Ivy's POV

"So you think that they'll prefer these colours?" I hold up the booklet, taking a sip of my coffee, even though it was so cold.

"Yeah, I mean, they're young." Benedict says. "And pretty out-going. I am pretty sure they would like the thrill of mask and a nice masquerade ball." I lean back.

"She did say she was into classics. Miss Jones specified that. Mr Hilton... I'm not sure about."

"Oh he's somewhat if a bad boy." Lifting my eyebrow, I snort.

"B-bad boy? Seriously." I snigger.

"No, I didn't mean it in that way..." I nod my head slowly and smile.

"No, no I mean... I didn't realise under that sweet and innocent exterior, there was someone who was just not so innocent after all!" Benedict chuckles.

"Well, you don't know me yet Ivy. Maybe some day, you'll discover me more." I fold my arms.

"Well, it is kind of my job to know things about my employee."

"I guess, because you're the boss." I nod, tilting my head.

"Yeah, but... personally too. It's like Lucy. We met here and became friends. It isn't always professional work." He smiled.

"Is that a hint?" I gasp.

"No..." I say, licking my lips.

I would love to know who people were.

Benedict was different, be actually cared, unlike the bastard who made Liv die.

Reflecting on that, I fiddle with my necklace, bowing my head.

Benedict leaned forward.

"Can I ask-"

"No." I say jokingly and he smirks.

"No." I say jokingly and he smirks.

"That necklace... who gave it to you?" I take a deep breath and tense my cheekbones.

"Liv... Liv gave it to me."

"I'm sorry..." He sinks into his chair.

"No, it's... fine." I scoff. "You don't need to keep apologising."

"I... should, okay, it was my fault that you had these memories triggered from your consciousness."

"Don't worry about it okay." Shrugging, I look around me. "Every day, everything here, reminds me of Liv." I face him. "Not just you." I sigh. "Besides, Emily reminds me every waking moment. She's my daughter and Liv was there for me."

"Look..." Benedict slides his hands down his face. "Emily... her father... you don't... recall... anything?"

I frown, why is he asking?

"What?"

"Never mind." I had something on my mind too.

Emily's Father.

It couldn't have now been a coincidence that she looks like Benedict.

Destiny finds us all in the end.

"Actually, I wanted to ask."

"Ask away." I bow my head, simpering.

"Tom and you..." I lift my head. "... how did you both meet?"

"Me and Tom..." He widens his eyes.

"I know an actor, but, you two don't seem as if you have seen each other a few years back."

"Yeah." He laughs.

"You seem good friends." Emphasizing my point, Benedict smiles smugly.

"We are."

"When?"

"College."

"Really?"

"Yes." Okay, I had no idea where this was going, but it feels like one word answers...

"Nice."

"I know." Time to speak properly now.

"Did you... ever attend a masked party with Tom?" Benedict darted his head towards me.

I'd take that as a yes.

"W-why?" All of a sudden, his body language changed. He was tensed and nervous.

"Just asking. I... I went to something like that you see."

"Oh... right. Well, yeah, I did."

"With Tom?" I ask, curiously.

"Yes... I did." Closing one of my books, I keep talking.

"Did you meet two girls? With masks?" He scoffs.

"I met lots of girls in masks that day..." That pinpoints one day. He didn't like it.

"But, ones you stopped and talked to? With Tom by your side?"

"Well... I did stop and talk with many girls..." How could I narrow it down.

"Two girls. One with a black and silver mask, the other purple and red?" A crease had formed in between Benedict's eyebrows.

There was the sign.

Benedict's POV

How could she possibly know?