13
Part 13
When I saw Mr. Benson striding towards the living room, for a moment there I thought it was Trent himself walking towards us. Mr. Benson looked like a slightly older version of Trent; the resemblance was so strong, they could actually pass for twins. The same height, same hair and eyes, and the same build, Trent was an exact replica of his father.
“Hello darling,” Mr. Benson said to his wife before kissing her. He then turned to all of us. “And you must be Amanda, I remember you from the dinner the other night. How are you?” He kissed the top of my hand before letting go.
“I’m fine, thank you, Mr. Benson,” I replied shyly. It was a good thing these people remembered me, otherwise this would’ve been uncomfortable for me, I did not do well with new people.
“Dad, how was the meeting?” Trent questioned.
“It was good. People are looking forward to meeting Jordan on Monday,” his father answered.
“Dad! Can you not tell people about me,” Jordan whined, earning a chuckle from his father and brother.
“I’m sorry, son, but you deal with all this sooner or later,” Mr. Benson stated.
“I prefer later,” Jordan grumbled.
“But you’re getting sooner,” Trent said, an amused smile on his face.
Jordan scowled. “Mom. I want dinner,” he stated.
“All right.” Mrs. Benson addressed her husband. “Why don’t you go and wash your face, freshen up a little, I’ll get dinner on the table.”
“Alright darling.” With a smile in my direction, Mr. Benson strode out of the living room.
“All of you go to the dining room, I’ll get dinner out,” Mrs. Benson ordered.
“Would you like me to help you?” I asked.
“No Amanda, thank you. You just go and sit.” Mrs. Benson smiled before walking out of the living room, leaving me staring after her.
“Where is the dining room?” I questioned Jordan.
“This way.” He turned strode towards the left door on the right. Pushing the door open, I saw Jordan vanish inside the room. Taking my hand, Trent followed the path Jordan took and the next thing I knew, I was standing in the dining room.
The size of the dining room shouldn’t have surprised me after I saw the size of the castle in which they lived in, but my jaw dropped when I took in the dining room for the first time. It really looked like something which had been taken straight out of a fairytale movie set. Everything, from the curtains, to the furniture, to the crockery, everything was cute and beautiful at the same time.
“Why do you live in a castle?” I enquired, eyeing Jordan as he pulled out a chair and sat down.
“My dad built this castle for my mom. She was always fascinated with castles and fairytales, and since she was my dad’s queen, he built this castle for her.” It was Trent who told me this.
That was the most sweetest and the most romantic thing I had ever heard. “Oh. So, how come Jordan is your half brother?” I asked, glancing at Jordan who looked ready to dive into the food the moment it arrived.
“My mother past away when I was three. My father remarried, and then had Jordan with my step mom who you met just now,” he replied.
“Oh, I’m so sorry.” It was an utterly stupid thing to say, but I couldn’t stop the words from escaping my lips.
“Don’t be. It’s not your fault, and I was very little when she passed away. I don’t have that many memories of her, but the ones I do have, they are my most treasured ones.”
The fact that he told me this, made me feel something; something which I couldn’t put my finger on; but those words had the all the hostility and hatred which I felt for Trent, vanishing in thin air. I wanted to hug him tightly, and thank him for sharing this with me, but that would be highly inappropriate, so I refrained.
“Well, if she was here right now, I can tell you, she would’ve been one proud mama,” I stated, adding a little jest in my tone to lighten the atmosphere.
Trent chuckled. “Thanks shady.”
“Dinner is here,” Mrs. Benson announced, entering the dining room while holding a steaming dish of rice in her hands.
“Why can’t your mom just have the maids do all this?” I queried.
“Because mom likes cooking and doing anything related to food herself. She does not allow maids to touch the ingrediants or anything. She always cooks by herself,” Trent replied, leading me to the dining table. I pulled out a chair and sat down, while Trent sat down next to me.
“She has spoiled you people,” I muttered, not wanting Mrs. Benson to hear.
