Innocent
English Literature student Annie Mallard would rather be reading Austen than
dating, until she meets enigmatic and troubled billionaire Cullen Grey. They
share an instant, electric connection, but Grey is a troubled man, tormented by
dark secrets. Can Annie’s love heal the deep wounds of his past?
I
check
my hair in the mirror. Because I went to bed with wet hair, I now can’t style
it how I want to. My hair, not the bed. I put my hair in a ponytail instead. I have really
big blue eyes and soft, wavy brown hair. No
one ever fancies me, I am so skinny and unattractive. This is the most amount of times anyone has used the word ‘hair’ in
one paragraph, ever.
I am
getting ready to interview this multi-billionaire business man for the student
newspaper. My friend Karen Cartwright was supposed to go, but she has VERY bad flu, so she
is sending me instead. There is no-one
else on the student newspaper that can go in Karen’s place. Karen is so selfish.
I have
final exams to cram for, one essay to finish and I’m supposed to be working
this afternoon. I am going to make Karen feel really bad about this for the
next 3 chapters because she’s so selfish.
I don’t
bother reading anything about the mysterious CEO of Grey & Co Industries Incorporation LTD. I don’t have a…you know…the flip screen
thingy, like a phone, but bigger. You
know, with the square letters on it and the tiny filing cabinets inside. I
can’t remember what they’re called and I don’t have the time to try and remember
now. I once asked Karen what the ‘internet’ was and she laughed for ages and
then said, ‘Oh, Annie, you’re so funny!’ but she still hasn’t told me what the
internet is.
Karen
is so annoying when she’s ill, but I also sort of think I might love her
because she’s really sexy and pretty. I am 21 years old and I have never had a
crush on a man. I bet my gothic romance novel heroines did not have to worry
that they might lesbians.
THERE’S NOT MUCH TRAFFIC when I
set off. Because my car is an unreliable
death trap that’s held together with rust and hope, Karen has let me borrow her
car. She’s so selfish, she could just buy
me a new car. Her family are loaded.
Grey
Towers is like, this really, really tall building and it has lots of glass
windows. I have always wondered how they make buildings that tall without them
falling down, I mean, just look at Jenga. Now imagine an enormous Jenga made of
glass and steel that doesn’t fall down. Doesn’t
that blow your mind? This brick, glass,
steel and concrete building edifice is twenty storeys high. I know, because I
stood outside and counted them all.
There’s
this really tedious exchange with the receptionist because I’m not Karen. The
receptionist is blonde and quite pretty, so she’s probably a bit thick and bitchy.
I know she’s judging me because my
clothes are so shabby, but I am just not the type of girl that feels
comfortable in expensive clothes.
When I
am in a strange place, I like to mentally calculate the size of the rooms and
how much furniture there is in the rooms. I also like to think about how socially
awkward I am. I think about this a lot. But
right now, I am really thinking about what a total dick Karen is for not
preparing me properly for this interview. It gets really crowded in my head
sometimes, which is probably why I love books. I wish I was reading a book
right now.
This
black man comes out of Grey’s office. I don’t know why this is important,
because we don’t meet the black man again. I love black people, though, don’t
you? They’re so twinkly and happy. This one says, ‘Golf next week, Grey?’ It’s
so unexpected. I didn’t know that black people could play golf, only basketball
and that thing where they run round the big track really fast. Oh, but wait,
there is that one that plays golf, isn’t there? His name’s Lion or something.
Or am I getting muddled up with cricket…? I know brown people play that, but black people sort of are brown so….
‘Mr Grey will see you now, just go in’ says
this blonde woman, smiling at me kindly. People smile at me like that a lot. I
expect it’s because I’m really pretty, but also I’m also really scruffy, so I don’t
intimidate them very much and they’d like to be friends with me.
As I
push open the door, I trip over my own feet and land on my face because I am so
uncoordinated and clumsy.
