Chapter 2: Disbelief

><><>< 

Stalking through the door that separated his and Geoff’s adjoining offices, Draco flung himself into one of the chairs facing his partner’s desk, a feral smirk upon his face. As Geoff glanced up from a mountain of paperwork, he snorted and continued skimming the papers in front of him. “How is it that I always find myself renewing all of our contracts while you find time to prance into my office at any hour you please?” He waved a thick folder in Draco’s direction as if to prove his point.

“Well, mate,” Draco replied, “you are right. I saw that you were busy, so I took the liberty of addressing your...friend.” He paused there, building up the curiosity he knew was sprouting in Geoff’s mind and waiting for his partner to meet his eyes once again. When Geoff glanced up, Draco added, “Jennifer called for you.”

“She did?” Geoff asked, surprised. His brow furrowed in disbelief as he considered this new information. “I was expecting her to wait at least until tomorrow. She must really want this deal to—” he paused, narrowing his eyes. The innocent look on Draco’s face did nothing to fool Geoff; they were quite attuned to each other’s games. “Wait a minute, you spoke with her? About the proposal? What did you say?” There was irritation and a slight trace of apprehension in his voice as he watched Draco’s face for a reaction.

“Oh, don’t fret. I didn’t run her off, or any such rot,” Draco assured him. “Indeed, quite the opposite. You were right about her, she is a feisty one,” Draco added, his smirk growing wider. “I only explained to her that she should expect a few stipulations when conducting business with us.” Once again, Draco left a significant pause before delivering his final bit of news. “We agreed that discussions pertaining to such things should be made in person.”

><><><

“Bugger it all to hell!” Ginny grumbled, examining her reflection in the mirror of a bathroom inside of Opulentia Enterprises headquarters. The reflection that greeted her was nothing to be proud of: her hair looked dull, the vibrant copper hue she usually flaunted currently distorted by a mass of tangles and knots. But the mess of her hair could certainly rival her clothes’ condition, considering the wrinkled fabric hardly resembled the clean-cut business suit she had chosen to don before her flight. This was a sorry-looking bit of chaos staring back at her, and Ginny was hard-pressed to find some semblance of order in the disarray. She pulled a brush out of her bag and attacked the rats nest that had taken residence upon her head.

When she had considered her new job and all of the perks, returning to England had not been one of them. In fact, it hadn’t even been on her list of things to accomplish in the next ten or so years. So when her boss had proposed (or, ordered, more like) that she go in place of a representative to Opulentia Enterprises, she had been momentarily speechless. It was obvious that her boss wanted this deal to work, and having seen her accomplishment at the proposal he viewed her as some sort of good luck charm. There had been a lot of restraint involved on her part to keep from dropping to her knees and begging for him to send someone else. But even a small glance at her boss’ expression had told her he was immovable on the subject.

Now she was in this admittedly posh restroom, trying to look decent after over twenty-four hours of no sleep and an eight hour flight (it wouldn’t be a far stretch of the imagination to see how well that had gone). She seemed to have developed a knack over the past few weeks for ignoring her increasingly frazzled expression and the dark bags under her eyes—they had become regular visitors to her lately pallid features—but they seemed far more noticeable in this situation. Ginny took a deep breath and hardened her resolve. She needed this job, and if coming here and setting this proposal in motion was the only way then she was going to have this deal moving at the speed of light. She walked out of the loo with a strong smile on her face and settled herself into a plush armchair in the waiting room she had been directed to.

“Miss Jennifer Wesley?” the secretary called at almost the same second Ginny had gotten comfortable.

Ginny’s smile faltered. Honestly, they couldn’t get her name right after all this time? “Actually, it’s Ginevra Weasley,” she corrected with a slight edge in her voice, gathering her things and walking over to the desk.

“Yes, of course,” the woman agreed with a hint of sarcasm, as though this were just another social call. “Mr. Kingston will see you now.” Ginny was ushered through a series of doors that seemed to appear out of nowhere, barely able to take in her surroundings before new ones took their place. It was only moments before she was being led into a beautiful office. After informing Ginny to make herself comfortable in a grudging manner, the secretary took her leave, allowing Ginny to look around in relative solitude. Well, at least Margaret is civil, Ginny thought gratefully of her personal secretary.

