DEMI

I wake up to the annoying ring of an alarm that doesn't sound familiar. I know the sound of my alarm very well and it's usually less annoying. Now this one is from a fast and loud pop song I don't recognize. Why would I put an alarm like that? And when exactly did I set the alarm?

Im too sleepy to open my eyes, but the thought makes me jolt and my heart begins racing.

Jesus Christ!

Today is my interview day. My pupils almost pop out as I sit up. I turn sideways to shut the fucking alarm off. It's only when I hold the phone in my hand, do I realize, it's not mine. For a moment I'm confused. I've never seen that phone in my life. It's not even from any of my best friends.

I don't recall buying a new phone, especially since

this one looks like it cost a hundred times this apartment's rent, if the golden casing is any indication.

This is strange. Do I need an intervention? Since when does one wake up to an expensive phone beside them?

After a few seconds of thoughts, it dawns on me, what if there's a stranger in the house. I try to shuffle out of bed to inspect the house, when a sharp pain in my head reminds me of my situation. From deep sleep to being too stunned about the phone, the confusion must have hit a wire in my brain that I didn't immediately recall the events of last night.

Forget the sharp pain. My head weighs a ton. I feel thirsty, yet I'm disgusted by the thought of water.

Hangover!

I hate mornings with hangovers. They ruin my days.

I take in deep breaths to calm my racing heart.

Checking the time again, I have almost three hours before the interview. Pretty early if you asked me, considering I drank out last night...and... I had drinks with Gavin Morgan!

I really had drinks with Gavin Morgan!

My jaw still drops even though it's been hours.

Which would explain... I stare at the phone.

Did he leave the phone on purpose? Or did...he...spend...the night...

My pupils widen at the thought of the possibility.

If he did, then where is he? He's definitely the one with the most annoying alarm. The last thing I recall is, in addition to the tequila shots, I took the only wine left in the fridge, and started gulping it in huge swigs.

I get up quickly to try and find him, but the speed at which I get out of bed makes me feel the headache even more, and I'm still thirsty.

It's only then do I spot the glass of water on the nightstand and the medicines next to it.

I smile at the thought of this being Gavin's doing, because I'm pretty sure I wasn't the one who put that hangover care package there. However, I only tolerate it for a few seconds. Some things still don't add up.

While I'm headed to the kitchen I have this insane thought of the beautiful moments I've read in books and seen in movies, where the woman walks to the kitchen and is welcomed by a sweet aroma in the air, and then she finds the man preparing a very delicious breakfast.

Silly thoughts again.

I scold myself for thinking like that. My silly thoughts are proven wrong. Gavin is not in the kitchen, and neither is he in any other place in the house.

Is it strange that I feel disappointed he's not here?

I shouldn't. Gavin is a busy man. As he'd said last night was one of those days when he would decide to disguise himself and act normal. From the tone I was getting, that doesn't happen regularly.

There must be some shots of tequila still lingering in my head for me to have such silly, crazy thoughts.

Or wishful thoughts.

I'm still confused about the phone as I walk back to my room. I think about unlocking it to try and call someone, but it absolutely feels like a breach of privacy. Since I'm going for an interview at one of his companies, I decide to use the opportunity to find a way to make the phone reach him.

I've already wasted minutes, and if I keep on drowning in thoughts, I'll end up being late for the interview. After taking painkillers, I jump into the shower. As the warm water hits my body the events of the previous night replay in my head.

Not that having Gavin Morgan in my house wasn't a big deal, it just seemed too good to be true that I was having a hard time believing it.

I blush in the water when I recall how I'd asked him to fuck me. What was I thinking?

I want to put the full blame on the alcohol, but again, who would resist such a hot guy.

I also thought it would make me feel better, but it didn't, it just reminded me of Ernest and Laila's betrayal.

Gavin saw me cry.

He saw me in a very vulnerable state.

I take in deep breaths shutting my eyes.

I should get over myself. That was a one time thing. I shouldn't be having delusional thoughts.

He's a billionaire. He must have had so many women in his bed. There's no way he's still hang up on me. I'm just a common person. A stranger he met at the club.

In fact there's a high chance, he'll forget the events of last night like it never happened. That must not have been a big deal to him, right?

After hitting myself with thoughts of a harsh reality, I finally get out of the shower to get myself ready.

I do a very light l makeup and tie my hair into a ponytail.

I find an official blue dress with length slightly above the knee and match it with a black pair of heels.

Just something simple for the interview.

