A Billionaire for Christmas - Page 242
“This way,” he says and starts walking, the sound of his oxford shoes smacking against the granite echoing off the walls.
The inside of the estate is just as stunning as the outside with rich red walls and marble stone floors.
I hurry my steps to catch up to him. “This is your family’s estate?” I ask to get my mind back on track. The little pieces of Kulls history Brant gave me were interesting. I could whip up something interesting about companies that have been passed down through generations and stay within families, easily tying this story to a relevant family company back in Philadelphia.
I nod my head and sneak a look to my left at him. That could be a good spin. Related, yet interesting to compare. Although I’m much shorter than Alec, my strides are in time with his as I follow him down a long corridor past several closed doors and into an office.
Or maybe a library. My Lord. Alec stops behind a large oak desk covered with stacks of papers, devoid of a computer or any technology at all. Behind him are a set of three large windows, the towering mountains and pine trees making it seem as though they’re paintings and not a vista of the outdoors. The telling sign that it’s the actual view is the snow that’s started falling and sweeping across the sky in the breeze.
My purse slowly slips from my shoulder and lands with a thud on the intricate, darkly colored, handwoven rug. The walls to my left and right are lined with bookshelves and what must be thousands of books.
My lips part, my mouth hanging open, but I don’t even know where to begin.
“You’re out of your element, Miss Travers?” Alec’s voice caresses my consciousness, and I dare to look him in the eyes.
“I am,” I tell him honestly. I’ve worked for Sharon for three years now, assigned an interview every other week or so. I’ve been blown away a few times, but nothing like this.
His lips twitch again, although he keeps the smile at bay. “Please, have a seat. Unless you’d like to explore first?” He cocks a brow, waiting for my response and gesturing to the shelves of books.
I shake my head with a tight smile and pull my blouse down so that it covers the tight black leggings to nearly my knees.
“Tea first?” Alec offers as I settle into the leather seat, my hands gripping the carved armrests. “No, thank you,” I reply as he pours a cup on the other side of the desk. I watch as the steam rises, and the soft sound of the tea spilling into the cup is soothing. The clink of the porcelain cup hitting the saucer almost makes me wish I’d said yes.
My brown boots come up mid-thigh and brush against one another as I cross my legs. “May I have a look around once the interview is over? I’m curious to see the estate.”
Alec nods once and walks around the desk to take the seat next to me, surprising me. I clear my throat and angle the chair to face him just as he does.
“Of course,” he says, leaning back with his right ankle on his left knee and his hands clasped in his lap. “Whenever you’d like.”
“Thank you,” I tell him as I bend down and pick up my notebook and pen. “I really appreciate it.”
“No recorder?” he asks and I shake my head. I flip through the pages and find where I left off with Brant, making a clean line and writing Alec’s initials where the break starts. “I prefer this way,” I explain.
“Alright then… Lila.” He says my name as if it’s a way to tease me. I raise my eyes to him, the pen still on the notepad. “What would you like to know?”
With his father in mind, I ask a question I hope will put him at ease and allow me to uncover new details about the Kulls. “Your business is family-run from what I’ve read?”
He nods his head once, running his thumb along the tips of his fingers. “Myself and my two brothers, Marcus and Elliot.”
I scribble their names down and ask, “And before you three, did your father run it with his siblings or was he an only child?”
“My father did everything on his own. He was an only child and alone most of his life.”
I lift my head to look into his eyes as I say, “Alone?” Alec only nods in response.
My back settles against the leather as I give him a small smile and ask, “Could I take you up on that offer for tea, Mr. Kulls?” My voice is soft and sweet.
He smirks at me, rising from his seat, but not answering me. As he pours the tea I watch the snow falling behind him, covering the already white ground.
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