Deathless

Chapter 16: Millie

The slap, slap of my flats echoes across the marble floor in the atrium of Jackson's building. Above me, there's a large sweeping ceiling with elaborate but contemporary chandeliers and even more marble. The art déco touches across the room are self-consciously balanced with the modern fixtures. It reminds me of Jackson himself. Tonnes of charm but knowingly and consciously so.

The desk is right at the back, forcing me to cross the room walking past plush settees and rich mahogany coffee tables. A smartly dressed security guard sits behind the desk, he watches me with an amused expression. His eyes seem to chuckle.

I approach cautiously, feeling out of place in the high-sheen gloss of this world, but he says nothing, just continues to watch me. Annoyance sparks in me. I can already feel the condescension and he hasn't even uttered a word. When I reach the grand desk, it looks even bigger than from a distance. It's supposed to intimidate those prone to be intimidated by wealth, but that's not me. I slap my hands down on the counter. The cold marble feels icy under my warm fingers.

"Hello."

"Hello, dear. Back again?" His salt and pepper moustache twitches, and I know he's holding back a smirk.

This catches me off guard. My memories of getting to Jackson's are hazy, but I faintly remember this room, the faux grandeur in a cavernous space. His expression is professional, but there's enough amusement there for me to know that he remembers the drunk girl slung over Jackson's shoulder.

"Looks that way. Umm... can you call Jackson, please? And let him know I'm here? It's Millie, I have some things of his." I keep my words firm. I'm nervous, but not because of an old man with a superiority complex. It's seeing Jackson again that's tripping my nerves. The certainty I'd been feeling all week has melted away as the reality of how badly this could go hits me.

He smiles again but makes no effort to move and make the call, just keeps watching me. I move my weight from one foot to the other, my fingers clenching tightly on the bag. I tighten my lips and resist the urge to speak my mind. He tilts his head and finally speaks.

"He's a creature of habit, is our Jackson, Sunday morning run. Like clockwork. He won't be back for a while yet."

My body slumps and I can tell he sees my disappointment.

"Oh. How long is he usually? I can wait."

"A while." I wait for him to elaborate, but he adds nothing.

"Right."

"You can leave his things with me if you'd like? As I said, he'll be..."

"A while. Got it."

I hesitate, looking down at the bag containing Jackson's things. My excuse to come here. He smirks at me, and I know he's enjoying this. I wonder if I'm just one of many girls who come here, finding a reason to see Jackson. It wouldn't surprise me, but the thought still stings. Sighing, I put the bag on the desk and push it across to him.

"Can you tell him it's from Millie?" I eye him carefully.

"If they're his things, won't he know they're from you?" He takes the bag and places it under the desk. I'm annoyed now. He might have a point, but he's mocking me and we both know it.

"Thank you for all your help." I lace my words with as much sarcasm as I can, glaring at him hard enough to set that mocking moustache on fire.

"You're welcome, dear."

Turning sharply, I stomp away until I'm standing in front of the large glass doors. I turn back and look at the security guard. He waves, curling his chubby fingers as he grins at me. I fight every instinct in my body to respond with my middle finger. Smiling tightly, I roll my eyes and walk back out into the autumn air.