“I know. I try my best to come and eat lunch prepared by her as much as possible. The regular meals don’t appeal to me,” he stated.
“You know Amanda, I am going to be your new boss, once Trent leaves,” Jordan chimed in.
My eyes nearly popped out of their sockets at the news. “No way! Seriously?!” I couldn’t believe it. Jordan was going to be new boss. He just graduated from college, would he be able to take the responsibility of running the whole company, even if the company was small?
Jordan nodded. “Yes. You can ask your current boss if you don’t believe me.” He glanced at Trent.
I followed Jordan’s gaze and looked at my boss. Trent nodded, answering my unspoken question. I bit my lip as I thought of Jordan and I working together. Would he be strict or lenient? Would he get along with Madigan, my photographer? A good boss was able to create good employees…at least that was what I thought; and if Jordan was my boss, would he be a good boss and help me prosper or would he bring me and my career crashing down?
“And when were you planning to tell me that?” I demanded to know.
“A week before my flight.” Came his answer.
“And why not before that?” He was about leave me with a new boss and he was only going to tell me that a week before he actually did?!
“Not important,” he replied, picking up the spoon and putting some rice in his plate.
“I beg to differ, it is important,” I argued.
“Alright you two, no need to argue. Amanda, eat something, you need some fat in your body,” Mrs. Benson said, passing me a plate full of fried chicken.
Did she forget I am a model?
Not wanting to seem rude and ungrateful, I placed a piece of fried chicken in my plate before setting the dish aside. Trent eyed my lone piece of chicken with something close to disapproval, before picking up the dish and placing a few more pieces of chicken in my plate.
“Mom is right, you do need some fat in your body,” Trent agreed.
“Did you forget you’re my boss? The boss of a model?” I whispered harshly.
“I did not forget, sleeping beauty. But I do know that you need to eat more,” Trent countered, adding two spoonfuls of rice as well.
I swore under my breath before going back to acting normal, didn’t want Trent’s parents to think I was a short tempered woman, even though I was. So, taking a deep breath, I picked up my knife and fork and set about to eat. But when Mr. Benson entered the dining room, I paused, the fork hanging in mid air.
You are so disrespectful, Amanda. Shame on you!Material © NôvelDrama.Org.
“Oh no. Please don’t stop on my account, please continue eating.” Mr. Benson told me, sitting down at the head of the table.
When I saw Trent and the others eating, I relaxed a little, then proceeded to take the first bite. My eyes closed as I savored the taste, my tastebuds dancing with excitement. The food was simply divine, and I could understand why Trent did not like regular meals. Mrs. Benson knew how to cook, and she had spoiled her family rotten with her food.
“This is delicious, Mrs. Benson,” I complimented her.
Mrs. Benson beamed with happiness, causing her eyes to twinkle. “Thank you so much, Amanda,” she replied.
“You can teach her how to cook, mom,” Jordan stated, resulting in Trent shooting him a glare, to which Jordan only smirked.
“I would love to.” Mrs. Benson smiled.
“Uh, you don’t have to do that, it’s okay,” I replied. I did not think Trent wanted me to do anything with his family, so I better stay out of this. I didn’t know why he brought me here, but I believe he was not happy. So I would try my best to act formal, because according to me, that was what Trent wanted.
“Nonsense. My son will be gone for two years. You can come over and I’ll teach you how to cook; you can even tell me about your day,” she said.
“Really Mrs. Benson, you don’t have to do that.” I wished there was a polite way to say no to her.
“That is a very good idea, mom. I can bring some of the work home while you two gossip and cook at the same time,” Jordan added.
“Yes. That way you won’t be bored, darling.” Mr. Benson joined in, winking at his wife.
I looked at Trent for help, but he was already looking at me. “You know what, this might not be such a bad idea. Mom, if you teach Amanda how to cook, can you please focus on her diet, she is too weak,” Trent said.
Oh fuck me! He did not just say that!