With that thought in her mind, Ginny examined the room she had been led to: everything about it radiated wealth. The desk in the middle of the room was the largest piece of furniture and it dominated its surroundings. The pristine structure looked hand-carved and was made of ebony wood with decorative mahogany inlays. Its clean surface was marred slightly with stacks of unorganized papers, and the desk was backed by an imposing black leather chair. The room itself was rectangular in shape, with the two walls on either side of the desk covered with floor-to-ceiling bookshelves. The wall she was facing appeared to have been knocked out and was replaced by a large window. Dark maroon curtains hung from either side where the ornate window awarded her with a breathtaking view of the city.

As she took slows steps around the perimeter of the office, Ginny saw numerous plaques and certificates and was beginning to feel a bit intimidated by it all. This place was far more overwhelming than she had anticipated. Money she could handle, but this...blunt aristocracy? It was most definitely out of her league. She could even feel the gentle suction of the velvety carpet beneath her; the fact that she was even considering slipping off her blistering heels and sinking her toes into the inviting softness reminded her that she was far from any sort of nobility. When the door behind her opened Ginny was startled by the interruption. She banished the thoughts from her head and turned quickly, greeted by the exuberant face of Geoff Kingston.

“You made it!” exclaimed Geoff, who strode into the office and shook Ginny’s hand before gesturing for her to take a seat. As she settled into one of the lavish chairs facing the desk, Geoff reclined into the desk chair opposite her, still sporting a massive grin. It was a relief to see that some things remained the same. Despite the obvious power that reeked from every corner of his office, Geoff seemed just as down-to-earth as the day she had met him. “I must admit, I had my doubts,” he said, drawing back her focus. “Here in a day? Incredible. And I had thought that a less-important representative would have been sent in your stead.”

“Well, this deal is vital to our company,” Ginny replied, flattered by his appraisal but trying to steer him towards the business end of their meeting. While she thoroughly enjoyed Geoff’s kind manner, she also pegged him as one to get easily off track if she allowed it. If she was going to run this deal through, she had to start off on the right foot. Determined, her voice came out harsher than she meant it to. “I spoke with your partner yesterday; I hadn’t realized this would be approved so quickly.”

Geoff, who was rummaging through one of the many stacks of papers on his desk, let out a deep guffaw at her comment. “Yes, and I’m sure he was more than polite, eh? Now where is that form?” He wandered over to a filing cabinet in search of it, glancing over his shoulder at her as he continued. “When I heard you had spoken to him, I was afraid he had completely blown the offer. He is definitely the more...ruthless partner, if I may be so bold.” Turning back to his search, Geoff missed the slight quirk of her brow at his assessment.

“So nice of you to stroke my ego at such an early hour, Geoff,” a voice interrupted. Draco Malfoy walked into the office devoid of any warning, commandeering his partner’s desk chair without a glance in Ginny’s direction. His face sported a faint scowl as he turned his head towards Geoff. “But that isn’t going to let you off the hook for skiving off in the middle of our meeting this morning,” he drawled. Propping his feet up with no regard towards the paperwork beneath them, Draco snatched a scrap piece of parchment from the desk and began folding a small figure out of it. “What could have possibly been so urgent?” he asked. “You left me to fend for myself with that bloody nagging client! I thought we had agreed that he was your territory after the incident last month.”

With a slight smirk, Geoff said nothing and inclined his head in Ginny’s direction, no sign of penitence in his expression. As Draco followed his partner’s line of sight, he locked eyes with Ginny’s. Inspecting her rumpled clothes, deep red hair, and less than attractive gaping mouth, Draco gave a slight nod of assent. “So,” he began with a sinister curl of his lips, “you’re the spicy vixen who practically shattered my eardrum yesterday?”

Ginny could hardly find any words to describe what she was seeing, let alone to formulate an intelligent reply. She settled for closing her open mouth, trying to gather some sort of explanation for the presence of the blonde man before her. Having found the paperwork he was looking for, Geoff shot Draco a look before perching on the corner of his desk. “Draco, you are looking at our soon-to-be business partner,” he explained. Finally sparing a look in Ginny’s direction, he seemed surprised by her expression. “Something the matter?”

