching me suffer. This wine is definitely coming out of my paycheck.

My poor salary. 

"Am sorry, be right back." I apologize.

"Better don't make another stupid mistake this time." She scowls hatefully.

Have I met this girl before?

I quietly place the French wine bottle and the glass on the tray I was holding and turn to leave, but bump into something hard, making the wine in the glass spill. 

Splattering all over a white surface, I can tell, is a fabric material.

Now I really wish it's a wall. 

(Author's note: well guess who she bumps into. Next chap coming up. Please rate and comment people. Love ya. ADIOS.) EDITED.