06- Meeting Adjourned

I stepped out of Hailey's car and gazed up at the towering glass building before me in awe. The sunlight danced across its sleek exterior, casting a kaleidoscope of reflections that made it shimmer like a giant crystal.

I felt tiny and awestruck, my neck craned back to take it all in. "Holy moly!" I breathed, my eyes fixed on the building. Mr. Reynolds hadn't exaggerated when he claimed to be a billionaire; the building was even more impressive than I'd imagined.

'Huge' felt like an understatement – 'mighty' truly captured its essence. I pushed through the revolving doors and was immediately enveloped by an air of sophistication.

The air was thick with the scent of expensive cologne, and the sound of muted conversation. The lobby was impressive, with polished marble floors that gleamed under the bright lights and modern art pieces that seemed to jump off the walls.

I recognized a few of the artists, and my eyes widened in surprise. Meanwhile, suited guards stood at attention, their eyes scanning the room with practiced vigilance. Mr. Reynolds had impeccable taste, and so did the people in the building.

I approached the receptionist, my palms slightly sweaty as I neared her desk. I am Alessia Maxwell, I reminded myself. I can do this.

The receptionist smiled, but her professionalism reminded me of the stakes involved. "Good morning," I greeted her, trying to sound confident. "Good morning, ma'am," she replied politely.

"May I see your ID?" I dipped my hand into my purse and brought out my ID, silently hoping she wouldn't notice my sweaty palm.

The receptionist returned my ID to me, and asked, "Who are you here to see, ma'am?" Shit! I felt so foolish. I should have anticipated that a prestigious company like this would have stringent security measures and thousands of staff.

"What was I supposed to say? God, this was mortifying. "I'm here to see Mr. Trevor Reynolds," I managed to say, hoping that counted for something. "I don't have an appointment, but he gave me his business card."

I clutched the business card in my hand, the embossed name "T.V. Reynolds" glinting under the bright lights. The receptionist looked up, her expression professional.

"May I see the business card, please?" I handed it over, watching her examine it. "I see," she said, glancing back at me.

"While Mr. Reynolds does have an open-door policy, we still need to confirm his availability. Since he gave you his black card, I can inform his secretary of your presence immediately, as the cards are reserved for important persons. Can I have your name, once more?"

"It's Alessia Maxwell," I replied, feeling a mix of hope and anxiety. "Ally for short." She typed my name into her computer, fingers moving swiftly.

"Please hold on for a moment while I check if he's free," she said. As I waited, I couldn't help but feel a sense of disappointment. I had been so sure that Trevor would see me.

Maybe he was right. I do think too much of myself. After a brief pause, the receptionist looked back at me. "It appears Mr. Reynolds is currently in a meeting. Do you have any specific reason for your visit? Perhaps I can assist you in another way." I bit my lip, trying to gather my thoughts. Trevor Reynolds was a busy man, after all.

But still, I couldn't shake the feeling that he should have informed the woman in front of me. "It's a private matter," I said finally. "But if it was important, he would have informed you. So, will he be free in, let's say, two hours?" I asked, trying to sound calm.

The receptionist's expression was sympathetic. "No, ma'am," she said. "But without a scheduled appointment, I can't guarantee he'll be able to meet with you today. Would you like to leave a message or schedule a time for later?" I nodded, feeling a pang of disappointment. "I guess I can leave a message," I said, trying to hide my frustration.

"I appreciate your assistance!" I said and turned to leave. The receptionist's sympathetic expression lingered in my mind.

Meanwhile, my thoughts began to swirl with frustration. What was I thinking, showing up unannounced? I trekked to the bus stop, a taxi being a luxury I couldn't afford at the moment.

During the bus ride, my mind wandered back to Trevor. Was it just about the car debt, or was there something more? Was Hailey right?

The bus ride was a blur. I stared out the window, watching the city pass by in a haze of concrete and steel.

Here is the revised text with the changes we made:

The bus came to a stop, and the doors opened with a hiss. Crisp air hit me like a wake-up call, snapping me out of my daze. As I stepped off, the smells of exhaust fumes, greasy food, and trash filled my lungs, a familiar yet unwelcome smell.

My feet moved on autopilot as I walked, trying to untangle the knot of emotions in my chest. The city lights blurred together, failing to penetrate my foggy mind. However, the more I walked, the more I realized I wasn't getting any closer to understanding why I felt so off.

My thoughts circled back to Trevor, his chiseled features and piercing eyes etched in my mind like a persistent ghost. Was it just my pride that still stung from his apparent indifference?

I shook my head, trying to clear the fog. I had real problems to worry about, like Mom's health and our dwindling bank account. Trevor Reynolds was just a billionaire with a pretty face and a charming smile. He wasn't worth my time or energy.

But the memory of him lingered, refusing to be dismissed. There was something about Trevor that got under my skin.

Just then, I arrived at my apartment and was surprised to see a sleek black car parked outside. A driver in a crisp suit stepped out and approached me, his eyes scanning the surroundings with caution.

"Miss Maxwell?" he asked, his voice formal. I nodded, my curiosity piqued. He handed me a small package. "From Mr. Reynolds," he said, before turning and walking back to the car.

I watched as the car drove away, with only one thought in my mind: What did Trevor want now? I kicked off my shoes and dropped my purse on the floor as I stepped into my apartment, consumed by exhaustion and curiosity.

Next, I made my way to the couch, package in hand, and eagerly tore off the wrapping paper. As I lifted the lid, my eyes widened in shock. Inside, I found a tailored red blazer and flared pants, perfectly matched with a pair of black Christian Louboutin pumps with distinctive red soles. A small, black Hermès mini bag was nestled beside them, its iconic logo gleaming on the fabric.

I felt like I'd been punched in the gut; my breath caught. No one – no one – had ever given me anything so luxurious, so extravagant. I felt like I was dreaming, like this was all some crazy, wonderful mistake. I'd never even held a designer handbag before, let alone owned one.

For a moment, I just stared at the gift, my mind reeling with questions. Why was Trevor doing this? What did he want from me? Then, my gaze fell upon a small card tucked alongside the outfit. I pulled it out, my fingers tracing the edges of the silk-finish paper, which bore the imprint of a customized wax stamp – a stylized 'R' in elegant, cursive script.

The paper felt luxurious to the touch, its weight substantial in my hand. As I unfolded the card, the scent of fine paper and ink wafted up, and I read the message:

"Alessia, you disappointed me. I expected a woman with your spirit to be more... unrelenting in her pursuit. More willing to take risks and challenge the status quo. Where's the fire that fueled your defiance when we first met?"

My eyes narrowed as I read the words, feeling a spark of irritation ignite within me. Who did Trevor think he was, anyway? The excitement from the gift flew out the window, leaving me empty and confused.

I slumped back against the couch, the luxurious outfit and expensive shoes suddenly feeling like a complete joke. What role had he had in mind for me? And why was he being so cryptic? I crumpled the card, the paper crackling with my frustration.

My emotions were in turmoil, a jumble of shock, gratitude, and anger. Trevor's words had struck a nerve, and a growing bitterness simmered inside me.