Chapter 11

*Two weeks later*

Miranda's black heels struck the white marble floor, clicking and clacking as she walked out of the Department of Public Relations of Devin Construction. Another day of work over.

Miranda walked past some of the giant mirrors in the lobby and saw a smile on her face. She giggled and turned away. Was this what it felt like? Happiness and fulfilment.

Like a warm spring had burst out in her heart, flooding her with warmth, joy, and contentment.

She was happy. For the first time in her 24 years of life, Miranda was truly happy. Was it the job that made her happy? The fact that she had been given a house and a car? Or was it her co-workers who were efficient, hardworking, and very polite?

Or was it Matthew Devin?

Perhaps it was a collection of all those things. All that mattered was the joy that had settled under her chest; the fuzzy feeling that consumed her whenever she woke up or laid down.

She was happy.

With a bounce in her step, Miranda entered the elevator, intending to head to the underground car park. As she gazed at the row of buttons, however, she had a slight inkling to head elsewhere. To the very top of the building, where the CEO's office was located.

Of course, there was no direct elevator ride to the top. She would have to stop at the forty-eight storey, undergo a security check before she was allowed to board a separate elevator for the next two storeys. And that was only if she had an appointment.

Which she did not have.

Still, she wanted to see him and inform him of how her first week went. Taking the plunge, she depressed the button for the forty-eight storey and watched as the doors closed slowly. They opened a few minutes later.

Miranda smoothed the front of her white silk shirt and blew out a breath. She walked out of the elevator and into the lobby.

She looked left and right, confused about which way to go. Doors were leading off both sides of the lobby. From the labels at the top of the doors on the left side of the hallway, it seemed like the rooms were offices and conference rooms.

On the left, she saw a wide reception desk with different computer stations. Two receptionists were typing away behind the computer. Better head that way then. She moved away from the elevator area and toward the desk.

As she approached, the two men raised their heads and took a look at her. One glance at her face, they both shot up from their seats, their faces showing shock and then, determination.

One of the receptionists walked around the desk and put a hand out to block her way. "I'm sorry, miss, but you cannot pass this point."

The solemnity in his voice made Miranda pause, bewildered. She tried to explain herself. "I don't mean any trouble. I just want to see Mr. Devin."

That only made them even tenser. The second receptionist joined his partner as if to provide backup. "Do you have an appointment? What is your reason for being here?"

Now frightened, Miranda stepped back and shook her head. "I don't have an appointment. Maybe if you ask him, he will see me. I don't know. I just…"

They looked at each other and seemed to conclude. "What is your name?"

"Miranda Dunne."

The second receptionist walked back to the desk and placed a call. A few seconds later, he returned with a stunned look on his face.

"The CEO will see you. You can go up."

His partner's mouth dropped open for a moment but he recovered himself and led her to where she was searched and typed in the code for the elevator for her. Miranda thanked him and locked her hands in front of her.

The behaviour of the receptionists unnerved her. it was obvious someone of her kind was not supposed to be here. Should she leave? But Mr. Devin was already expecting her. What to do?

Before she could solve her internal dilemma, the elevator doors closed and she was carried to the topmost floor of the building. The doors opened and revealed a layout similar to the floor she had just left. The major difference was that unlike the previous floor that had numerous doors, there were just four doors on the entire floor.

There was a reception desk as well but only one station on it. The receptionist saw her and stood. He seemed surprised but quickly schooled his expression.

"Good day, miss."

"Good day."

"Were you cleared downstairs?"

"Yes, I was."

"I see. Do you have an appointment?"

"No, but a call was placed to Mr. Devin below and he said that he would see me."

The receptionist's brow shot up, astonishment clear on his face. It took him a while to recover but in time, he coughed and gathered his composure. "Well, of course. This way." He led her to the door on the farthest right and knocked on it. "Go right ahead."

"Thank you." She exhaled and turned the knob.

Even if before she entered the office, she did not know who owned it, the moment she stepped into it, she would have accurately guessed that it was Matthew's office. It was tastefully designed. The shiny aluminum window frame and the blue-tinted glass they held allowed the dazzling setting sun's rays to filter through.

The left side of the office was obviously reserved for guests of a more causal category, being fitted with gray couches with white, fluffy cushions. The right side seemed to be for holding meetings as it looked more serious with a long black glass table surrounded by black chairs.

At the centre of the room stood a large mahogany table. One wide monitor stood at the edge of the table while a laptop sat closed in the middle.

Despite the sheer size of the office and the numerous articles present, something stood out the moment you stepped foot in it.

Simplicity and elegance. It was his style speaking through the furnishings, the arrangement, and the paintings that hung on the wall. Simple and elegant.

The owner of the room himself, sat on the large central desk of the office, legs crossed sophisticatedly at the knee. He was dressed smartly in a dark brown three-piece suit, every thread on the suit announcing the affluence of the wearer.

He regarded her and as she had some weeks ago, she felt herself being X-Rayed by that gaze. Those very dark eyes. They prodded her, poked her, leaned on her to give up her secrets.

Miranda had known Matthew Devin for roughly three weeks now. Although he had invited her for dinner on two occasions, offered her a job, and saved her from being raped, Matthew sometimes had a suspicious look in his eyes when he looked at her.