“She’s obviously stunned by my charming good looks,” Draco jested, saving Ginny from having to answer. He tossed his completed paper masterpiece of a miniature eagle at the back of Geoff’s head and rose, leaning over the desk towards Ginny with two fists propped on the desk’s surface. “You’ll adjust soon enough,” he said to her with amusement in his voice. “Although usually women at least get through the introductions before falling all over me,” he added. “I am—”

“I know who you are,” Ginny cut him off, recovering. Whoever she had expected to meet, it had not been a fully-grown (and much more attractive) Draco Malfoy. The man before her had certainly evolved from the slimy boy of her childhood. His silvery blonde hair, for one, was no longer gelled back. It was actually shoulder-length and tied at the nape of his neck with a leather thong. He was dressed to impress, in a Muggle business suit that she would never have imagined a Malfoy would ever consider wearing. And, she had to admit, the years certainly hadn’t done wrong by him. He was only a year older than her, but she saw nothing on his face of sleepless nights or stressed workdays—two things that were always visible in her reflection. Although, judging from their small conversation so far, not everything had changed. Draco was as snide as ever; his ego actually seemed to have expanded, if that were at all possible. Extending her hand, Ginny smiled cruelly. “Pleased to make your acquaintance.” Then, with a slight narrowing of her eyes that dared him to comment, she added in a mocking tone, “Ginevra Weasley.”

It took only the span of a heartbeat for the knowledge to sink in, register, and for Draco to recover from his shock—of course, this was Malfoy, we’re talking about—and he showed no signs of recognition other than a slightly harsher squeeze as he took her offered hand. “The pleasure is all mine,” Draco replied in a much softer voice, making sure to look down at her as he pulled away his hand and rose to his full height. While his attempts at intimidation didn’t faze her, Ginny was sure that his steely gaze would break through her resolve before she had a chance to work all of this through her mind. But that didn’t stop her from glowering right back.

Geoff, unsure of what was going on as he looked between the two, clapped his hands together and gave a weak chuckle. “Well, with all of the formalities out of the way, why don’t we get down to business?” He walked around the edge of the desk and pushed Draco away from his chair, breaking the staring contest that had begun between the two. Geoff settled himself back into the leather seat and arranged his paperwork on the surface before him. Just as Geoff opened his mouth to continue, Draco interrupted.

“Geoff, you can’t expect me to let you have all of the fun, can you?” Draco asked with a slight edge to his tone. Ginny was instantly wary of what his words implied. “You had your turn with her on the plane, it’s my move now.” She also didn’t mistake the double-meaning behind his words, and she was struggling to hide her glare at Draco from Geoff. “I’m sure Miss Weasley has yet to have anything to eat since she arrived. Why don’t we take a quick lunch to...get to know one another,” Draco asked Ginny, his look daring her to decline.

It took mere seconds for her to weigh her options. “It’s been a while since I’ve had a good English dish,” Ginny countered, playing along for the moment. With a slight smile at Geoff, she added, “As long as you don’t mind...?”

Sensing there was more going on between the two than was being let on, Geoff paused before tacking on his signature grin. He would drill the information out of Draco later. “No, no, go right ahead. I have some paperwork to catch up on before we can continue anyhow,” he added lamely. He reshuffled the papers in front of him uselessly and it took less than ten seconds for the other two to clear the room, leaving behind a very confused but intrigued Geoff.

><><><

As soon as they were out of earshot, Ginny practically growled with frustration. “Oh, you have seriously got to be joking. Malfoy?” she asked incredulously. As her temper grew to unhealthy proportions, her pace sped up until she was practically jogging from the adrenaline rush, her heels slapping madly against the granite floors. “Since when do you associate with the likes of Muggles?” Scoffing at the idea of Muggles even giving the stinking git the time of day, Ginny increased her speed even more. This is obviously a huge joke, she reasoned with herself; what else could possibly explain this unwelcome visitor from her past? Geoff, as nice as he was, had obviously been in on the whole thing, that was for sure. She’d never met the bloke before their flight together, but she hadn’t quite gotten to thinking through what his involvement meant or even why the joke should be on her.

