Never A Choice (The Choices Trilogy (Book 1)) by Dee Palmer Read Free Book Online Page B

out with his accusatory tone. The tension is palpable as the whole room waits for my answer. Mr Stone, however, merely taps his fingers lightly on the lectern and looks amused at my discomfort.
    “No I don’t want you to repeat the question. I just didn’t think stating the obvious was necessary but I see that it is. I’ll speak slowly . . . I am here for the Entrepreneur Lectures, Mr Stone.” I know my face is radiating enough to heat a small family home right now but I am pleased I have progressed from mute to indignant.
    “Hmm, thank you Miss Thorne but let me be more specific. Why are you here? I have your biography and I am asking why are you here . . . specifically?” He holds my biography in his hand like its contagious and the distain on his face as made my brief but righteous indignation vanish. I hate him so much right now but I can’t find any words to answer his question let alone tell him he is currently starring in my recurring school days nightmare. I might as well be naked too, just to complete my torture. “Allow me . . . Does this look like a reality show, are there hidden cameras, no? Do you think a background story will endear you to me? Do you think writing a wish list is appropriate? Do I look like Santa?” He steps down from the stage and has started to walk up the isle toward me. I hold my knees to stop them trembling and my knuckles are white from the effort.
    “No” I manage to speak. Its not loud but it is audible because the room is silent.
    “No?” He repeats but doesn’t stop his ascension.
    “I didn’t realise it was supposed to be a referenced journal. It’s just a biography.” I tip my chin and hold his gaze. He has reached the end of my row and my heart is thumping so hard I’m sure the whole room can feel it.
    “It wasn’t but I expected more . . . where’s your drive Miss Thorne? Where’s your fire? Where’s your passion?” He thumps his fist on the flimsy bench and makes the whole row of students jump from their seats. “Success in business isn’t about wishing and hoping, its about doing . . . until your fingers bleed, living and breathing every minute of everyday because if you don’t someone else will. It’s not enough, this . . .” he waves my solitary sheet high for emphasis, “is not enough.To succeed, what you have here . . . is not enough. So don’t waste my time Miss Thorne with prose that is better suited to a Liberal Arts degree.” He holds my paper and tears the sheet in two, then four and continues until the sheet falls to the floor in a sprinkle of tiny white flakes. His dark eyes seem to hold for endless seconds, waiting for my response. Fine, I can respond.
    “It’s not fiction. It’s not a wish list. It’s just a list. Its fact not a sob story, just the truth and the fact that you would showcase it and in front of everyone as a flaw, well, Mr Stone . . . no offence, but that kind of makes you an arsehole and if being successful means I have to be more like you, I’m happy to remain flawed and I am happy to fail.” I swear the entire student population took a sharp intake of breath but Mr Stone simply holds my gaze as if we are the only two people in the room. His jaw is tight but he doesn’t look angry, more like he is trying to suppress his amusement. There is something else in his eyes, an intensity I can’t fathom but it’s only a flash and it’s gone and briefly replaced with most breath taking smile I have ever seen. I think my heart stopped.
    “Interesting you would choose to caveat your insult.” He places both his palms flat on the bench and leans a little closer. Not that he is anywhere near me but the boy at the end of my row must be feeling his presence like a thunder cloud in the room. “How very polite of you Miss Thorne but I couldn’t possibly take offence when you have revealed that you do have passion after all, tempered as it is.” The way he says the word passion feels weighted and indulgent and it makes