The Marked One (The Marked Series Book 1)

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The Marked One (The Marked Series Book 1) Page 5

by Chevoque


  He smiled even wider, threw an arm over her shoulder, and walked her toward the opposite direction of the foyer and the elevators. Aaliyah felt utterly confused, and his buddiness was the last thing that bothered her. Their direction, on the other hand, was a completely different reason to question things, until he said, “Well, you are in luck. I do hugs as well. Prefer them, actually.” Aaliyah gulped down trying to ask where they were going, but he pressed on. “Now come with me. Mr. Gerardo is very excited to meet you.”

  Her knees locked and it caused the man’s arm to rip off her shoulder. “What?”

  He faced her. “Your interview is with Mr. Gerardo. He has a way better offer for you than City Lights Marketing ever would.”

  “I’m far too underdressed for that.” Her eyes felt as big as plates. She worried how her simple sheath dress could be made more classy in the elevator ride.

  “He is a normal guy, now come on. You’ll be fine.” Mr. Dennis-Patrickson led her the rest of the way to a private elevator, which was nestled in the back wall. They needed to pass two security guards and the elevator had no buttons, only a fingerprint scanner. Mr. Dennis-Patrickson placed his thumb on the scanner. They stepped in, and the elevator began to ascend.

  “Why does he want to see me? Had I done something wrong yesterday when I was here for the interview with Break Free Cosmetics? I did give back the pass and everything.” Aaliyah wasn’t feeling very well. Her heart was trying to pound through her chest and her head was fuzzy with confusion.

  “Ms. Johns has been fired.” Her vision went blank. “Ms. Aaliyah, are you okay?”

  She held a hand on the wall to prevent herself from falling over. “Please, tell me it isn’t my fault and that I’m not here to be taken to the authorities?”

  “Why would you…why are you afraid it is your fault? That bitch deserved it. She wasn’t following company policies, and she was stealing. If it wasn’t for you, we wouldn’t have known it,” he said easily as he fixed his already perfect tie in the mirror on the wall of the elevator.

  “That makes it my fault,” she said thinly. She caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror and felt even sicker, as she saw how simple she looked in her best dress.

  “You brought attention to the problem, and you weren’t the only one to have been treated unfairly in her interviews.”

  “But she lost her job.” Aaliyah regained a smidge of control as the elevator stopped and they stepped out. She felt awful, and even the beautiful view from the highest floor she’d ever been on wasn’t making her feel any better. They passed a sleek sunken lounge waiting area sat opposite a modern-style wood and silver metal desk, and they headed for the frosted door further to the back.

  “Aaliyah, you deserved that job. The others deserved that job. Do you understand that she needed to be exposed?” Mr. Dennis-Patrickson tried clarifying.

  Aaliyah stared at him. “But why me? Why does Mr. Gerardo want to see me? I’m not any different from…my face. It was because I was exposed yesterday. He felt sorry.”

  “I assure you, pity was and is his last thought when it comes to you.” The statement had her frowning as he led her inside Gerardo’s office, which revealed an even better view of the city from above. Only a few other buildings stood as tall as this one did, and she could see the rivers meet. There was another door and she assumed it was likely a private bathroom. “Mr. Gerardo will be here in a few moments. He is just overseeing the new management at Break Free Cosmetics. Can I get you anything?”

  “Water would be great,” she said through a dry throat.

  Mr. Dennis-Patrickson walked to a cabinet close to the entrance, opened a door, and revealed a small fridge, neatly hidden. “Glass? Ice? Lemon?”

  “No, just as it is would do.” Mr. Dennis-Patrickson handed her the bottle of water and left her in the office. She took a hefty gulp of the water and went to take a quick peek through the glass wall.

  The view was utterly breathtaking. She could see the Point State Park fountain, the red cable car of The Duquesne Incline, and even Heinz Field on the opposite riverbank.

