Chapter 3
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I took a deep breath, gauging my outfit in the mirror. I tried to go for something simple, but fashionable at the same time...something like an interview outfit? I wasn't sure if I was trying too hard, or not trying hard enough.

The clothes I chose were what Kath had bought for my twenty-first birthday, back when my old roommate dropped out to marry what we now knew was a drug dealer. 

She knew I didn't like pencil skirts, so the skirt she gave me was flowery and wide, flattening like Marilyn Monroe when I spun in a circle. It was a beige color, matching my white frilly blouse. In a way, I felt like I was going to my high school picture day. My Mom had dressed me in something similar if I remember correctly.

"Adrienne? Are you ready?" Kath's voice managed to reach my ears loudly, despite the thick walls of my room.

Taking one last judgemental glare at myself, I grabbed my backpack and opened the creaky wooden door, careful not to wake up Vincent. He had performed well at his concert, so well, in fact, that his teacher even gave him a solo act on the flute at the end. He was still blushing when we got home.

Kath's eyes immediately snapped to me when my boots became loud enough to be heard from the living room. She was laying on the couch with her shoes on as if she owned the place. Her cheeks were still puffy and sticky from running the mile to get to my home, and the water glass on the table was completely empty.

She whistled quietly, scanning me like I was a receipt and she was looking for the price. She stood from the couch, dragging her feet on the carpet and circling me like a hawk. I stayed rooted in place. She hated it when I moved during her silent interrogations.

"You look nice," she finally breathed, beaming at me. Her eyes sparkled. "Are you sure this is an interview for Alvarez and not a date?"

I shoved her shoulder, giggling as I grabbed my phone. "No, I'm sure it's an interview for Alvarez. Unless he's trying to set me up."

"Alvarez? The Professor Alvarez? Set you up?" Kath scoffed. "You wish. I'm surprised he's even married!"

"It wasn't too much of a surprise to me," I murmured, sipping on the once-hot tea. "He is good-looking."

"Hm..." Kath scowled. "Nah. I mean, unless you're interested in guys who look like a combination of Dracula and Van Goh, then be my guest."

I shook my head. "He doesn't really look like Van Gogh. He looks more like a...French painter, or maybe a mime?"

"I can see a mime," Kath agreed. She regarded the tilted clock on the wall. It was from the time Vincent and Gryffin decided to play baseball when I had my final exams. Least to say they never played sports in the house again.

"What are you looking at? Got a date with Matthew?" I teased, crossing my arms over my chest.

Kath grunted. "No. I'm just making sure you aren't going to be late for meeting the richest man in the world." She winked at me. "And also the most coveted bachelor."

Rolling my eyes, I stuffed my phone into my backpack, double-checking to make sure all the papers I needed were there. 

"I don't care about the bachelor part," I grumbled. "He's out of my league."

"So? A girl can dream, right?" Kath smiled at me. "Just be yourself. If he can't see you for the wonderful being that you are, then fuck him."

"Literally or figuratively?"

"Both!"

We broke out into wheezing laughter, doubling over on the couch. Kath's laugh was melodious, like the ringtone of a phone. Mine, on the other hand, was mostly wheezing and raspy. I always thought it sounded like an elephant fighting a snake.

Bidding Kath goodbye and fixing my bag over my shoulder one last time, I made my way down the flaky sidewalk towards the towering college building only a few blocks away. Madame Doniya had thankfully been lenient on my shift today. She didn't give me as much brunt work as she usually did, which meant that I wouldn't be sore for my meeting and shuffling in my seat while Mr. Noir spoke.

The school grounds were dark when I arrived. Professor Alvarez was waiting by the cafeteria entry, closest to the library exit. The moon sat above him like a spotlight, bright and blue. He looked like he was getting ready to sing in a Broadway musical, which was definitely not something I could see Professor Alvarez doing.

"Adrienne." He nodded to me, shaking my hand. "Mr. Noir is already inside." Noting the panic rising in my breathing, he chuckled lowly. "Don't worry. You are perfectly on time. Mr. Noir just arrived early."