But he did, and I was staring at him incredulously. What in the world was wrong with this man?! First he acted like he was not happy with me being here, and next he was making diet plans with his mom for me. Trent’s sudden change in behaviors were making my head spin. Did he hate me? Did he not hate me? Why couldn’t he give me a clear signal? Why did he have to make my heart flutter with happiness one moment and drum with fury the next?
“So that is settled then. Amanda, I am going to teach you how to cook,” Mrs. Benson announced, sealing my fate with her words.
Oh fuck!
~*~*~*~*
Days blended into weeks, and before I knew it, the day of the magazine launch had arrived. I was so excited to see myself in a magazine. I wasn’t sure if I would make the front cover or not, but being in the magazine was more than enough. I wondered what Trent would say about my pictures.
That morning, I woke up extra early, got ready in fifteen minutes, and headed to the studio. When I arrived, it was Madigan who greeted me, waving the magazine in my face.
“Look what’s here! It just arrived!” She told me, grinning.
“How do I look? How do I look?” I asked, eyeing the magazine with excitement. My picture was not on the front cover, but that did not lessen my happiness.
“Let’s see together, because I did not open it yet,” Madigan replied.
“Well what are you waiting for? Open it!” Taking the magazine from her, I flipped it open.
I turned one page after the other, the length of my smile decreasing after every turn. I saw one beautiful model after the other, but I did not see myself. There were no pictures of me, none at all. When I reached the end of the magazine, my smile had successfully turned into a frown. Not believing this could be possible, I flipped through the magazine again. But my eyes were not deceiving me, there really were no pictures of me.
“Where are your pictures, Amanda?” Madi asked.
“I don’t know. They should be here, right? Are you sure this is the right magazine?” I enquired.
“Yes, this is the magazine. And these are the photographs of the models which were taken last month,” she responded.
“So then, where are my pictures?” I questioned.
“I don’t know. Maybe there has been a mistake. Why don’t you talk to Trent about this?” She suggested.
“You’re bloody right I will.” I gritted.
Flipping the magazine shut, I marched over to Trent’s office and without knocking, barged inside. Trent was sitting behind his desk, shutting his laptop. When he saw me, he did a double take.
“Ms. Lawson, is there something you wish to discuss with me?” He asked.
“You’re right I do.” I slammed the magazine on the table, glaring at him. “What the hell is this?!” I demanded.
Trent arched an eyebrow. “I believe this is a magazins Ms. Lawson,” he replied.
“Why are my pictures not in there?” I asked.
“You should know that answer to that, Ms. Lawson,” he stated.
I frowned. “What do you mean by that?”
He shrugged before standing up and coming around to stand in front of me. “The reason your pictures are not in that magazine is, because I don’t think they were suitable for the magazine,” he said.
“What do you mean not suitable?” What was he talking about?
“Have you seen the photographs? Have you seen how perfect those women are?” He asked me.
“Ar-Are you saying that my photographs were not perfect?” He could not be saying that.
“That is exactly what I’m saying,” he stated.
“What’s wrong with them? And you could’ve helped me. You could’ve made me pose better!” I exclaimed, tears burning my eyes. I worked so hard, and it all went to waste. I twisted every muscle in my body for this, and no one would know how hard I worked. The pain that I felt upon that realization was beyond excruciating.
“You need to work on yourself, Amanda. I do not just approve any photograph. I only approve the best for my magazine. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have a plane to catch.” Trent told me.
An errant tear fell from my eye, but I wiped it away. “You-You’re leaving?!” He could not do this to me. He could not!
Trent nodded. “Yes. I have to leave for two years.”
I wanted to lash out; punch him, kick him, beat him until he agreed to put my pictures in the magazine, but the pain rendered me useless-incapable of uttering a syllable.
“But one thing before I go,” Trent said before cupping my cheeks with his hands, and softly pressing his lips to mine. I was too shocked to do anything, the pain not helping me; resulting in Trent kissing me without any problem.
When he pulled away, there was a strange gleam in his eyes. “See you after two years, bumblebee.”