  She walked to the small lounge area and took a seat, still not properly realising that she was about to meet one of the biggest businessmen in the country. She recalled from the map guide that Vera had given her that the man had recently turned fifty and in it he said he was going to retire. Taking a calming breath, she heard an unknown masculine voice outside. She knew it was real. She was going to meet the man at the top.

  The door clicked open. As she rose, she knocked her bottle of water over, the cap luckily on. After quickly setting it back upright on the mahogany coffee table, she finally turned around. The man she faced though, sure couldn’t have been the fifty-year-old Arnoldo Vittorio Gerardo.

  “You can’t be fifty years old. You are far too…” She stopped herself before she said too many things she would later regret. Her eyes grew wide as what she said fully sunk in. The man standing in front of her was incomparable to anyone she had come across, yet she never felt more at ease than when he smiled beautifully.

  “Miss, if you were expecting an older man, I’m afraid my father has retired.” He closed the door behind him. His scruffy dark blonde hair wafted casually as he turned back to face her and his dark eyes looked more seriously at her. “It seems you have done insufficient research of the corporation, if you don’t even know who the CEO is.”

  “No, I did,” she quickly explained, attempting to avoid the beautiful olive-skinned man’s scrutinising eyes. “The Gerardo Corporation was formally established in 2001, after being created in 1999. Only in 2008 did the company become internationally recognised, when Arnoldo Vittorio Gerardo became a billionaire and…ouch, you’re the son. I am so sorry. I…”

  The man was smirking at her. He only had one dimple on his right cheek, nestled beneath his trimmed beard that caused his smile to look a little uneven. She let out a breath.

  “I was just teasing you, but I’ve been the CEO for a while now.” He didn’t sound unkind, and the way he was looking at her was quite admirable. It felt a little like he was assessing her, which made her uncomfortable but she smiled. “Please take a seat. I’m Tristano Gerardo.” He went to the armchair and sat facing her, as she still hadn’t sat down.

  She couldn’t but stare at him. It had to be the position, his upbringing or something more probably to do with genetics that made him look so perfect.

  “Miss Labuschagne, please take a seat.” He smiled again, and she swallowed hard on the lump stuck in her throat.

  She finally sat. “You got my surname right.”

  “Google is a helpful master.” He smirked and she returned it with a grin. “Miss Labuschagne, I need you to be honest when I ask you this following question.”

  “O-of course,” she stammered feebly as she wondered if he only brought her in to confirm Ms. Johns’ improper interview procedure. But the stressful thought went away as the light that caught his eyes made them look hazel, instead of dark brown.

  “Did you really want to work at Break Free Cosmetics?” he inquired matter-of-factly while his gaze stayed locked with hers.

  The question wasn’t one she had expected, but she needed a job. “I’ve been using their products for so long that I…” the way he looked at her showed he didn’t buy it “…know that it works and being able to work for them would be a great opportunity. We all need to start somewhere and if I could with them, as a receptionist, that would be more than I’d ever expect.”

  He didn’t say anything and she realised she had nothing to lose by being honest, so she went with it, as the comfort she felt helped her to reveal the truth.

  “The honest answer is, I would rather want to have a job as a business analyst, instead of a receptionist or assistant’s job, but I know that I need to work toward that by starting lower.”

  “But you are looking for adventure, for that something different. Is that is why you came back to the US? You could get that far more easily in South Africa with
the US degree than you’ll ever get here.” He analysed her reaction, and she truly felt more comfortable around him than she ever had around anyone else, which was odd. He was a billionaire, or at least an heir to billions, and she currently only had acting as an artist’s model on her résumé. “What is it that you really want to do? Science?” It felt far from a question.

  She frowned so hard, it nearly hurt. “How did you know?”

  He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his thighs and looking at his hands for a moment. When he looked back at her, the seriousness in his eyes was far more intense. “I saw you yesterday, when you were outside of the building.”

  “The man,” she whispered. She remembered that after she left, she looked back and saw someone talking to the man who made her feel like a monster.

  “What is Gerardo’s motto, Ms. Labuschagne?” he casually asked.

