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Chapter 5
Harlow
LaurenKing’sofficewas marble white and grey. That’s it. Just a shit ton of marble. The floors were so shiny that I could make out my pathetic, sad reflection. Her office minions were all dressed like they were created in the same robot factory – pin stripped skirts, blouses, three piece suits. They all looked so composed and together, so perfect. So when I walked in with my scruffy jeans, old blue converse and an extra baggy hoodie to hide my insecurities, they glared at me with pity and disgust.
The receptionist looked up at me as I approached. Her cold stare, tight bun and fake sneer reminded me of Lisa. She tapped her long blood red nails on her desk as she looked at me expectedly.
“Miss Harlow Falls, correct?” she drew out, her tongue clicking at the end of her rhetorical question.
I resisted the urge to snap at her, my jaw aching from the clench I currently held.
“Yes...” I muttered.
Her perfectly manicured eyebrow raised in superiority as she pressed a button on her phone. She smiled at me, but there was nothing warm or inviting about it.
”Ms. King, Harlow Falls to see you. Ah huh, yes I’ll do so.”
She placed the phone on the receiver and looked at me condescendingly. “Take a seat, Ms. King will be with you momentarily,” she pointed out to a collection of stainless steel singular chairs which looked like they belonged in a surgical theater instead of an office.
My shoes made little squeaking noises on the floor as I trudged over to the chairs. I resisted the urge to jump at the cold texture, despite the fact I was wearing jeans. But then again there was nothing warm about this place.
I tried to look for little flaws, like Dr. Thomas’ office, but found none. This made me extremely uncomfortable.
Directly in front of me in bold red and black letters hung a neon sign that said ‘King & Hall Bankrupt Trustees’. My eyes shifted over the last two words, wondering how the fuck I got into this state of disrepair.
My thoughts were interrupted when the classic clicking of stilettos echoed on the marble floors. I looked up to find Lauren King watching me with a guarded expression. Her dark blonde hair was pulled back into a tight high bun, her long legs encased in her pencil skirt and even beneath the tight clothes, I knew she had a stunning figure.
I bet she didn’t even have an ounce of cellulite. As opposed to Bonnie and Clyde who comfortably jiggled every chance they got.
Subconsciously I pulled my hoodie tighter across my body as I stood to meet Lauren.
“Harlow,” she all but purred, her light eyes looking amused at my obvious discomfort, “please come on through.”
I followed her down the familiar hallway, the photographic paintings on the walls looking way too photoshopped. Beaches, buildings, traffic – the pictures, even with all their chaos, still felt like they were mocking me, making me feel inferior as I turned into the white office that I was sadly not a stranger to.
Lauren sat in her cushy leather chair, her hands together on the desk as she waited for me to get comfortable. Fat chance that would happen, but proceed, witch.
“I’ll get right to the point, darling. We haven’t received your latest payment and unfortunately my clients are getting edgy. I’m sorry to do this but if you aren’t able to secure the funds within the week, we have obtained a court order to sell your company shares. But the good news is the cost of doing so should clear your debt.”
Horror etched across my face as I did my best to hide my reaction. It was pointless though, I was never good at hiding my emotions. All my friends wanted to play poker with me because it was an easy bet that I’d lose.
“You can’t sell them. They were my dad’s. It’s all I have left of him. It’s his legacy.”
Lauren tilted her head in what I assumed was meant to be a sympathetic gesture. “I know, darling. But the board cannot wait any longer. They need security and a strong shareholder, particularly since the shares are a majority vote. You just aren’t in a suitable position to hold them.”
I shook my head with exasperation. “I just don’t get it. How can I legally be held responsible for this debt? It’s not even mine!”
“Like I’ve said before, Harlow. You’re a guarantor on the loans. I know it’s a shock because of how much debt your mother accumulated but-”
“Bullshit!” I snapped, my frustration overwhelming me, “I didn’t sign anything. I’ve told you this before.”
Her ruby red lips smacked shut as she typed something on her computer. When she was finished, she turned back to me with a small shrug.
“I’m sorry, Harlow. My hands are tied. You have one week.”