Before I leave, I call to check on my mother.

She's happy to hear from me. The first question she asks is the one I was dreading.

"How was your date?"

Even though the wound is still fresh, I'd promised myself not to cry again.

Still, my mum seems largely excited and I don't want to rain on her parade. Not when she's being discharged this evening. I wouldn't want to risk sending her back to the hospital bed.

"It was good." I lie, hoping she doesn't realize.

"Good? That's all? I was hoping for something eventful...Something big...Something like a proposal."

I'm doomed!

Totally doomed!

I can't believe those are the kind of thoughts mother has about Ernest. It breaks my heart even more. Though to be fair, mother has always held him with high standards and I guess it's because he saw me happy with him. He didn't just fool me. My mother is caught up in this too.

Breaking the news will be hard.

The more I stay in this call the worse it feels.

"I'll talk to you later, mum. I have an interview to catch," I divert the topic.

"Okay, honey. Make sure you do. I need all the details."

I shake my head and say, "I will."

"Wish me luck." I add.

"Of course. I know you've got this. You're my daughter."

"Thanks mum."

I hang up and prepare to leave.

I would send a text to the 'best friends' chat group, but the conversation would take forever. I haven't told anyone else about last night, and I'm not sure what's going on with Laila. Problem for another time.

I pick the important stuff, not forgetting Gavin's phone, and I rush out.

When I open the door, I almost jump out of my skin when I find a strange, intimidating beefy man in a black suit, standing at the door.

No, this is not normal. My heartbeats heighten as the worst possibilities swirl in my brain. It's not everyday you find a strange man standing at your door.

My first instinct is to quickly get back to the house and call for help.

DEMI

Seconds move fast. I can't take my chances when the man looks this intimidating. Why is he at my door this early?

I'm still floating in my temptation to get back in, when he smiles, leaving me confused.

"I mean no harm," he says, as if reading right through me.

As if that's easy to believe.

He raises his palms in surrender. "I'm just here on orders, ma'am."

My brown furrow. "Orders? Who the hell ordered you to stand at my door early in the morning?" I pry.

"My boss. Gavin Morgan. I'm sure his reputation precedes him."

The mention of Gavin's name piques my interest and oddly my heart feels a little calmer.

"What reputation do you mean? Ordering creeps to stand at people's doors?"

The man lets out a soft laugh.

"I meant, I'm sure you know who Gavin Morgan is. And yes, he ordered me to guard your house because he couldn't stay to take care of you. He had important things to take care of."

"Oh," I cross my arms, as I take in the implication of the man's words.

Gavin really did that for me?

"Besides," the man continues. "Even if I hurt you, I wouldn't live to see another day."

"Why is that?" I cock a brow.

"He would kill me. His orders were clear. And honestly, ma'am, it's been a while since he gave such orders."

Those words warm my heart even more. What did I do to deserve this treatment? Yet a while ago, I was thinking about how he must have already forgotten about me. How he must have so many girls in his radar, considering how hot he is.

Yet he did all this for me? He made sure I slept well, set up a glass of water and painkillers, knowing I would wake up with a hangover. Set an alarm for me so I wouldn't wake up late for the interview...

Speaking of alarms, now that one of his men is here, I should take the chance to give back the phone.

"Hey, I should give this back. Tell him I said thank you." I say handing over said phone.

The man switches glances between the phone and me.

"I can't take that ma'am."

"Why? And please stop calling me ma'am."

"He specifically ordered me to get it for you last night."

"Last night?" I'm puzzled. After chatting while drinking wine, everything else is blank. I can't place the events that followed. I don't recall Gavin doing all this.

"I can't keep it." I tell him.

"And I can't take it, ma'am."

"It's Demi," I correct him.

"I know," he says.

Oh well, I guess nothing should surprise me anymore.

"And I'm Edward.There's no need debating this unless you want me to get fired."

"Of course not," I mumble.

"Great. Let's get you to Springs Hotel."

"What?" I probe, confused, again. Am I still under the influence that I'm hearing my own things?

Seeing my confusion, he explains.

"Guarding the house weren't his only orders. He asked me to make sure you took a healthy breakfast before the interview."

"Oh." I'm flattered. He keeps doing that more and more. I don't deserve this.

"Edward, you really don't have to..."

"Oh, yes I have to. If I don't do that, he'll find out, and I don't want to get in trouble with him."

"How?"

"I have his credit card...Can we please leave?"

Do I have a choice?

