Free Blind Girl: A Dark Billionaire Romance by Tabatha Kiss Page B

“I’m not sure…” I say.
    Harvey gives me an understanding nod. “Take your time,” he says. “I have some errands to run for Mr. Kent. Call me if you need a ride back to the university.”
    I smile at him. “I will.”
    “And Ms. Hughes—” he adds, “you look very lovely today.”
    I feel my cheeks turn pink. “Thank you, Harvey.”
    He nods again and walks back around to the driver’s seat.
    I take a deep breath to calm my nerves and glance up into the sky. It’s a building I’ve passed by almost a hundred times, but today is the first time I’ve really noticed it. The tall concrete is a different shade than all other buildings around it, most likely done on purpose to make it stand out next to the rest. At ten stories tall, it’s shorter than its neighboring buildings, but it doesn’t suffer from it. The Kent Insurance Corporation logo stands dominantly above, staring down at me like a hungry giant, eager to squash me with his heel as I step inside. I repeat Gabby’s words in my head like a mantra to drive me forward.
    If you want to be treated like a queen, you have to demand it.
    A young receptionist greets me with a rehearsed smile.
    “Mr. Kent’s office is on the top floor, ma’am,” she tells me. I look her over and quickly realize we both sport similar appearances. Brown hair, brown eyes. Pale, white skin. I brush it off as coincidence and maintain my stiff posture.
    “Thank you,” I tell her before making my way over to the elevator.
    I share the ride with a group of businessmen, many of whom I catch sneaking peeks at me through the mirrored walls of the elevator. It sends fresh blood through my veins and I step off onto the top floor with a new confidence.
    The reception desk sits immediately upon entry and the rest of the floor is blocked off by electronically locked glass doors. A young woman sits at the front desk. Once again, she’s young, not much older than me, with brown hair and brown eyes nearly identical to my own. My knees quiver as I walk up to her.
    “Can I help you?” she asks as hover above the desk.
    My heart races and I clear my throat. “I would like to see Charles Kent,” I tell her, keeping my voice steady.
    “Do you have an appointment?”
    “No,” I answer.
    She flashes a stiff smile at me. “Mr. Kent is a very busy man. If you don’t have an appointment, there’s not much I can do for you.”
    Demand it.
    “Tell him I’m here and see what he says?” I ask. “I’m a close friend.”
    “What’s your name?” she asks, attempting, and failing, to hide her annoyance with me.
    “Alice Hughes.”
    “Have a seat. I’ll let you know if he answers.”
    “Thank you.” I wander over to the blue sofa next to the door and sit down, but I keep my foot bouncing away. My heel taps against the linoleum floor, a gentle metronome to steady me, but I don’t want to become too calm. I want my heart to keep racing, pushing my nerves to their breaking point.
    A business man steps off the elevator. He doesn’t lower his stride as he makes his way around the front desk. The receptionist reaches under the desk and taps a button that makes the door unlock. The man gives her a nod and passes through the door without saying a word to her.
    After a few moments of typing away at her keyboard, the receptionist finally picks up the phone. I train my ears to listen in, although she goes to great lengths to keep her voice low.
    “There’s a young woman here to see you, sir,” she says. “Alice Hughes.”
    I keep my eyes trained on the floor. It takes everything I have not to look up and appear too anxious.
    “Yes, sir.” I hear the phone click back into place. “Ms. Hughes.”
    “Yes?” I look up.
    “Mr. Kent will see you,” she says. “His office is the last door at the end of the hallway.”
    “Thank you.”
    She reaches under the desk and taps the button again to unlock the door. I step forward to pull it open and the laughter of men fills my ears before I