Like he was waiting for her to do something wrong, something to prove him right. She didn't know what it was but she never wanted to lose the semblance of trust he had in her.

"Good evening, Mr. Devin."

"Good evening, Miranda," he said, dropping to his feet. He leaned back against the desk and folded his arms. "What brings you here?"

"Nothing much. I just… It's a Friday. The week has ended, so I thought I'd come…see you…like…before the weekend." Nice, she had killed it. What an eloquent and fluent delivery. Clearing her throat, she tried once more. "I just wanted to greet you before I left for the weekend. That's all."

Matthew arched a brow. "Oh, really."

She tugged on a piece of her hair, staring at her shoes. He was definitely angry with her. "Yes, I'm sorry if I interrupted you or anything."

"It's fine. You didn't interrupt me," he replied, not sounding angry.

She looked up at him to see if he was truly angry and was met with the closest thing to a smile she had seen on his face. And while it was not exactly a smile, she could tell that he was pleased. Strange. Had something happened before she entered the room?

"Would you like something to drink?"

Miranda blinked and fought the urge to look behind her. Was he talking to her? "Well…I would?"

Matthew cocked his head at her answer. "Are you asking me if you would?"

"No, I'm…" She blushed and looked away. "I would. I would like a drink."

Matthew curved around the desk and sat on the tall black chair. He reached under the table on his right and dug through. He placed two cans of coke and a small packet of cake on the table and raised his head to gaze at her. "Is cola fine?"

She blushed and nodded. "It's fine."

Matthew picked up the items and gestured to the gray couches. "Take a seat." He placed the cans on the low wooden table, pushing one and the cake towards her.

She picked it up and opened it with a pop. Her cheeks flamed as she brought the can to her lips. The two times he had taken her out to dinner, both at high-end restaurants, she had ordered a coke. And now, here in this expensive-looking office, she was being offered coke as well.

He probably thought she was addicted to the drink. She glanced at the desk where he had fished the drink out from. The drink was cool in her hands so she guessed that he had a mini-refrigerator under that massive desk.

I wonder what he offered his other guests, she whispered internally.

"How was your first week?" Matthew said, picking up his can and taking a sip.

Miranda wrapped her hand around the can, staring at the droplets of water as they gathered around her fingers. "It was good. The employees are very dedicated and efficient. I'm learning a lot."

"The PR department, am I right?"

"Yes. That's where I am."

"Your training period will be for three months. After which, you'll become a full-fledged member of the company. You have to work hard."

Miranda gripped the can tighter. "I will. I will work hard. I won't abuse your trust."

Matthew smiled oh-so-slightly. "Let me know if you need anything."

"Thank you, sir."

As was becoming their custom, they sat in relaxed silence, sipping the bubbly cool cola. Miranda just timidly opened the sachet of cake when a knock on the door disturbed the quiet and Matthew called out. "Come in."

A short, small, and jolly-looking middle-aged woman stepped into the room. Matthew rose, Miranda following suit, and strode to the woman. He wrapped a long arm around her.

For the first time since she met him, Miranda saw Matthew Devin smile a full, bright smile. She was staggered by the joy he radiated. It was obvious to the blind that he deeply cherished the small woman. She watched in awe as they spoke, laughing, and jesting.

Wow, what a change. The Matthew Devin she knew, the one who always seemed to have his emotions and reactions in check, the one who never reacted in excess was the one flagrantly displaying emotion in such a manner.

Wow. Just wow.

She would have continued staring at the duo if the woman had not turned to her and smiled politely. Miranda watched as the woman separated herself from the larger man and walked to the area where she stood.

Over the petite woman's shoulder, Miranda could see Matthew's expression change, becoming more solemn and firm. And she mourned the loss. He looked so young and…she daresay…cute.

The woman arrived in front of her and Miranda herself was not particularly tall but she still had to look down at the woman.

"Hello, it's nice to meet you. My name is Samantha Devin," the woman said in a light, airy voice. The very opposite of Matthew's. Wait…. Devin? Was she…?

Samantha answered her unspoken question. "Matthew's mother."

Miranda, hoping there were no soda stains on her mouth, extended a hand. "It's nice to meet you."

Samantha Devin shook the hand and smiled at her. "What's your name?"

"Miranda Dunne."

"Miranda," she smiled, "that's a very lovely name."

Not really but… "Thank you, ma'am."

Samantha waved off the title. "Call me Samantha."

Miranda blushed and shook her head. "I-I can't." The mother of her CEO? Miranda could never. "I really can't."

Samantha placed a hand on Miranda's upper arm and smiled brightly. "Sure, you can. Samantha. I really don't mind."

Miranda looked to her employer for a little help and fortunately, he rescued her.

"Mom, let her be. She's a new employee."

Samantha glanced at the opened cans of coke and cake lying on the table and a pensive look entered into her eyes. "Oh, really." She looked up at Miranda once more, studying her. "How are you finding the company?"

"Very fine, ma'am. Mr. Devin has been very kind to me."

"Well, I hope so. If he hasn't, that'll make a bad mother now."

Miranda chuckled lightly, feeling a little awkward. She was talking to the mother of her CEO. Her mind ran dry and things to say disappeared at an alarming rate until she was a ball of nervousness.

Samantha Devin only worsened the situation by saying: "So Miranda, would you like to have dinner with us sometime next week?"