“Since when does a Weasley pretend to be a Muggle?” Draco argued instantly, dropping all pretenses of formality; it was bad enough pretending like he had never met the chit in front of Geoff without being civil to her now. Besides, perhaps a healthy slap-in-the-face would send her back where she came from. Merlin knew it could only be from a stolen sewer or something equally below par. Draco couldn’t seem to understand what force of nature had led a Weasley anywhere near him, let alone within a twenty-mile radius of his company, which was located in none other but the richest part of town. Seeing that she was working herself into a frenzy over it all, Draco couldn’t help but smirk as he lengthened his stride and continued to scrutinize the woman in front of him.

What was the deal with living in America? Admittedly, Hogwarts had been an absolute dump compared to the luxury Draco was so fond of, but it certainly didn’t repel him to the opposite side of the globe. Besides, wasn’t the youngest Weasley used to the rough-‘n-tough lifestyle? Simply moving away could have solved that issue without having to live with those...Muggles. Draco practically shivered with disdain. The imbeciles probably paid her with carved stones and breadcrumbs. “I knew you were always disgustingly fond of them, but shouldn’t you be busy raising a den of rugrats or something? You could probably set a new record and beat your parents out of it if you tried,” he said, releasing a small chuckle at the idea. “Or are the munchkins just out begging for knuts while you attempt a day job?”

Ginny’s glare could have cut through a wall of steel. They had reached the sidewalk just outside of Opulentia Enterprises and she froze, turning to face him. “Listen here, you bloody ferret. I am not my parents, and you would do well to remember that.” Her tone was surprisingly soft and cutting, nothing at all like her usual shrieking rage. It instantly exposed a painful line of thought that she hadn’t meant to reveal to him—ever. Struggling to conceal her blunder, she quickly parried his lunge and returned with one of her own. “Speaking of parents, have you paid a visit to daddy lately? For supper, perhaps? I’m sure he’d love to touch-up his little puppet.” That ought to ward him off for the time being. Anyone who was anyone knew that Draco Malfoy did not play nice when his family was brought up. He had made that entirely clear back at Hogwarts, perfectly at ease to dissuade anyone willing to try with a well-placed hex. “You know,” she continued cruelly, adding fuel to the fire, “before your play date at Uncle Voldie’s graveyard.” She was banking on Draco being too bothered to pull on magic in such a public place.

The laugh Draco expelled was nothing short of an icy cackle and sent a visible shiver down Ginny’s spine. She certainly knew how to hit where it hurt the most, and his father was a definite sore spot. But Draco had matured, and it would take more than that to break through his impenetrable façade. He would never disclose such information to her so easily, and he found it much more amusing to be on the offensive side of the argument rather than respond to her taunts. Draco hadn’t missed her evasion of the barb about her family, and was positive there was more to it than simple familial differences. Deciding to leave that alone for now and ponder it later, he kept up with her ridiculous comebacks. “Why do you care where I choose to eat? Or are you just scrounging around for an invite to come over for a meal? I’m sure you could sneak a few biscuits into your napkin to take home to the cave, or wherever it is you’re staying.”

With brief consideration, Ginny realized that this little insult match was getting absolutely nowhere, and the look on Draco’s face told her that he was just getting started. Frozen in place as they were, the street was absolutely brimming with people taking off for their respective lunch breaks. All of the arguing was starting to draw attention, something Ginny was definitely not appreciative of. After a few deep breaths, she was calm enough to think somewhat clearly and force herself to ignore his bait. What she needed was a plan; after all, her primary purpose of being here was to keep her job, regardless of Draco Malfoy’s presence in the situation.

Unfortunately, Ginny was not one to be quick on her feet. In fact, she was quite the opposite. Aside from her irrational bouts of temper, Ginny hardly ever had anything witty to contribute. She needed time to come up with something that Draco couldn’t refuse, no matter what. “Couldn’t think of anything better to make fun of, after all this time, Malfoy? I must admit, it’s a bit disappointing.” Flashing him a quick sneer, Ginny turned on her heels before he had a chance to reply and continued walking in the direction they had been headed before. It might have been years since she had even encountered the prat, but there was one thing she knew for sure: Draco Malfoy always had to have the last word. Cocking her head to the side, she only had to wait a few seconds before she heard his quick gait following after her.