  “You can’t tell me that you saw me yesterday and then continue the interview, if that is what this is.” She felt exposed, so she became defensive. He said nothing, and she realised it might be connected, and then she finally said, “Judge only one’s self.”

  He settled back. “You were highly upset when you left the building, even before the man…I don’t want anyone to look the way you did. I had Ivan find out who you were and what you were doing here. I assumed you might be a client or an employee. My point is that is how I found your résumé. More importantly, that is also how I found out that one of my companies mistreated you and others due to people who don’t even know, let alone follow, the Gerardo motto.”

  “And then Ms. Johns was fired.” Somehow she felt responsible so she looked down at her hands, so wrung together the flesh was feeling tender.

  There was a long moment of silence before he spoke again. “Aaliyah.” Her head popped up and she met his eyes. He’d called her by her name, and for the first time in her life, she liked how it sounded. “If I may ask, why have you covered your face today?”

  She let out an odd sigh-laugh. “So fewer people would stare.”

  “But you still keep your face turned.” He didn’t seem unkind. He was definitely out of line, however, but the forwardness was far more refreshing than the covert glances she got when people who knew of her mark tried seeing it beneath her makeup.

  She realised then that she was still holding her left side hidden, so she turned to face him completely.

  “It’s a habit?” She only nodded. “I understand it is likely a fear associated with the idea that people would still see who you really are, but I don’t want you to hide from me.” Aaliyah was certain a number of reactions crossed her face. “I want you to honestly answer the following question. Do you like working in labs because less people work with you, therefore they see you less?”

  “Yes.” She swallowed her slight discomfort. “Less eyes to judge when you work alone.”

  “There have been few people in your life to actually see the beauty.” She shrugged. Suddenly, he stood and walked to a door, which she assumed was for his private bathroom, and disappeared for a second. He returned with a washcloth and took a seat next to her on the couch.

  She felt his heat at her side. He smelled of summer rain as he held the cloth out toward her. The complete astonishment of what this man was asking her to do made her barely capable of shaking her head.

  “May I?” The admiration she saw in his eyes made her lose her tongue, and after a moment, he gently caressed her chin with his thumb.

  She released a breath she been holding, and he turned her face so her left side was to him. He barely looked away from her, wiping the cloth over the left side of her forehead. Closing her eyes for a moment, she realised that by looking at him, looking into his eyes, trying to see how he saw her, had given her courage so she opened them again.

  His hand moved to her cheek and he softly smiled at her as he more tentatively cleared away the makeup. For a moment her emotions were taking her to old places, whiplashing her into new ones, completely abandoning her in confusion over why she felt okay with herself being exposed to a man who could rule the world.

  Thick tears collected on her eyelids. “Aaliyah, don’t cover the uniqueness that is you. If people don’t see it as beauty, they don’t deserve to be in your presence. I think you are beautiful as you are.” He looked into her eyes, and she felt the urge to kiss him. To thank him for his odd kindness and, at least for a while longer, walk on the cloud that was making her feel she might drift away.

  He stopped and looked at her.

  She felt the tears roll from her eyes. “Can I get a moment to fix myself?” He gestured at the door to the side and handed her the washcloth. As she entered the small bathroom, she closed the door and leaned against it for a moment. She sighed and looked at her face, partially exposed in the mirror.

  Stepping closer, her fingers traced over the mark she hated. Nothing in her mind found any logical explanation as to why Mr. Gerardo had looked at her so admirably, even less why he had basically cleaned her face of the makeup. Shaking her head of the confusion, she worked on removing all the makeup, knowing it was the better option than walking out with half a face.

  As she entered the office again, Mr. Dennis-Patrickson was there holding papers on a clipboard for Mr. Gerardo to sign. Mr. Dennis-Patrickson only smiled at her as she went to take a seat again. She was worried over what he was making of the fact that her makeup was removed. He left without a word and a short, awkward silence passed.

