– AARON –
How dare he? I could have taken my private jet and comfortably traveled to Los Angeles, but I didn't. I made an exception today for Franklin Desmy. If it wasn't for the deal I desperately wanted, I wouldn't have bothered to step inside New York's briskest airport. The old man had said he wanted to fly together, as he wanted to make a bond first. A load of bullshit. He refused my offer to fly in my private jet which was much better than here, but Franklin Desmy wanted to have some 'fun' and since I wanted the deal, I had to agree.
Now, I was stuck here, in the NY terminal with people ogling me as if I was an alien– a rare specimen they have never seen before. Annoyance made its way into my brain nerves. I checked the timing on my watch. He was late. Ten minutes late.
"Any updates?" I inquired Holden, my secretary. He made a call to Franklin's secretary again— twice— but the answer was the same. They were stuck in the traffic. I grunted low, shoving my hands inside my pants pockets. This was why I hated crowds.
"Check the traffic situation. If they are truly stuck in the traffic we will wait for another ten minutes, but if they aren't" I affirmed, "I'll make sure the Desmy Groups suffer." I wasn't fooling. I never did. Not when it came to work, or bringing my enemy to their knees. If Franklin Desmy wanted to play with me, he was making a big mistake. I had intended to play it nice and safe, but it looked like the old man doesn't like my nice treatment.
The stares of the people irked me more and when I glared at one of them, they ran away. "I'm going to the restroom. Notify me if you have any updates" I told Holden. He bobbed, straightening his round glasses.
Freeing a button on my blazer, I made my way to the restroom. Thankfully, the restroom was empty but the hygiene here wasn't up to par. Everything looked cheap. Be it the sanitizer and handwash, tissue paper roller, and for Christ's sake, the smell was nauseating. I changed my decision and washed my hands instead. My kidneys won't expire if I won't pee.
At that moment, the door pushed in and a kid entered. Usually, I wouldn't care about people passing by me or spare them a second long glance because it wasn't worth it, but this kid… Average height, clear blue eyes, hair as black as coal, and a face that reminded me of…. I halted. Fucking hell. No way. I met the kid's eyes who seemed to be assessing me as well and cursed at myself for letting the thought occur that he resembled me in an odd way.
The kid, dressed in a sky blue t-shirt and khaki knee shorts, took a step towards me. His eyebrows slightly drew in and he pouted, offering me a look. I cocked an eyebrow at him, amused by the way he was examining me.
"Do you want something, kid?" I asked. He blinked and took a moment to think but instead of saying anything, he shook his head once.
He finally let his gaze somewhere else and went to pee. I smiled to myself, drying my hands with my handkerchief.
I didn't know why I was still there, wiping my hands for two minutes long. The smell was intolerable but I was still there, my eyes averting at the kid who was now coming towards the sink to wash his hands. His height wouldn't reach and I made a mental note to discuss this with the one who designed it.
From the corner of my eyes, I watched as he tried to reach the faucet but failed. My hands itched seeing him failing again and again and I couldn't hold it back. I didn't say anything. I lift him, making him gasp a little, and helped him. He didn't say anything either as he turned on the faucet, applied handwash, and washed his hands. When he was done, I put him down.
"Thank you," he mumbled. I would have wondered if he was mute if not for him saying anything.
I gave a short nod, in a way saying 'welcome'. The kid stared at me again. "Is there something on my face?" He barely reached my waist and I had to crane my neck to make eye contact with him.
"mm… No. I was figuring something."
Regaled, I asked, "And what is that?"
He kept his chin high and articulated, "I don't share my thoughts with strangers." He was probably six or seven years old, but his way of speaking amused me.
"Well, Kid. You were staring at me without my permission. It is only right I ask for the reason" I made a point which sounded absurd but whatever.
"Do you ask everyone who stares at you?" he retorted, crossing his arms in front of his chest.
I smirked, "I'm making exceptions today."
He opened his smart mouth to utter but an unfamiliar ping had his attention. He reached for his phone from his shorts pocket and gazed at the screen. Two seconds later, he typed something quickly and turned his phone off.
"What's your age?" I couldn't help but ask. Something about this kid was unsettling. Keeping that poised expression, he uttered, "It is very rude to ask someone about their age, Mister." I laughed under my breath, taken away by his wittiness.
"My bad."
"Do you live here?" he questioned innocently. I smirked and crouched to match his height.
"It is rude to ask someone about their address" I repeated his words to which he rolled his eyes. I tilted my head, "If I answer your question, will you answer mine?"
He shrugged. Brat. "You are–"I was cut in the middle when my secretary burst in, shoving the door way too hard. I frowned, perplexed as to why the hell he was out of breath.
"Sir, Franklin's secretary called me and said—" his gaze fell on the kid and his eyes widened in shock. Did he know him? The kid's expression was neutral so the chances were nil. His shocked eyes bounced between me and the kid.
"What is it, Holden?" I asked firmly.
"Oh my God! He l-looks just like you, Sir!" Of all the possible words, those weren't the ones I have reckoned. The kid scowled at him, his lips drawn in a thin line. Even a seven-year-old was annoyed by him.
"Stop spouting nonsense."
"Sir, you don't see it? Tell me, is he related to you somehow?" he piped, appearing excited.
"No, Holden. There is no relation between us" I pressed on the word No, hoping he would stop spouting shit.
"You are not?" He was surprised. What the heck?
"We have spent too much time in here so we better move, shall we, Holden?" He must have detected the edge in my tone because he nodded and exited the restroom. Sparing one last glance at the kid, I walked out."They will be here in five minutes" Holden reported as we waited in the VIP waiting room. I rose from the maroon couch, buttoned up my blazer, and verbalized, "Good. Let's get going."
"Sir, I don't think you should pamper him by personally going to pick him," Holden let out honestly.
I sneered, turning back. "Who said I am going to greet him? We are done here. Let's head back to the company."