><><><

Draco had led them to the classiest and most popular restaurant in town, and while he didn’t feel at all out of place—the host knew him by name and they were seated immediately—he could see the little Weasley girl regarding her personal attire with a frown, shooting him looks of reproach. Although they had bickered along the entire three blocks it had taken to reach the restaurant, Draco hadn’t said a word since they were seated aside from ordering them both a glass of wine, knowing that his silence would bother her; the more uncomfortable she was, the easier it would be to find and push her buttons. And judging from her current fidgety state, she was just itching to break the silence. Perfect.

Until she said something (as he had no intentions of speaking before her) he looked for something to do. But as he looked around the bustling restaurant, Draco soon found his eyes wandering back to her face, despite Ginny refusing to meet his gaze. She wasn’t necessarily under his radar back at Hogwarts, but she hadn’t gone completely unnoticed due to her disgusting relationship with her brother, the Weasel King. The thought drew a wrinkle in his nose, and he grabbed for his wine glass to wipe away the recollection. While taking a small sip of the decidedly fantastic drink, Draco peered over the edge of his glass to find Ginny mirroring his actions (although she downed a considerably larger amount).

Her graceful movements seemed to occur in one continuous motion, a harsh comparison to the clumsy, freckled girl he remembered. Her hair had dimmed from the bright carrot-top hue to a shimmering copper, forming rippled waves that flowed seamlessly over her shoulders. The eyes that had glared so intensely at him before had left him momentarily speechless (an opportune time to challenge her to a staring contest): they were framed by thick lashes, defined brows, and the color resembled a bottomless pool of warm honey. She had grown into that gangly body and, while she was still at least a head shorter than his six-foot-two stature, she had filled the frame of her freckled skin with lush curves that should be illegal to flaunt. And that’s exactly what it seemed like she was doing, the tease. Obviously Draco hadn’t been far off when he had questioned Geoff’s sanity before—Ginevra Weasley’s feminine wiles were a force to be reckoned with. He was positive that the tight blouse and skirt getup that hugged every willing curve were meant for nothing more than pure torture. Clearly, a persuasive technique on her part. With the new splendor of her body in mind, Draco couldn’t help but recall the delectable view of her arse as she had stomped away from him just thirty minutes ago. It drew a smirk upon his full lips and the action drew her attention to his face with undeniable speed.

“What’s so funny, Malfoy?” Ginny snapped reflexively, finally giving in and cracking the unbearable silence.

Draco chose to ignore her query, highly uninterested in arguing with her. He’d much rather send her home with her tail between her legs or, better yet, have her begging him to let her stay. It would certainly be a fun challenge to see how long she could last in the hot seat. Giving her a purposeful and obvious once-over, his lip curled just the slightest bit, Draco took on the role of a haughty rich man. After all, wasn’t that what she saw in him? “So, your company is interested in a merger with Opulentia Enterprises.” It was posed as a statement, though the way he said it gave no indication of it being anything other than a pathetic joke. “Why?”

The change in Draco’s demeanor was instantaneous, and Ginny found herself grasping for a response. To give herself time to think, she slowly straightened her back against the chair and took another sip of her wine, which she found to already be half gone. “Was it not obvious from the proposal that was drawn up?” she hedged awkwardly.

“That proposal, as you so call it, was nothing more than poorly hidden groveling,” Draco replied, shaking his head. “No, I want to know why I, Draco Malfoy, should even bother working with this...Volley Farce—”

“Volte-Face,” Ginny interrupted, doing very little to disguise the irritation in her voice.

He fluttered his hand in the air to show the correction was meaningless to him. Provoking Ginny Weasley was going to be easier than he had imagined. “Yes, well, how could your miniscule company in any way benefit my established enterprise?” Draco asked snidely, sure to emphasize the difference in their ranks. “Opulentia Enterprises is one of the premiere labels for all concoctions: styling products, medicinal supplies, baking goods, beauty merchandise. What could you possibly have to offer?” There was no way for her to beat around the bush on this one, and Draco waited with an impatient tapping of his foot for her to provide a valid suggestion.

