Unknown

"Your time is up Miss Beacham," Mr Bradley shouts, slamming his large fist on the ornate mahogany desk before him. "I can't wait all day for you to tell me what you've decided. I'm a very busy man. So, what's it going to be?" he asks glaring at me with dogged determination crinkling the skin around his rugged deep-set eyes.

The sinister undertone in his question catches me off-guard. I can feel the tiny hairs on my skin bristle from the cold shiver running down my spine. I immediately stop reading the legal document in my hand and stare up at him. Confusion crosses my face as I struggle to think of any good reason for why he is treating me with such open animosity. Whatever his problem is, I don't really care, I just know I'm not going to let him intimidate me into making a hasty decision.

I clear the nervous lump in my throat, before telling him, "You must realise, this isn't an easy decision to make. After all, it's my life we're talking about." I cross my legs at the ankles and sit up a little straighter in the chair, trying to regain my composure.

"I am well aware of that, but, you did agree to have your decision ready by today's meeting. Isn't that correct?"

"Yes, but I didn't know anything about this contract, until I arrived here this morning. You can't expect me to sign it, before having the chance to read through it, first."

How the hell, did I get myself into this mess? If only I'd listened to my older sister's advice, I wouldn't be here now, forced into making a decision about my immediate future.

"It's not a very long document. You've had more than enough time to read through it by now."

"Yes, but I didn't know anything about the terms listed in the contract. There are a couple of conditions that I'm not sure I can agree to. I just need another few minutes to think them over, before I can give you my final decision."

"Fine! I'll give you another five minutes, but no more," he replies with some reluctance, his stern glare, a silent warning not to push him for any more time.

Unable to bear his , I shift my gaze to the clock on the office wall behind him. In the moments of silence that follow, I sit, my bottom lip clenched tightly between my teeth, as I listen to the tick, tick, tick.

The sound, seeming to grow louder in my ears, is like a time bomb about to go off. It rattles on my nerves, making it difficult to concentrate, while I worry my brain trying to come up with an answer, to give him.

I can feel the pressure building with every minute I continue to delay. My heart beats faster, knowing he is growing impatient for my answer. But the only thought occupying my mind, as I gaze around the office, is the cranky old lawyer and the large antique desk he is sitting behind, both seem oddly out of place in such a cold and sterile space, filled with the smells of new carpet and expensive glass and metal furnishings.

"Miss Beacham, stop wasting my time." Mr Bradley pushes his chair back and rises to his feet. "If you don't give me an answer now," he continues, his eyes never leaving mine, as he strides around his desk towards me. "I will have no choice but to give Mr Huntington a call. I don't think you'd want that now, am I right?" He stops directly in front of me, and then sits down on the edge of his desk, crossing his hands in front of him.

I know the decision he is expecting to hear, but still, I can't bring myself to give voice to the words. It's not the words themselves that fill me with dread, it's the consequences they will elicit.

I slowly place the neatly typed contract on my lap as I stare up into his eyes, knowing I'm all out of time. No more delaying. This is the final moment of truth. Do I say yes, or, do I politely tell him to go to hell?