________________

After one of the best breakfast, Edward drives me to Morgan Industries offices. I've visited this place a few times, but never actually went in. I only came when I had to pick Laila and usually waited outside.

The place is even fancier than I've seen in pictures and magazines. Everything screams serious business. Scanning the place, I understand why it's one of the biggest companies in New York.

Edward walks me to the reception where a friendly redhead with a warm smile leads me to the waiting area outside the offices on the tenth floor.

I'd expected dozens of applicants to be here, but oddly it's only me. A lot of questions run in my mind. Am I too early, or too late? I'm leaning so hard on the former. I can't afford to fumble this one. It looked so promising.

The redhead doesn't say anything. She ushers me to have a seat and then disappears, leaving me confused as hell.

I only last for a few minutes, when two familiar figures appear before me, holding hands.

If it isn't the last people I want to see.

Traitors.

"You're here," Laila says with a smirk.

I look away, not willing to stay in the same space as them.

"Demi, how are you doing?" Ernest asks, and I shoot him a sharp glare.

"Like you care," I snort.

"Of course, I care," he counters. A soft laugh escapes my lips.

Yeah, he and I have very different definitions of care. To him, care means cheating on me with my best friend.

I don't want to lose control, so I decide to control the anger riding inside me, so I may not explofe right before an important interview.

And I look away to mind my own business.

"I never meant for this to happen, Demi. I never meant to hurt you."

Taking me for a fool again, I see.

"No need to pretend, babe. She's always been a selfish bitch and I've had to tolerate that for a long time, right Demi?"

Silence.

"Demi, you became so unavailable and Laila and I..."

"Were fucking each other while I was desperately fighting for my life?" I cut in. "You know, the guilty always find excuses and excuses. What did I do to let you down, huh? Both of you can testify, I was there for you every time you needed me. I supported you, I loved you..."

A lump starts forming in my throat and gets painful every time I speak.

"Well, Demi," Laila cuts in. "There's no need to hide this anymore. Ernest and I hid this from you, because we cared about you. But we just can't hide how we feel for each other anymore."

All I do is laugh. "Congratulations," I say.

"Congratulations to you too. We saw the guy you came in with. It's hasn't even been twenty four hours, yet you're already fucking rich guys. Deep down I always knew you were a gold digger, hiding in that angelic face," Laila says.

I stare at the girl I knew to be my best friend for years. Someone I trusted, someone I confided in!

I don't respond to her insult. And when she sees that I'm ignoring her, she keeps on talking.

"Anyway, I hope you've heard. All other applicants were disqualified last night. Only two were left according to the boss' orders. Me and you. I wonder why they chose you, because clearly, I'm getting the job. No hard feelings, we both knew that from the beginning."

That's the first time I'm hearing of it. Since when does this happen in the job market?

That's strange and sudden.

Laila can't stop yapping about how she's fit for this and how I should just leave since we know what the outcome would be.

"What a perfect time to prove to Ernest that he made the right choice. And to everyone that I'm better than you, Demi Perez."

"Are you sure about that?" A familiar, deep sultry voice cuts through the air and we both turn to the direction it's coming from.

And there he is. Gavin Morgan, looking hot as usual, in a black suit

Seeing him, my lips involuntarily curve into a smile.

GAVIN

The previous night...

I wasn't kidding when I implied Demi Perez caught my attention at first sight, and evoked an immense amount of care I haven't felt before.

In one night, I've done innumerable things, including taking her home.

After she gulps down the last remaining glass of wine, it doesn't take long before she blacks out. I scan the house looking for the room that might be hers. I find the one that has pictures of her on the wall. I'm specifically captured by the one in which she's wearing a graduation gown, with the most beautiful smile, that a few seconds pass before I realize I've been standing in the same spot for longer than I should.

I get back to the living room and carry her to her bed. I cover her well, and then watch her sleep peacefully for a while.

I wish I could stay with her, it feels bad that I have to leave.

The best I can do is find someone to guard her door. I call one of my best men for the job, Edward.

I instruct him to get me a new phone and I send him the address. I can't use her phone because that would be a breach of privacy and I don't want her to wake up feeling betrayed. That is the reason why I get the new phone.

When he comes with it, I use it to set an alarm with the most annoying song that she wouldn't ignore the next morning. She'll have to wake up.

Even though I've already made my decision, I don't want her to beat herself up tomorrow morning in case she wakes up late.

I also get her painkillers for the hangover she might wake up with.