I loudly let out the breath that I had been holding, blushing. "Okay. Are you going to wait here...or...?"

Professor Alvarez sighed. "Well, the janitors have already left and I can't leave you on school ground alone--it's in the rulebook, so I suppose I will be waiting here."

"Won't you get bored?"

"Oh, I don't think so." He patted his thick satchel. "I have a pile of papers to grade and new books to put call numbers on. I can assure you that I will be quite busy."

I grinned. "Thank you, Professor Alvarez."

He nodded. "Of course," and gestured to the rusty doors behind him.

--------------------------

The cafeteria lights were on when I opened the door. Day-old chicken nuggets and ranch dressing wafted to my nose, and usually, my mouth would be watering, but since I had just eaten my dinner and a mint, it wasn't very appealing at the time.

Taking a couple of hesitant steps into the canteen, I caught sight of a shadowy figure sitting casually on one of the benches, his eyes already on my body before I could register who it was.

He smiled, cute dimples poking his tan cheeks. His dark eyes traveled down my frame, quickly meeting mine. Standing from the table, he smoothly brushed back his bushy dark hair, striding towards me.

"Miss. Adrienne Walker, we meet again," Lazareth Noir murmured, bending softly to kiss the back of my hand.

I gaped at him. My heart dropped in my chest, but just as quickly, it began to jump up and down, giggling like a schoolgirl who just met Justin Beiber. 

"Y-You...we met yesterday, right? At the library?" I managed, attempting to gather any dignity I had left by smoothly taking my hand away. He rose.

"Yes. I took your advice about the books, by the way," he said. His eyes roamed over me with more freedom now, like he was searching for something.

"Oh? Did you find one to your liking?" I asked, allowing him to lead me to one of the benches. His hand was hard, but warm around mine. It sent electric shocks through my skin and in my veins, heightening my senses like a new light bulb.

"Yes, actually. I believe it was titled The Fault in Our Stars."

"Oh! A lot of teenagers enjoy that book!" I gasped, smiling. "Have you started reading it yet?"

"Not yet. I'm afraid I got caught up in work." He smiled gently. "But perhaps I can start tonight, seeing as you enjoy that book."

"I do," I blushed. "But we should probably get this interview going while we can. It's pretty late and I don't want to be keeping you."

"I beg to differ," he smirked. "You aren't keeping me from anything, Miss. Walker. I would gladly spend all night here with you if I could."

I was pretty sure my heart had stopped beating when he said that he would stay the entire night with me. It was already mind-boggling enough that I was having a normal conversation with one of the richest men in the world, but for him to insinuate something like that? So soon? And with a girl, he barely knows?

Shakily, I laughed, pulling the heavy recorder from my backpack. "I would too," I decided honestly, peeking up from the side of the table to gauge his reaction. A ghost of a smile passed over his lips, his eyes as hard as ever.

"Wonderful," he murmured. "Now then, what is your first question, Miss. Walker?"

"What inspired you to get into the Real Estate business?" I asked, clearing my throat quietly to hide my stutter. I was pretty sure that I was still blushing. My heart was definitely doing backflips, my mind squealing.

"What inspired me?" Mr. Noir repeated languidly, his Adam's apple bobbing. "Well, I suppose poverty would be a sufficient answer. I was born into not a well-off family. My father died when I was young and my mother didn't remarry. She raised me and my sister on her own by begging on the streets. Somehow, she was able to smuggle me into the United States, and after I was old enough to apply for citizenship, I worked to give back to the world and not let my mother's efforts go to waste."

Of course. I knew he would say something like that, I thought to myself, nodding.

"Do you like being in the realtor field of business? Would you have chosen a different area of business if you could?" I questioned, gazing at him from underneath my long bangs.

He smiled. "I enjoy being in the realtor field. I like seeing my customer's faces light up when they realize that they finally have a place to call home. It...reminds me of my mother..." his smile dropped for a moment but quickly returned. "Excuse me. I have never been this open in an interview before."

