“What took you so long?” She took Serena’s hand and pulled her into the kitchen.
“How did you know I was coming?” Serena stepped into the kitchen then gave the petite woman a quick hug. “Are you psychic or something?”
“No.” Sylvie’s eyes twinkled. “Your dad called. He knew you were going to head right here after the little talk you both had.”
“He told you about that, did he?” Serena pulled out a chair and sat around the kitchen table while Sylvie bustled about doing what she loved best.
Sylvie loved cooking, especially for people who had problems. She'd often told Serena that it was her way of helping. If you came to her with your woes the least she could do was make your stomach happy. Right now she was making a cheese omelet just the way Serena liked it - with lots of onions and green papers wrapped in the middle. She quickly slid the omelet onto a plate and laid it on the table. She poured two glasses of orange juice then pulled out a chair and made herself comfortable beside her granddaughter.
“So. Tell me all about it." Sylvie put her elbow on the table and rested her chin in her palm. Her green eyes sparkled with interest. "Richard gave me his version but I know you're ready to share yours.”
“He practically threw me out of the house, Grandma.” Serena was pouting but she didn't care. She was so angry. “He told me I had to get a job. Can you believe it?” Sylvie chuckled as she popped a piece of egg into her mouth. “Sure I can believe it. You just finished college so the next step would be to use those skills in the working world. Or did I get things wrong?"
“You’re forgetting something. I was supposed to be in Europe a couple of weeks from now.” Serena folded her arms across her chest and frowned. "That was supposed to be one of my graduation presents. You know that. Now I’m going to have to stay here and work for some old geezer." She shook her head. "I don’t understand why he would do this to me.”
“You’ll understand in a while,” Sylvie said as she reached over and patted Serena’s arm. “Now eat something before you wither away. You’re so skinny already.”
“Oh, Grandma.” Serena got up and began to pace the floor. “You just don’t understand. Daddy is trying to sabotage all my plans and I don’t get it. Why does he hate me?”
Sylvie burst out laughing. “You are such a drama queen. You know your father doesn’t hate you. He loves you. Don’t you see that’s why he’s doing this?”
Serena scowled. “This has nothing to do with loving me. If he did he would let me go away like I planned. My best friends are going.”
“Serena.” Sylvie’s voice became serious. “Sit down and let me talk to you.”
Serena knew when to obey. She went back to her chair and waited for the lecture she knew was coming.
“And stop fiddling with your fork.” Sylvie slapped her hand and Serena pulled it back. “Now, young lady, it’s time to wake up and smell the coffee.” Sylvie gave her a stern look. “Your father…and I…have spoiled you rotten. You’re a sweet girl and no one can deny that. But what is also true is that your dad has always given you everything you wanted, and so have I. I agree with Richard. You’re a woman now. We can’t keep treating you like a child.” She reached over to take Serena’s hands in hers. “You have a lot to learn about life, Serena. And remember, you are Richard’s only heir. All your father is trying to do is to get you ready for life. You must understand that.”
Sylvie put her hand under Serena’s chin and lifted it so that their eyes met. “Do you promise me that you'll do what your father asks? Will you do this for me?”
Serena tried to look away but her grandmother’s stare was so intense that she felt transfixed. When Sylvie dropped her hand Serena heaved a sigh of resignation then nodded slowly. “Alright, I'll do it.” Then she set her mouth in a mutinous pout. “But if the old geezer I'm going to work for thinks I'm going to be his new gopher, he'd better think again. And he'd better be nice to me or else he'll wish he'd never met Serena Van Buren."
CHAPTER THREE
As Serena drove along Bay Street she was lost in thought. She was on her way to Steele Industries for her first day at work and she was not looking forward to it. In fact, she was busy thinking of ways to derail her father’s plans to make her a 'working woman'. Yes, she'd promised her grandmother she'd give it a try but she hadn't promised she'd be a model employee. Maybe she could get herself fired on day one. She bit her lip, giving it some thought. Was that a good idea, though? Effective today she would no longer receive a monthly allowance and would need to earn her own money. And she'd have to survive that way for the next six months. She shuddered at the thought. She had never felt so trapped in her life.
She found the place easily enough and pulled off the road and into the parking lot where she slid into the last empty spot. The sign said reserved but right then she didn't have time to be choosy. She reached over for her Hermes handbag then slid out of the SUV, the slim skirt of her Chanel suit making it impossible for her to hop down. She put on her sunglasses then slammed the door and walked briskly toward the main entrance, her stilettos tapping loudly on the pavement.
Serena entered the lobby and for a moment was taken aback by the magnificence of the main entrance. The lobby was huge with a high cathedral ceiling from which a massive chandelier hung. The black marble tiles on the floor glistened and as she looked down she saw herself reflected in their sheen. The walls were covered in the same dark marble but those were accentuated with gold trim. The company logo on the wall and the handles of all the doors were in gold. She had to admit the building was impressive.
She approached the massive receptionist desk and, putting on her most formal tone, she said to the woman sitting there, “Serena Van Buren, here to see Mr. Roman Steele.”