Her Life with the Prince (Completed)

XXXII

XXXII 

"Shirley," I looked up at Clarissa, who walked toward me, holding some papers. I was fixing my things on my table in the office before I went down to my room to rest for the day. It was almost dinner but I did not feel hungry because all I could think was the monthly financial report tomorrow and the preparation for year-end financial report this coming December. "I told you to go to my office to get these," she said in irritation.

"Sorry," I responded instantly, "I thought I'll go there after dinner. It seems like you brought it to me."

"Yes," she put the papers in my hands, "I don't know why the soft copies of these transactions had gone in your computer. It's supposed to be there." She stared at the blank space, as if predicting the possibilities.

There was a problem with all Prince Alexander's financial reports, the month before I became his accountant. There was an account that was recorded, but no receipt, at least a piece of paper to support the transaction. It appeared in almost all the reports. I tried to recover in the computer, even the transactions, but it was deleted. Someone might delete it. I needed to compile and assured the financial statements of this year in the year-end report. Thank goodness, Clarissa found a copy somewhere.

I opened the folder, and scanned the document, "You said that the main accounting office have lost their copies, too."

In the corner of my eye, I saw she flinched. But she still answered, "Just thank me, Shirley, that I found one," she sounded defensive, "If not, you will repeat all the process. I doubt you'll have a correct report before this year ends."

"Well, thank you," I shrugged, "I'm bothered why these transactions were missing. There might someone who wants to sabotage His Highness." I concluded for the past days while thinking how the things written on these papers were missing.

She avoided eye contacts, but moved closer to me. She whispered, "Don't tell him that I still have these copies."

"Huh," was all I could say. I was confused in all odds of the past week.

She gazed at me, again, "Tell him that there is still a copy in your room," her stares were directly giving my eyes a warning, "And whatever you will see in that document, don't ask me about it. Even him. You should not tell it to anyone."

"Of course, I know the essence of confidentiality," I stated flatly.

"That is not what I mean," she lowered her voice more, "If you want to protect him, you'll do anything even forgetting your profession."

I laughed nervously, "I don't get it, Clarissa, what do you mean?"

She shook her head and said, "Never mind." Then, she left.

I followed her exiting the office through my gaze. I could not find a word to say. I wanted to ask her, but nothing formed in my unquestioning confused brain. Her statements were out of this world. Or, maybe, I could not understand what she meant.

I went to my room to take a rest. Since, I still had thirty minutes before dinner, I could review these papers in my sanctuary. Clarissa's alarming words kept on playing in my head. What did she want to say? Was she hiding something?

Once I was in my room, I switched on my laptop. My family or Lola might be online. It would make my feelings better, if I was going to chat with them.

It was satisfying to have my family moved out of that small apartment after I received my salary three days ago. My salary was enough to make them rent a better house, and bought the things they needed. They also bought a personal computer to easily connect with me. I was happy last night to see them again (in the video though) since I left for my work here. All of them were so happy, and I saw in the view how their new house was more comfortable than the former.