"Uh...yeah." Kaija raised a hand awkwardly. "That'd be me."
He raised an eyebrow. "Who are you?"
"I'm here for, uh... an interview," she said. And possibly for signing myself up for a slave contract with your boss, she thought, but she'd rather leave that part out.
"Name?"
"Kaija."
"You've slept with Charles?"
Her brows furrowed. "Excuse me?"
"That old fox let you in before me," Karl said lightly, "What other reason could there be?"
"Look, I didn't sleep with anyone," she retorted. "I'm not an escort, mister."
"Of course, you're not. You dress a little too cheaply to be an escort."
Crack.
That was the sound of the image of the great and talented Karl Hanski that she looked up to — whose songs drove her through endless late-night study sessions — completely shattering into pieces.
"It's quite refreshing to see that old fox had changed his taste these days, I must say," Karl went on. "How long did he last, though?"
Kaija turned to the receptionist with her brightest smile. "Sorry, but is there a different waiting room? I don't enjoy breathing the same air as scums."
Karl's angelic face darkened at once. "What did you just say?"
He leaned forward, glaring up at her, his tone dropping to a guttural growl. "Listen, cutie. You're not the first woman to come here begging for that old fox's attention. Don't think so highly of yourself."
"And you," she shot back coldly, "don't think you're such a superstar that I'd let you rub your dirty slanders in my face. You think you're so great yourself? Sorry, but your music is only good for putting me to sleep."
Karl shot up from the couch, storming toward her with a face that screamed, I'm going to kill you right here, right now, with my bare hands.
She met his murderous glower head on. With that towering height, he did look a bit intimidating, but his baby face wasn't helping him. She felt more like she was facing a toddler throwing a tantrum because his mommy didn't give him enough attention rather than being threatened.
The receptionist quickly jumped in between them. "Please, please! There's another waiting room," she said, then turned to Karl. "Karl, please wait here." Then back to Kaija again. "Ms. Sepala, please come with me!"
She gave him one last pitying look before following the receptionist out of the room. She wished she could see what kind of face Karl was making behind her.
In the large conference room, Charles sat waiting at the head of a long table. He looked every bit the powerful executive he was, in that same black suit and his usual icy expression, but he seemed more tense today. Before Kaija had entered, a few guys in black suits had filed out. Maybe he'd just had some high-level board meeting, she thought.
"Kaija." He gestured her to come closer. "Make yourself comfortable."
She walked over and took the seat nearest to him. His expression eased slight once she sat down. She almost thought she'd imagined it. That musky, leathery scent was stilling clinging onto him, striking her senses.
"What do you think of our facilities?" he asked, fingers laced together, studying her intently with his silvery eyes.
"Everything's top quality, Mr. Kosonen," she replied coolly. "But I have to admit, I'm more interested in what you wanted to discuss with me."
His lips curved faintly. "I like that straightforwardness."
He pressed a button beneath the table. A few seconds later, a woman in her thirties entered. Her umber hair was twisted neatly at the nape of her neck, her face even more severe than Charles's. She placed two thick stacks of papers onto the table, bowed deeply to him, and left the room just as quietly way as she'd come.
"That was my assistant, Camille," Charles said, pushing one document toward Kaija. "Here's my adjusted offer. I'll settle that S$200,000 for you upfront as a down payment, if you agree to sign with KE."
"I'm afraid I'll have to decline your offer, Mr. Kosonen."
His face tightened at once.
"Here's my offer," she went on, arms folding squarely on the table. "I'll sign with KE. But I want to pay off that debt myself."
She had no desire to be in debt to such an unpredictable man, who had made so many questionable decisions within such a short time.
A smile spread across Charles's lips. "Then let's proceed that way," he said simply.
She gave him a lukewarm smile back. "So, how do I start?"
"You'll need to go through some basic training first," Charles replied, his tone casual like discussing weather. "How long it takes depends on your progress. But with your gift, I doubt it'll take long. My assistant already included all the details about the training and everything beyond in that contract. Have a look."
Kaija eyed at the document wearily. After all the paperwork she'd been forced to read lately, another thick stack only made her want to scream.
For the next thirty minutes or so, she went through every line, while Charles poured himself a cup of tea and sipped it like he was sipping cocktails on a beach. According to the contract, she'd have to stay in the campus during training. There were dorms for both trainees and signed artists. Meals and expenses would be covered. She'd also receive a small monthly stipend of S$10,000.
Woah, wait — ten thousand S dollars?
That wasn't a small stipend at all?! That was double her flight attendant salary! So this was what it meant to be a talent at KE? She should've said yes the first time he asked!
She stole a quick glance at Charles. He caught her gaze and smirked faintly, like he could read exactly what she was thinking. "You're done reading?" he asked.
She swallowed hard and set the document down. "I'll follow your arrangement, Mr. Kosonen. Should I sign it now?"
For a while, Charles only looked at her in silence. Then he said, "Before you do, I have one more request."
"A request?" she echoed, already feeling wary.
"Would you sing a song for me?"
She blinked, eyes widened in disbelief. "Sing? For you? Like, now?"
"If you don't mind," he replied coolly. "Or we could move somewhere more comfortable."
"That won't be necessary," she said quickly, waving him off. Her imagination had already ran wild at somewhere more comfortable.
"Which song would you like to hear?" she asked.
His lips curved into a faint smile. "Something deserving of the contract we're about to sign."