Chapter 15
**James POV**
***A few hours ago, that Saturday morning***
James came back from the trek to his past, when he heard the creaking of the door.
"Agatha", James called her before she could leave.
"Yes, Mr. McKenzie?", she turned back looking up-to him expectantly.
"You will be there, won't you?"
"Of course, Mr. McKenzie. I need to clean the vases present in that room".
"Thank you", James said with all the gratitude he could muster.
James composed himself once Agatha left. Twenty-eight years! And still, he needs to brace himself before meeting that woman. She may have given birth to him, but the only mother he ever knew is Agatha. He wishes he could throw her out and never see her face.
James looked at her from the top of his stairs. Perla McKenzie is a woman in her late 60s. However, due to her lifestyle and the abuse she did to her body in the name of style and status when she was younger, she resembles a woman in the '80s. Old and wrinkled. People may pity her if they didn't see the glint in her eyes that couldn't hide her cruel nature. She wore a grey suit with a side hat. Platinum bracelets dangled from her hands; an emerald necklace laced her neck. No doubt they came from his wallet.
Currently, she is sitting on the chair, flipping the magazine that was laid on the table for the visitors.
'Perla', James said as a matter of greeting when he reached within a few steps of her. Perla didn't seem surprised. She carefully put the magazine back on the table before looking at him taking her time. To the people who don't know any better, they would get intimidated and would have started to squirm. Not James. He watched her tactics growing up. In fact, he himself applied that tactic in the office from time and again, so he waited with his face composed. James refused to sit and chat as if they were discussing the weather. Instead, he stood within a distance of her showing his dominance.
His impeccable eyes and inscrutable countenance gave little away. He stood erect like a statue as if ice-water were coursing through his veins. He was reserved and very reticent, cold in the manner and not sympathetic. There was, too, a certain Calvinistic austerity about him.
"I don't have all the time in the world, Perla. Talk before I send you away. My time is valuable", James mocked her deliberate display of superiority while checking his watch to show he meant it. James wore a button-down shirt and black pants that are pressed with not a wrinkle in sight. Though he is spending his weekend at his house, he dresses in formals. It's his usual attire. He rarely wears jeans or shorts.
Agatha was already present and was cleaning in the background. She started to wipe the imaginary dust at a slow pace that any onlooker can guess she is pretending it. Agatha will make a terrible actress, James thought to himself.
"James, do we need to have this conversation in front of the help every time", Perla screeched as her opening line. James lifted an eyebrow at the audacity of this woman who tries to disrespect one of his people in his own house.
"You and I both know Agatha is not going anywhere. So, get to the point. Don't be a snob, Perla. You must be careful with what you say. I may not like the way you address her. And you know very well what happens when I dislike something", James gave a veiled threat.
"Yes, of course. How could I forget? You think more about the hired help...I mean Agatha's sensibilities than your own mother", Perla jabbed back.
"Really, Perla, we are going through this route? You and I both know you were never a mother to me and will never be. So, stop throwing that word around. It doesn't carry any weight. In fact, it may reduce your chances. You may have to perpetuate lies for the sake of appearance, not me. And since when do you have any sensibilities?", James cut her pretence off as he spoke each word with a chillness that can turn Atlanta to the North Pole.
"Very well. I don't have time for this unnecessary prattle. I have people to meet, places to go", Perla wrinkled her nose displaying her snobbery. A bird can't change its feathers no matter how many new tricks it learned. Perla is like that.
"No doubt at my dime. Get to the point Perla. I'm losing patience", James snapped at her petulance.
"Considering how many times this happens, I don't think I need to spell it out James", Perla replied nonchalantly while she stood facing him.
"No Perla. I need you to spell it out. Clearly. Just like the last time and the time before that, like always", James folded his arms appearing incredibly intimidating in his relaxed posture.
"Do we have to do this James? That too before Agatha! Is that how you treat your mother? Where are your manners?", Perla snarled at him.
"You're testing my patience now, Perla. You want the money or not? Do you want the help I give you out of my generosity or not? If you want the money then you have to work for it. That's how the world works', James stressed his demand.
'I will remember this James. One of these days I will repay you this kindness with my very own dose', Perla vowed with all the vehemence she could muster.
"Threatening me is not the way to get money out of me Perla. First, you insult my staff and now you threaten me. What shall it be Perla? Do I have to escort you from the premises? Shall I call the police? Or are you going to do what you came to do here and take the money?"
"Fine James. Can you PLEASE give me the money this month?' Perla gritted out each word clenching her jaw.
"I think my ears are rusty Perla. They don't seem to catch a word you said. Maybe you can repeat it again", James said tucking at his ears.
"I will remember this James. I won't forget about this", Perla bit out, humiliation gnawing her insides. One day she will make him regret humiliating her like this. He will rue this day; she made a vow to herself.