But no qualm was evident in Ginny’s voice as she replied; her tone was actually bordering on fury. She had not taken a plane to a side of the world she had never wanted to encounter again just to be squashed like a bug beneath the demeaning foot of Draco Malfoy. And she certainly hadn’t worked her arse off for seven years at a company that wasn't worth something. But Ginny’s face was the picture of virtue, with only the livid edge of her voice to give away her true emotions. “Malfoy, you may have your tacky green logo slapped onto any bottle within a one-hundred-mile radius of your establishments, but the fact of the matter is that you have no creativity,” Ginny accused graciously. She waited for him to interrupt her, but found the slight elevation of his brows as a sign to continue. “You might be giving the best of the best, sure, but that’s just the necessities. Beauty, health, appetite...what about the things that people really want?”

While Draco seemed to be watching Ginny silently, inside his mind was screaming. His words seemed to have had the opposite effect than what he had intended. In fact, rather than cowering in defeat, she seemed to have already one-upped him. He was frantically searching for something witty to reply with before she noticed his unusual silence and took it to mean indecision rather than indifference. Schooling his features into an apathetic expression, Draco leaned back in his chair and practically whispered, “So what, pray tell, do people really want?” And what could I possibly have overlooked? he added silently.

Ginny couldn’t keep the smug look from her face: she already had Draco’s interest in the palm of her hand. While his stance conveyed nothing but pure nonchalance, she could detect the curiosity in his query. And it was to be expected; honestly, since when was there something that Draco Malfoy didn’t have? There was a small part of her that wanted to wait and discuss this with Geoff present—he seemed very good at taming the sinister side of Draco. But that part was a very small part and the rest of her couldn’t help but rise to the challenge, the idea of waving her flag of victory in Malfoy’s face a glorious image.

Ginny was enjoying this feeling, of having something that someone else wanted, and the power of it kept her from revealing her hand too soon. “The company Volte-Face is known for its unique ability to peg what the consumer truly desires,” Ginny remarked, ignoring the look of impatience on Draco’s face as she reiterated her proposal. She spoke passionately and in low tones, as though he were a confidant and they were trading secrets. “Our potions have never been known to be unsatisfactory in any way—we have a one-hundred percent guarantee. Each customer is evaluated, interviewed individually, and, based on their request, provided with what they truly want.” Although all of this had been stated in the offer she had provided for Geoff, Ginny felt that this pitch to Draco was more of a deciding factor. Even with Geoff’s obvious agreement and enthusiasm, he had also explained in all seriousness that nothing went through unless both partners agreed on it. And Draco had to agree. Her job depended on it. “While your concoctions, as you called them, certainly leave no higher quality to be desired, they lack any kind of originality,” Ginny explained in a gentler voice. Might as well let him down easy, since she wouldn’t be sending him on an ego trip anytime soon.

“So, what then?” Draco cut in, not reacting well to having his work degraded. It had taken years to build up the respect and value his label held, and he did not see any flaws. “You have them take a survey? Favorite color, prettiest flower, smells that reek, favorite foods, parts that hurt; I could do that without paying you to get it done for me,” he decided. “You’d better think up something better than that, Weasley, because your originality is below average.”

Angered at the insult despite her confidence on the subject, Ginny glared at the man before her who was looking too bloody good for a stinking ferret. “Fine, Malfoy. I’ll make you a deal,” she said hotly, not to be discouraged. He was not going to get off that easily. “If I can make you a potion, one that meets your requirements, then you give me the merge. You’ll experience the average process my company vigorously maintains and be satisfied beyond all reason,” she ensured him.

The bored smirk upon Draco’s face did nothing to show his actual interest in her “vigorous process”, but he couldn’t help but accept the offer. “It’s a deal,” he agreed, and he could have been the cat eating the canary for all his satisfaction. She would never get it right, he was sure, and her impending disgrace was an offer entirely too amusing to pass up. “Now, exactly how long does this take?” he continued in a harsher tone. “I’m a busy man, and I don’t have hours of time to answer your petty questions.”

“Well, with your cooperation it should be completed within two weeks. Our standard time allotment is three days, but seeing as I have no equipment with which to work, the potion will take longer to create,” Ginny calculated. “Although, since you seem to be so overworked, I suppose that the evaluation process could be done when you are free, during mealtimes perhaps?” Her rhetorical speculation was hardly directed towards Draco, though he took that as a sign to reply.

“Still lobbying for that supper invite, Weasel?”

><><><