Pearson Empire, was on a street called wall street, along with other sister companies. They all have powerful Influential names that looked like they were pushing too hard to make an impression. The building was like an ancient building from outside, when I got inside the building, I was taken aback by what I saw. The building was gutted and remodeled in a very modern design. Considering one side of things, I could see the beauty in the clean, most modern style. But I was angry that an architecture was paid a huge amount of billionaire dollar to strip away what made this building unique, while in my art studio I work so hard all by myself to create art with real feeling. It was clinical. The environment felt like no one worked here. And I like old buildings too.

In that moment, I decided that Richard Creighton was a asshole.

I made my way to the reception desk, which stood utterly alone in the middle of a dark gray stone ground. The design of the front desk was advanced and fancy looking.

The front desk officer behind the desk sat there typing on a huge black keyboard and at the same time, writing on a notepad. On her ear, she wore a tiny black Bluetooth, which looks like oraimo bluetooth.

She was busy on her desktop that she did not look up at the person starting in front of her for a minute or so. Not surprised. I was clothed in a way that resembled... well, that resembled a carefree rebel stepping out of her hazy, laid-back haven. Dried clays that were breaking off marred my work clothes. As I stood in front of the desk office, little bits of clays were falling off from my clothes to the immaculate floor.

I was not a shame or was I going to pretend to be a perfect wife of Mr Richard Creighton, the type I think he is looking for, and I was glad and more than willing to show it how I was able.

At last, the front desk officer looked at me. Her perfect nose turned up in disgust. She was wearing an expensive a floral corporate blouse and a navy blue corporate pencil pant. Her outfit looked like it belonged in a couture collection, and I think, what she paid for that outfit could cover my rent payment this month.

"Good day Ms, how can I be of help to you?" She asked.

I am going to enjoy this moment. "Yes please," I said. "I am here to meet with Richard Creighton, he is expecting me today," I told her, hoping what I told her will help. But it did not.

She blinked her eyes politely, which made me feel somehow. She looked at me fully and I think she is thinking I was some crazy person who had not taken her drugs for a week. My eyes were on her hands, checking if she will ring the alarm bell on her desk to inform the security to come over to take me away from the building.

"Is he expecting you?" She asked. "Who should I say is here?"

"Okay, Jessica Derrick," I told her.

As I mentioned my name, she started smiling at me.

"Oh it is you!" Her lovely eyes widened with surprise. "Welcome, Ms Derrick, he have been expecting you. I will call up and inform them you are here."

It appeared he had been expecting me all along. That... surprised me. Frankly, what I know about rich and famous men is, they go with their own timing, and everyone else had to deal with it, you are not allowed to give excuses. I love it that, I was not going to wait for him, Or it was nice I did not hear, 'he is in a meeting, you have to come back.'

"Alright, thank you," I told the front desk officer.

She took the phone on her desk and quickly dialled some numbers, while I looked around, searching for somewhere to sit.

" Hello.., yes Jessica Derrick is here to see Mr Richard Creighton," I heard her from where I sat. Someone spoke in a muffled and unclear tone on the other end. "Alright, thanks," she said, and ended the call. She looked at me with a huge smile. "Ms Derrick, he is waiting for you. The last floor, by your right, of course."

"Ohh thank you," I told her again, feeling stupid. I took a walk past the desk and the desk officer, who was just looking at me and smiling ear to ear, and I went to the walkway of imposing elevator doors. The designs looked like an old scifi movie, those movies that are scary about future. I inhaled deeply, pressed the button for door leading up to the top floor, and immediately the doors opened. I walked inside. They door shut behind me, I felt somehow in my stomach as the elevator went upward.

As I was in the elevator, on my way to meet with Mr Richard Creighton, I started feeling nervous, or should I say getting scared. But wait, scared of what, or who? I asked myself. What was I thinking? What was I doing here? This seems crazy. This is not me at all. I should have just throw away the marriage agreement proposal, when I left the coffee shop or I should have tore the contract in front of my father and thrown the pieces at him. What the hell! I would have applied for a loan in one of the banks close to my apartment for my mom's medical bills instead.

Couldn't I? I have not seen anyone who have not borrowed money from the bank and completely paid back the loan. I could do the same! And at that point, I could submit for bankruptcy. It's a win win.

I love this idea, that is exactly what I planned to do. When I get to see this billionaire, I will shout at him for a while, then turn around, go back home and spend all the money I have left. After all, that is exactly what my father did.

As I concluded on the plan I will execute, the elevator stopped and the door opened wide.

The last floor of Richard Creighton building resembled the ground floor, but had different designs. Instead of dark steel and brown stone, up here everything was clear marble and amber gold.

Everything in this building showed of money; from the down floor to the last floor- the leather furniture to the very expensive glass desk to the crystal chandelier hanging close to the entry of the top floor. Can you imagine, chandelier in an office?! Everything here was so fancy that normal people like me would not understand.

Behind the desk was a man, I think he is Richard Creighton executive assistant, he stood up and bowed his head to me. Did he really bow to me... surprising! Maybe the firm had a lot of japanese or Chinese clients or Arab royalty and it became an habit of bowing. The firm was just amazing. I remember vividly my father's old offices was regal magnificence, not clean-lined modernity or resort level fancy like this.

"Hi Ms Derrick," the young man said. "Please call me Kennedy. Mr Richard Creighton is at his office waiting for you. This way please." He pointed to the right, at double doors, which matches another door on the left.

I was nervous, but I acted normal. No no, I was not going to allow him or them whoever I am going to meet to intimidate me. "That is great." I said. His startled expression was deeply satisfying as I walked past him and past through the doors.

Another small waiting room, behind those doors. The design in the waiting room was much simpler than the rooms I entered. It has a big fish tank full of colourful fish and a handful of tranquil fountains placed in the corners and along the walls. Next to me were three large doors made of frosted glass. On one of the doors, there was a small, understated sign that said 'Creighton.'

I paused for a moment, breathed deeply, pushed the door opened and walked through it.

Richard Creighton was behind his table, looking outside, I think admiring the beauty of nature from his window. When I entered his office, he turn to me and watched me as I walked boldly to where he was.