  “Gerardo Corporations has a research facility at the marina near the zoo and aquarium. I want you to start there tomorrow. The lab is seeking a technician, so they already have things with which you would be able to help,” Mr. Gerardo began to say.

  Aaliyah was now more certain this all was a huge joke, yet the man continued.

  “Your achievements while studying were quite impressive, and while the business sector will miss out on your knowledge, the environment needs to be protected first,” Mr. Gerardo said as he rose from behind his desk. He adjusted his perfect silvery gray vest and walked back to where they were sitting earlier at the lounge.

  “Is this a type of joke you play on people in your spare time?” He surely didn’t miss the bitchiness in her tone.

  “Ms. Labuschagne, this is no joke. I understand how strange this all must be, but I think you deserve this opportunity.” His eyes were fixed on hers, and she actually believed him.

  She couldn’t quite figure out what was happening, as the offer, the situation, and the opportunity felt surreal. So she stumbled over her words when she said, “But most of my formal scientific studies were done in South Africa and when I got the exchange student bursary, I only continued the environmental science stuff as extra modules. I don’t even have a proper degree.”

  “But you have all the studying one needs. Practical-wise, you were the best in your year in South Africa and it was the reason you were chosen for the bursary to come here. When you got here, the university was at capacity for what you were supposed to study and you took what they gave you and embraced it.”

  “It is kind of creepy how you know all this,” she said, overwhelmed that he knew she had spent half a year after school working on environmental studies and then got the chance to do so at the University of Pittsburgh, even if things hadn’t quite gone as planned. And now, four years later, she had a business degree and a makeshift science degree with all the modules she needed.

  He smiled at her. “I have the resources to be creepy.” She chuckled. “So what do you say? Want the job?”

  She hesitated, fearing there was a catch, that she’d be made a fool of by someone. “It’s not that I’m ungrateful, but why?”

  “I assure you I don’t have any ulterior motives, other than wanting to set right what one of Gerardo’s employees had done wrong, and in hopes that I might get to know you.”

  She let out a sound of disbelief, shaking her head. “It doesn’t seem you need me for that, based on your research.”

  “I meant more pe
rsonally, if possible,” he replied with what seemed a shy smile.

  She felt flattered but also cautious, but the worry dissipated because this man had her hooked. She entertained his notion. “I thought in-office relationships were a no-go.”

  “You won’t be working directly for me. I’m sure there is a loophole.” She smiled like an imbecile. If she could sway like a teen, that was what she wanted to do in that very moment. This utterly attractive man was suggesting a relationship with her after he had seen her face. In fact, he wanted to see her exposed and never had she felt more confident. “Would you like to have dinner?” he asked after she seemed to think things over for too long.

  There was a knock on the door, followed by Mr. Dennis-Patrickson sticking his head through the crack. “Sorry to interrupt, but Mr. Young has arrived.”

  “Thank you, Ivan,” Mr. Gerardo said and the door closed again. Aaliyah jumped up, wanting to leave, but he stood with her. They were at eye level and only a few centimetres apart. “So, would you?”

  Her mind went loopy. “Would I what?” He was about to speak. “Oh, the job. Yes, please. Thank you.” She hoped he’d forget about asking her to dinner, as she was certain it was a hallucination that was part of the drug-induced euphoria of having her dream come true.

  He took her by her elbows. “Aaliyah, the dinner?”

  Her mouth went dry. “Yes,” she said and added, after he sighed with what seemed to be relief, “just not tonight, I have plans with a friend.”

  “I am leaving the state to go do business for a while, so how about Friday night?” He became cautious and let his hands slip away. The lack of touch almost felt wrong. She managed a nod. “I’ll call you later with details.”

  She smiled. “Sounds like we have a deal.”

  He showed her to the door. “I would’ve walked you out, but—”

  “I understand. Thank you for the job. I’ll see you soon, Mr. Gerardo,” she added with a confident, beaming smile and stepped out.

  “Good day, Ms. Labuschagne.” She heard the smile in his tone as she closed the door behind her. Her own smile felt quite revealing.

 

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