"I…" Chelsea gave a small sob. Tears welled in the corners of her eyes. "I know, sir…"
"There, there, no need for tears," Richard said soothingly. "All is not yet lost. Miss Chester, you are a young witch, and with enough determination you can achieve a great deal."
"Hardly," Chelsea sniffled again, lifting her spectacles to wipe away her tears. "You were right, my Lord. Nobody needs me, and I can hardly hope for anything better than a job as a waitress. But at least I shan't starve, and thanks to your support I may even be able to afford somewhere to live. Thank you, Lord Grosvenor. Back at the orphanage, they used to say that if not for your charitable donations, our lives would have been far worse."
Naturally, Richie had absolutely no idea what his annual donations were actually spent on. Supposedly on orphans, certainly, but the exact details were handled by the charitable foundation. Still, the boy pretended he understood perfectly well what she meant.
"So then, Miss Chester, I would like a clear answer from you — are you prepared to work and study diligently for the sake of a future career?"
"Yes, my Lord," Chelsea replied, hope shining in the gaze she directed at Grosvenor. "Yes! But what—"
"I may have something to offer you," Richard couldn't suppress a grin worthy of the serpent in Eden. "Miss Chelsea, how would you feel about becoming Lord Grosvenor's personal assistant?"
"Huh?!"
The girl's eyes turned glassy, her jaw nearly collided with the tabletop, and the shock smoothed every trace of expression from her face.
"My personal assistant, Miss. Something akin to a secretary, though with broader responsibilities, a greater level of trust, and a far higher salary — comparable to that of a director managing a medium-sized company."
Chelsea swallowed convulsively. Astonishment was swiftly joined by delight and joy. Her heart hammered wildly in her chest; it seemed ready to leap right out of her body.
"Sir… is that true?" Chelsea asked breathlessly. "You are not joking?"
"I am not in the habit of making such jokes, Miss Chester. Despite my youthful appearance, I have already owned my own business for several years and have earned more than a hundred million pounds by this point. You ought to understand perfectly well whom you are speaking to."
"Forgive me, my Lord…"
"Miss, are you not even going to ask what you must do to obtain the position?"
A flicker of fear crossed Chelsea's face, soon replaced first by a measuring look, then by a mixture of nervousness and determination. She drew a deep breath and blurted out in one go:
"I'm willing to sleep with you, sir!"
That was not the answer Richie had expected. Unable to help himself, he burst into helpless laughter and nearly slid from his chair.
"Oh, Lord…" he gasped, wiping tears of laughter from his eyes. "Oh!" At last, he managed to sit upright again and stop laughing. "Miss Chester, you have surprised me. I cannot say you are not attractive, but in truth you shall have to exert yourself far more than merely spreading your legs."
"More?!" Chelsea's eyes widened in alarm as her imagination immediately conjured all manner of horrors — for instance, some sort of group debauchery with a crowd of wealthy youths.
"Yes, more," Richard nodded solemnly. "During the time I remain at Hogwarts, you are to complete a proper secondary education. Better yet, finish school entirely. Ideally, I would prefer you to attend university afterwards—or at the very least enrol in a correspondence course."
Never in his life had Richard witnessed such utter astonishment. The girl looked as though someone had thrown her, half-asleep, into an icy river. She had somehow managed to crawl back out, only to discover pitch darkness all around her. And now she simply sat there with glassy eyes, unable to comprehend what was happening, where she was, or what she ought to do.
"Go to school?"
"To school."
"To school?!"
"To school!"
"I agree, my Lord! But surely I would have to study externally, and that would cost money…"
"I shall pay for your external schooling, Miss Chester — and even for college, should it come to that. Naturally, that would come with one condition: you will work for me. We shall draw up a contract outlining everything properly. But…" Richard paused. "Miss, you will still need money to live on. Food, lodgings, ordinary expenses."
"Yes, sir, of course," Chelsea agreed readily.
"Therefore, Miss Chelsea, you shall go to work at the Ministry of Magic as an assistant to one of the department heads. You will gain experience there — and spy for me."
"But, my Lord…" Chelsea said in confusion. "No one would ever hire me at the Ministry of Magic!"
"We shall see. If Madam Bagnold becomes Minister for Magic — and I have certain hopes that she shall — then you will undoubtedly be accepted for practically any position within the Ministry. And should some unfortunate complication arise and Bagnold fail to become Minister, I shall simply employ you in my workshop instead."
"Thank you, my Lord!" Chelsea began thanking him fervently. "Thank you so very much! I promise I won't let you down! Sir, I would do absolutely anything for you!"
"That is not all," Richie continued. "Miss, this summer you shall work at Grosvenor's Workshop as an intern. You will live there as well, in one of the bedrooms, and meals shall be provided. Share your ideas regarding graphene applications with the wizards there — perhaps you may even come up with something new."
"My Lord…" Tears filled Chester's eyes once more, though this time from happiness. "Sir… I… I do not know how to express my gratitude. Thank you!"
"I am pleased we have come to an understanding. Miss Chester, I shall not detain you any longer."
(End of Chapter)
P@treon: /SadRaven
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