Oh, fudgesicles, me
and my massive feet! I am on my hands and knees in the doorway. Gentle hands
are around me, helping me to my ginormous clown feet. I am so mortified. I peek up at him, like Princess Di did with Martin
Bashir in that interview. Sugarflaps,
he’s so young and so HOT. Mr Grey, not Martin Bashir.
‘Miss
Cartwright,’ he says, holding out his hand. ‘I’m Cullen Grey,’
He’s
like, sooo young. I mean, he’s older than me, but he’s young. And he’s hot. I
don’t know if I mentioned that he’s hot. I’ll describe him to you, so you can
really understand how hot he is. OK, so, right, he’s tall, and has messy copper
hair, and his eyes are gray, which is weird, because his NAME is GREY! He’s
wearing a smart gray suit with a white shirt and a black tie. I wonder if he
chose a gray suit because his name is GREY?
I don’t
think I’ve mentioned that he’s young. I’m all at sixes and sevens when I shake
his hand. The touch of his long fingers makes me quiver, but in a good way,
like when you’re on the train or you stand too close to the washing machine
when it’s on the spin cycle. How weird,
I think and my eyelids start blinking in time with my heartbeat, which means I
blink about 80 times in one minute.
‘Do you
have something in your eye, Miss Cartwright?’ he asks.
‘Miss
Cartwright is indisposed, so she sent me. I hope that’s alright, Mr Grey,’
‘And
you are?’ he says. I think he might find me amusing, but his face is
giving away nothing, so it’s hard to tell. I really need visual clues to gauge
what people think. Also, I told you that blonde receptionist was stupid, she
didn’t even tell Mr Grey who I am, which would cut out this whole needless hot
mess of confusion that is my creator’s excuse for a meet cute.
‘Annie
Mallard, I’m studying English Literature with Karen, er, Miss Cartwright at
WSU,’
‘I
see,’ he says, smirking.
I take
a few minutes to needlessly mentally calculate the size of the room, how much
furniture there is in it, paying close attention in particular to the number of
chairs there are and how many people can sit in the chairs. I also look at some
paintings and feel like I need to comment on them, so you, the reader, know
that I am clever because I understand art.
My
knowledge of art also impresses Cullen
Grey, this is to let you, the reader, know other people also think I am clever.
OK, so,
I’m going be honest. The interview doesn’t go very well. I ask Mr Grey stupid
questions, insult him, and call him names.
This is to show that I am a feisty, self-contained woman who’s not
intimidated by anyone, apart from all the times when I tell you how intimidated
I am by someone.
Grey
repeatedly does this weird thing where everything he says actually means
something else. This is to provide you,
the reader, a hint of Grey’s true character and what is to come, and show that
me, Annie, is too innocent to understand what he’s getting at it, even though I
sort of do understand, because one of
the names I call him is control freak.
I also
ask if he’s gay, because stupid Karen has written it down and even though I
read over the questions while I was waiting, I didn’t actually absorb what they
said. Karen
is such a douche, she did this on purpose
to make me look stupid! I am so going
to keep bringing it up when I get home. It’s totally her fault and not mine that I’ve fucked this up by
being ill-prepared and rude.
Then
Cullen Grey starts asking me questions, about me, Annie, and I really don’t
like talking about myself, so I just bite my lip. He looks at me weirdly, sort
of like he wants to eat me, and it makes my kitty-woo feel funny. Oh, no, I think I’ve wet myself, this is
soooo humiliating! I’ve simply got to get out of here.
As he
walks me out of his office, Mr Grey makes a funny joke about how clumsy I was
falling over earlier, which sort of makes me hate him. It has been a very
confusing day so far. He helps me put my
coat on and his hands brush my shoulders, which makes me feel all quivery
again. He carries on staring at me as we
wait for the elevator. He’s so handsome. I didn’t tell you how handsome he is.
He’s really handsome.
I get
into the elevator.
‘Annie,’
he says.
‘Cullen,’
I say as the doors close.
Bonus Round:
Clunky
exposition count: 395
Foreshadowing
alerts: the foreshadowing alert counter exploded
