This document needs to be delivered today," Celeste, my supervisor, said as she dropped an envelope on my desk. Looking up from my computer, I replied, "Okay, to who and why can't any of our interns do that?" I'm a low-level worker in this company, but I've been here for 18 months. Shouldn't this task be for newbies?
"That's because it's an important document. The CEO of Frost Holdings finally signed off the deal, and you, my dear, are going to handle that. So don't let me down," Celeste said and walked off.
Well, that does it. I'm going regardless, I thought. My phone beeped and it was Celeste texting me the place and time for the meet. "Well, this can't be bad," I said.
I stood at the entrance of the La Corza restaurant for the supposed meeting, staring inside this high-end restaurant like I had stepped into another world. Gold furnishings, glass walls, and also a rooftop overlooking the city skyline, this one's for the rich rich, I thought.
I tightened my grip on the documents to deliver to a client "a special client" my company had called it and I wanted to dash in and out as quickly as I could. I felt so out of place in a restaurant like this.
Brushing my hair in place, I walked in, scanning the restaurant for this client. "Where is he or she, for Christ's sake?" I thought. And then suddenly a crash! The restaurant went silent in seconds.
A waiter carrying a tray filled with drinks had slipped and crashed into me, spilling the contents of the glasses on my clothes and shoes, and before I could even collect myself, I heard someone groan angrily beside me. I turned and my eyes met the most intense pair of eyes ever the darkest shade of blue, sharp jawline, obsidian hair and he was the most handsome man I had ever laid my eyes on. He looked rich and not over 35, and the custom-made suit and Patek Philippe watch he wore cost my two-years salary. And he looked pissed.
"I'm so sorry, ma'am, are you alright?" the waiter rushed toward us and asked, looking pitiful.
"It's fine, I'm okay," I answered, trying to clean myself up.
"Who is responsible for this establishment?" the rich man's voice thundered through the room.
A manager came rushing toward us. "Sir, I-I was…"
"You are responsible for this mess," he said, his eyes fixed on me.
My eyes widened. "Me? I was literally standing right next to you."
"You caused this. You were standing here looking around for God knows what and disrupting the business of the restaurant, looking for attention."
I felt heat and anger rise through my face. "I didn't touch anything, okay? The waiter fell and bumped into us!"
"Save your excuses. Do you know how much my suit costs? More than your entire life," he snapped.
I saw red. I took a step forward, my chin up. "I don't care how much your suit costs, mister. You have no right to humiliate me. I won't let you talk to me like I'm some trash."
All eyes were on us at this point. Who the hell does this man think he is? I thought.
The rich man leaned in closer until I could feel his breath on my skin. "Then maybe you should stay where you belong. Or maybe you're here for a sugar daddy, you slut."
My hand moved before I could think, and it connected with his face. A slap.
Horrific gasps emanated from the restaurant, phone cameras were up video-taping this squabble, and time seemed to freeze.
His jaw clenched. His eyes were filled with shock and rage. No one ever touched Liam Frost.
I met his stare without even blinking. "You'll never, ever speak to me that way," I whispered.
His lips curled into a smirk, a cold, dark one. "Oh, dear," he said softly. "I don't make mistakes. But I promise, after today you'll regret ever meeting me."