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_OLIVER_

The day - and business - went by slowly. Usually, that isn't a good sign, but it was just for the day anyway. 

Slow though the day went, business was too thick and heavier than usual. I guess that's what I get for taking over the family business because my older sister got a sudden passion for music and left the company all to me when I was twenty-two years old. I didn't mind the work because honestly speaking, I expected her to abandon ship much earlier.

Most of the shareholders complained that I was too young and lacked appropriate experience to run the company but nobody argues better than Judd Woodling, my father, who seemed to be more than agreeable to my succession.

Woodling Incoparated is a large company with many branches that specializes in software. It is a family inheritance privilege. This company has been in my family for so long that I don't even remember the founder's name. I just know that he was from New Zealand.

Every Woodling had to be familiar with the family tree but there were only so many names that one mind could remember.

I looked at the sheet of paper in front of me, deciding that I had zoned out for far too long. The Lincolns must be fucking desperate for a deal with my company for them to agree to such a low share of profit without hesitation. What worse shame than seeking such help from a competitor.

Lincoln Company was slowly deteriorating and most of it's shareholders pulled out because of a public scandal five years ago. The current heir wants to rebuild and make it great again.

I remember how the former president of Lincoln bragged at business conferences, saying that Lincoln was going to expand without help from outsiders. He even went as far as saying that shareholders were shits that wasted the company's profits and drove unnecessary bargains.

I laughed lightly.

Oh, how the mighty have fallen. When you're that high up the ladder, a misstep would cause a huge crash.

Either that or they are just damn stupid. Even Lora could probably work that out.

A smile stretched my lips as I thought about my adorable, little Lora. It has been three years since I adopted her and she molded her way into my heart quickly.

Finding a woman in this hypocritical world of mine was troublesome. I don't like pets and the thought of adopting a child didn't sound too bad. I love children and I've got enough money to take care of them. 

She's turning eight years old next month and I couldn't wait. I had been planning her birthday for the past two months and the child deserved every drop of affection that I gave. She is the other half of me and is such an amazing girl that I sometimes forget that she isn't really mine. 

"Mr. Woodling, young Lora called," my assistant, Francesca, informed me in her light French accent as she walked into my office.

"Why didn't she call me directly?" I asked, closing my laptop and turning my gaze to her. 

"Well, she said that you weren't answering your phone." She looked at her wrist watch. "It's getting late, sir. You know how Lora fails to sleep when you're not home."

I chuckled and organized the files on my table. "I was about to leave anyway. What did Lora say?"

"She said that she wants a chocolate latte from Starbucks."

I stood up, grabbing my jacket and quickly pulling it on. "Alright then. I'll see you tomorrow."

~

A few minutes later, I was parked in the almost empty lot and came out of my car before throwing the jacket of my suit on the passenger seat. The sleeves of my white bespoke italian shirt were neatly folded to my elbows and I hoped to not stand out too much.

The cold air kissed my skin, and I was glad that I had tied my hair earlier because it was slightly windy outside. Locking the slick cobalt Lamborghini, I put the keys into my pocket and headed straight for the door leading into Starbucks.

My phone vibrated and I pulled it out of the back pocket of my trousers. I smiled when I saw that the text was from my daughter. 

Daddy, remember to order one with extra cream, it read. 

Too much sugar is bad for you, I replied and imagined her pouting at my response.

Lora is a Starbucks addict. It wasn't my type of place but she loves its beverages and it wouldn't hurt to get her her usual treat. She would be even happier if I ordered her favourite cupcakes along with her latte.

I was instantly pulled out of my train of thought when I felt a mixture of lukewarm liquid and a feminine body bump into me. I stepped back immediately - but it was too late. A large brown stain was imprinted at the front of my shirt.

"Oh God, I'm sorry," the young lady in front of me said in panic.

She was tall and slender, almost super model-like. I could only see the top of her head that was covered in long, straight brown hair. She was fervently wiping my shirt with a napkin as she mumbled incoherent apologies. 

I grabbed her small wrists with one hand and when she looked up, I was blown away by the beautiful pair of grey eyes that stared back at me, wide with surprise. Down her thin eyebrows were her eyes then came a slender nose that led to plumb peach coloured lips. Her hair framed her face immaculately and her skin was fair, but not too pale. 

I snapped back to reality and gently pushed her hands away. "It's okay. It's just a little liquid," I assured with a small smile. 

I could easily tell Francesca to get me several more anyway. 

She bit her lower lip nervously. "That's gonna leave a horrid stain on your perfect shirt." She shook the now empty plastic cup with dark trails on the sides from the spelt beverage. "My cuppa was caramel."

I smiled at her genuine concern. "It's fine, I could get a new one."

"But it looks really expensive." She suddenly smiled so brightly that it almost made my heart stop. "I know!" she said triumphantly and I could picture a brightly lit light bulb at the top of her head. "There's this great lundramat down the block." She visibly relaxed as she released a relieved sigh. "It's work is really good and it's super cheap. Talk about a good deal."

I was taken aback and wondered if she honestly had no idea of who I was. 

"Did I say something wrong?" She asked worriedly, obviously noticing my horrified facial expression, and I shook my head gently. 

Looking down at my phone screen, I noticed that it was passed 10am.

"I need to go, miss," I said.

"At least let me pay for your beverage. I owe you one."

"No, thanks. I don't want to trouble you and I'm in a hurry." I wanted to be as polite as I could but her persistence caught me off guard. 

She looked disappointed then nodded quickly. "I'm really sorry. If we meet again, I'll buy you a coffee."

Wanting to avoid another round of arguing, I nodded and we went our separate ways. What a weird lady.