After ensuring everything is in place, and she's safe and sound, I leave, right after giving Edward my credit card with clear instructions.

"If anything happens to her, kill yourself before I do it myself," that's the last instruction I give Edward, even though I know he's the best at what he does, and I'd trust him with my life.

I head to Reagan's house and luckily for me, today is one of those nights where he pulls all-nighters.

His maid leads me to his study where I find him buried in paperwork.

I think one of the reasons we've been best friends for a long time is because we're both workaholics.

He raises his head when I walk in.

"If it isn't the most annoying friend on the planet," he drowls, spinning a pen in his fingers. "What are you doing in my house at this time of the night? Come to confess your feelings for me? I'd love to see your face when I turn you down."

I laugh as I take the seat opposite him. "How delusional does one have to be? And since when did you change your sexual orientation?" I ask, making myself comfortable.

"Anyway, jokes aside, why are you here?" He shifts to a more serious face.

"I have an emergency," I tell him.

"What happened?" His brows furrow, his face displaying concern.

"You know you're my best investigator, right?"

He smiles, "I told you you're in love with me."

"And I told you you're delusional. I need you to look into someone."

"Oh, you can leave me the details and I'll deal with it tomorrow." He says nonchalantly.

I lean forward with cocked brows, "I mean now."

He exhales loudly. "The things we do for love."

"Yet, I'm the one who's in love," I mumble under my breath.

"Who's he?" He probes, pushing away the load of papers before him, and replacing them with blank one.

"She." I correct him.

Reagan pauses everything and looks at me with widened eyes

"You want me to look into a woman at this time of the night? Did you suddenly develop an interest in a one night stand?" He asks.

This is what I have to deal with to get a job done.

"No, you idiot."

"Then, I can look at it tomorrow," he says, returning to his paperwork.

That's him trying to manipulate me, and somehow today, he's winning.

"Okay," I give up.

"It's a woman I met at the club tonight," I confess.

"Oh," he starts laughing which takes a while.

"We're finally going to have the real wedding?" He asks, sarcastically.

"Are you going to help me or not?"

Trying to look into Demi feels like a betrayal, but again I'd also love to know more about her apart from the paranoia that I have, thanks to my past experiences with traitorous women.

I narrate to my best friend about the events of the night leaving out details that involve emotions and those he would find funny.

"Okay, brother, let's get to know more about your future wife," he jokes, and I ignore.

"What do you know about her?" He asks, getting to his laptop.

"Apart from her name? Nothing much. Just that she's beautiful."

Reagan gives me a brief glance and then returns his attention to his laptop. "That's a first from you. Since when do you..."

"Just get the job done, Reagan."

I'm not about to explain to him the kind of interest I have in her.

"Going through her socials right away...aaand...Damn!" Reagan sighs and smiles.

"Now I get why."

"You're an idiot, you know that?" I mutter.

"That's why we're friends," he counters.

He moves to my side, and in the next few minutes we're looking at Demi Perez's beautiful pictures.

It's hard to lose concentration with each picture highlighting her beauty. A few of the pictures she's with her friends.

Makes me wonder which one is the traitor.

There's one man in most of the group photos. I'm almost jealous of how close they are.

I'm about to question when Reagan says, "he's gay."

"I thought so too."

There's also some romantic photos among them and I assume that's the traitorous ex. Seeing him in the pictures makes me want to tear him apart for hurting Demi.

"I want to know the traitor," I tell Reagan, who shoots a glare at me. "Yeah, and I also want to know your plans."

"Not happening," I snort.

"Cool." he lets go and I find it too easy to be true."Then I'll look into each one of them," he says, walking back to his chair.

After a few minutes, he slides the laptop to my side.

"That's Laila Wilson."

"This is the one who'd been sleeping with her boyfriend?" I inquire. "I mean ex boyfriend."

"That's not the only surprise. He works at Morgan Industries. Are you sure you've never seen this face before?"

"It's a big company. Am I supposed to know all the..."

"Oh, I forgot," he cuts me off.

"You said your Demi is set for an interview tomorrow? Well, Laila too. She was working at a lower level, I'm guessing she wanted to shift to a higher rank," Reagan concludes.

I nod and smile in realization.

Recalling Demi's tears and how hurt she looked, she didn't deserve it.

This woman on the screen is responsible for her tears. I'm going to have a field day tomorrow.

At the end of the day, I only needed one secretary. So I give Reagan the work of cancelling all other invitations and to leave only two interviewees. Demi and Laila.

And I'm going to interview them myself.