Anastasia stopped outside The Donovan Mansion and looked at the sprawling gardens and the white coloured mansion. It gave off an oppressive feeling just to stand in front of it.
She had decided to call and fix an appointment time with The Donovan Patriarch and the old man had readily agreed to meet her.
When she had asked for the place and time of the meeting, he had laughed and simply told her to visit him at his ancestral place anytime she was free before the time limit for the loan ended.
His words had been casual and that had thrown her for a loop. She couldn't comprehend what the old coot was trying to achieve by being so mysterious but she had readily agreed.
Now, thirty hours after her talk, she was standing at the front of the place whose inhabitants rule the business world in the capital city with an iron fist.
She had brought Ivy and Jason along with her. She knew the adage to have some sort of back up while entering a lion's den and today, she might need all the support and help she could have at her disposal.
The butler brought the three of them to the staircase that would take them to the study of the patriarch and just as she took a step forward to go up, Anastasia faltered.
The butler had already left so, it gave her a few moments to try and compartmentalise her emotions. It wouldn't do to show an ounce of weakness before the old coot. It would be akin to the smell of blood to that sharp-toothed shark.
She ran a hand through her hair in frustration and went upstairs.
Before she could knock on the door, she heard a stately voice say, "Come inside."
She saw the camera attached to the upper right corner of the door and she knew the old coot must have seen her standing there.
It irked her that the other person hadn't even allowed her the common courtesy to knock on the door before acting as the lord while calling her inside.
She entered with all the poise her mother had taught her and was met with a man sitting in the shadows by the large oak desk.
Ivy and Jason entered the study following her footsteps as well and the Donovan patriarch didn't seem to mind the intrusion of the other two she had brought along.
Atleast, that was a small mercy and she would take whatever she could get at the moment.
It wasn't lost on her that though the study was decorated tastefully, the chair the other person was sitting upon was at an elevated position and the oak table somewhat inclined on the other end to leave no doubt as to who was in charge in the study.
The study had a bug bookcase filled to the brim with books behind the chair of the old man and on the other side of the large oak table, it had three chairs situated in a way that gave the impression that a recalcitrant child would be called into the study to make them realise their mistakes.
She had seen her father employ the same tactics when he wanted someone to either agree with him easily or to show off his might to his business associates.
However, the dim lights of the study and the play of shadows didn't put her at ease.
On the contrary, it brought to her mind that without her parents, she was similar to a leaf blowing aimlessly along the currents of the wind.
The other person didn't invite her to take a seat or even say any greetings of any sort. The study was so silent that if even a mouse squeaked, it would have been heard loud and clear in the silence.
However, why would there be mice in such a place? Anastasia tried to stop her thoughts from going off on a tangent.
She could feel the start of a throbbing headache at her temples. The room's tension had risen to a peak but she didn't dare break the silence.
She understood that this was something of silent dance that both of them were participating in and Ii would set the tone of their negotiations.
If she was the one who faltered first, it would lead to a black mark against her and the Donovan Patriarch wouldn't take her seriously or pay any heed to her words.
She hoped that her eyes didn't betray her apprehension.
A few minutes later, Mr Brian Donovan said, "It's a pleasure to meet you, Miss Anastasia Rayburn."
She bowed her head in response. According to high society courtesies, she couldn't speak until she was given express permission to talk or asked to take a seat. It was a sign of respect accorded to the older generation.
Had it been someone her own age, either of them could have spoken first but the current situation demanded that she dance the dance of courtesies and she would be damned if she allowed this meddling old man to fault her for her manners.
Brian Donovan had wrinkles all over his face, his hair had turned completely white with age but his pale eyes still had the sharp, intent gaze - that of a predator.
He gave a faint smile to her when she didn't fidget at his intense scrutiny and Anastasia was sure that it held two parts appreciation, three parts approval and five parts of a questioning tilt to his lips.
She kept her posture straight and her eyes half-lowered to show that though she respected the person in front of her, she wasn't intimidated by him.
Her mother had taught her that the upper echelons of society used such formalities or as they were called dances in an informal way to evaluate others since times immemorial.
These manners and body language were used to filter the cream from the crop, to separate the intelligent from the boorish ones, the leaders from the ones who followed.
After another long look at her, he continued, "I was saddened to hear about the demise of your parents. I wish we were meeting in better circumstances but as matters stand, I would be remiss if I didn't pass my condolences to you and welcome you to The Donovan Mansion, Miss Rayburn."
Anastasia breathed in deeply at those words.
No matter how many variations of those words she had heard in the past half a year, it still left her feeling as if her heart was bleeding profusely whenever someone repeated those words.
Trying to stay strong, she replied, "Thank You for your sympathy and kindness, Mr Donovan."
She gave a small sigh of relief because that welcome was akin to inviting her to the place and giving her permission to take a seat.
With practised ease, she took the proffered seat and waited with bated breath for the next volley of words.
Meanwhile, Ivy and Jason stood as silent puppets at the entrance of the door.
It didn't take long for the old coot to speak.
"Miss Rayburn, I won't beat around the bush with you as that would be an insult to your intelligence and I don't have the time or the heart to play word games with you. As you might have noticed, the deaths of your parents mean that the humongous amount of money I had loaned to your father seems to be for the moment, thrown aboard a sinking ship. I hadn't thought this would pose too much of a problem, but…"
She interrupted him mid-sentence. She knew it was a misstep in the formalities but she had to stave him off before he said something that might irrevocably damage her company.
"Mr Donovan, I realise that it has put you in a tight spot but I can assure you that I will pay the full amount The Rayburns owe to you in the agreed-upon time in the initial contract."
When she saw that he was listening to her words and hadn't rebuked her for interrupting him, she felt emboldened and carried on while trying to make him loosen up with an emotional appeal.
"You see mama and papa passed away so suddenly and my hands are tied at the moment. I have just turned twenty and don't have much movable cash to give you at the moment...."
At this point, Brian Donovan cut off her speech.
"Do please spare me the self-pity, Miss Rayburn. You are indeed going through tiring times and indeed, I sympathise with you but personal emotions have no place in business negotiations."
She sighed to herself.
It seemed trying to invoke pity from this man was a lost cause.
She herself hadn't had much faith that her words would work but still, nobody could fault her for trying.