My heart squeezed for him, but again, my interest was piqued. "Really? You don't get these questions in other interviews?"

He laughed, a soft, deep laugh. "Oh, I do. It's just...with you...you seem like you can read right through me if I were telling I lie. I feel compelled to tell you the truth, Miss. Walker." He nodded towards the papers. "Anything else?"

My mouth felt heavy, filled with saliva, and my burning hands flipped the packet. "What's your favorite color?"

It was a juvenile question, I know. But if Professor Alvarez approved of it, then I was going to ask it. Besides, I was curious.

Mr. Noir's eyes widened for a split second, as though he were taking in the absurdity of the question before his lips broke out into a large, dimpled smile.

"Black," he replied softly.

"Black?" I repeated, partially in confusion, and partially so that the mic heard his answer. "Why black?"

"Black is often an overlooked color," he explained. "It's dark, it's evil, but it's so...misunderstood. It craves attention and if given a chance, it can prove to be just as beautiful as any other color."

"Wow..." I bit my lip, smiling at him. "That's really inspirational."

He shrugged. "It's just what I feel."

"Okay..." I studied the page. "If you could go back in time and tell yourself one thing, what would it be?"

He stayed silent for a moment, thinking.

"I would tell myself to speak up before it's too late," he said. "I have many regrets from my past, Miss. Walker, but the thing I regret the most...is not speaking up."

I wanted to ask him more about what he meant--he was being so vague. But his eyes were pinched and his lips were pressed in a thin line. He didn't want to say anymore.

So I didn't press him, despite my mind begging me to. I crossed the question off the paper and swallowed the hot saliva in my throat.

"Why were you at the library yesterday?" I asked, cocking my head to the side. "Was it out of curiosity?"

He chuckled. "No, not exactly. I have been to the library before...with bodyguards, but I went there specifically to feel normal." I raised my eyebrow and he flushed. "Well, I suppose I didn't exactly look normal, but it's nice to feel a sense of normalcy in a while, especially when you're in my world."

"That I can understand," I agreed. "It's nice to go out regardless." I crossed the question off. "And that concludes our interview, Mr. Noir." I shut off the recorder.

"The interview went quicker than I expected it to," he observed, rising from the table. He gave me his calloused hand. "My previous interviews have all surpassed an hour at least."

I shrugged. "I told you--I didn't want to keep you here for long."

"And I told you--I'd stay here the whole night to answer your questions," he rebutted promptly. "I enjoyed my time with you, Miss. Walker--!"

"Adrienne," I cut in. He gave me a quizzical look, and I blushed. My heart still thrummed in my chest. "I know we may not meet each other again, Mr. Noir, but please, call me Adrienne."

"Adrienne." My name melted on his tongue, like the rich liquor Kath drinks after she passes a test. "You have a beautiful name."

I smiled, toying with my fingers. "Thank you! Your name isn't bad either..."

"You can say it," he grinned. "Lazareth isn't a very common name, I know. However, I do want to meet you again, contrary to your belief, Adrienne."

"What?" I fumbled with the doorknob. Again, I thought my heart had stopped. "W-What do you mean, Mr. Noir?"

"Firstly, call me Lazareth," he ordered. When I didn't say anything, he tapped my cheek gently, and I shocked myself out of my trance. 

"Lazareth?" I tested his name. It left a slightly sour taste, but it wasn't like a cough drop. It was more like I was eating sour candy.

"Yes, that's my name," he smiled. "Secondly, I do want to see you again, Adrienne."

"Why?"

"Because you intrigue me," Lazareth replied simply. "You didn't recognize me yesterday in the library and you still treated me with respect. And even when you found out who I am, you didn't treat me any different. You spoke to me...differently. Freely. And I like that."

"I wasn't sure if I was speaking with enough respect or not," I flushed. "But, um, I wouldn't mind indulging in your intrigue, Lazareth."

"Wonderful," he smirked, and with new numbers on our phones, Lazareth and I parted ways, walking to the opposite doors of the cafeteria.

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