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Unlike my brother, I’d never thought about marriage or relationships. What if Giselle changed… No. No way. I shook the thought away before it could fester into something dangerous. Something like me wanting to make her mine.
A one-night stand was a one-night stand and nothing more.
Now stop thinking of that woman and get your head in order, dude.
I wore my suit and stared at my reflection in the mirror as I raked my fingers through my hair. A woman was the least of my worries right now. There were more important things to take care of, like the Italians.
But in the back of my mind, I couldn’t deny the thoughts blooming and making my heart skip several beats.
That woman, Giselle. Was I insane for wanting to meet her again?
Chapter 4 - Giselle
“Are you okay?” my best friend, Emma, asked, leaning over my cubicle. “You’ve been sleeping a lot at work, and you’re pale…as if you’ve seen a ghost or something.”
I threw a hand over my mouth as I yawned. “I’m fine.” I wasn’t fine. Two weeks had passed since I learned about Aaron cheating on me and proposing to another woman on my mother’s death anniversary.
I had tried to move on from the betrayal after the one-night stand with the handsome man from the club, but reality started to kick in days later when I heard Aaron and his fiancée were already preparing for their wedding.
“You’ve been this way for over a week now, Elle. Don’t you think you should see a therapist?” Concern marred her expression as she whispered so our colleagues at work wouldn’t hear. “You might get really depressed if you go on like this.”
A bitter smile touched my lips. I knew I was depressed already, considering all I wanted to do was sleep. I’d grown weaker, too tired to do anything except curl up in bed. “I’ll be fine.”
“Trust me, Elle, I want you to be fine.” She reached for my hand and squeezed it in hers. “But you need help. You look sick, drained and so out of it. I have a therapist I can recommend.”
“Emma, there’s no need for that,” I assured her. “I’m fine. Trust me.”
She opened her mouth to argue but closed it when Bella, our boss’s personal assistant, walked towards us. “Ms. Klein needs you in her office,” she said. “Now!”
Emma and I exchanged a glance. Bella somehow thought she was a mirror that had to reflect Ms. Klein’s mood. She appeared upset, which meant Ms. Klein wasn’t calling me to have tea and chat about life. I wouldn’t blame her though, I’d been slacking recently.
Bella walked off, and I followed her.
I disliked Bella generally because she gave the impression that she was better than the rest of us, but I swallowed my pride anyway. “Did something happen?” I asked, almost running to catch up with her. Bella was six feet tall, a giant compared to my five feet five height.
She rolled her eyes. “Something like you showing up late at work and sleeping when you should be working? Yeah.”
A knot tied in my stomach. “Is Ms. Klein very mad?”
“Can’t you tell?”
We walked into Ms. Klein’s office, and my heart sank further when my eyes met her.
Bella excused herself, leaving me and Ms. Klein alone in the office. Ms. Klein was a blonde-haired and blue-eyed woman in her fifties. She was the CEO of Klein Media, one of the top-rising media agencies in Chicago.
She’d started the company after her divorce from her ex-husband. They’d been married for twenty-three years before the divorce, and she’d started Klein Media to distract her from her heartache. You’d think she’d understand how someone's personal life could affect them professionally, but no, she ran the company with an iron fist.
“Good morning, Ms. Klein,” I greeted, forcing a smile on my face despite the trembling in my hands.
She flickered her cold gaze to me, and my smile died instantly. “I assume you already know why I asked to see you. Don’t you?”
Sweat formed on my forehead. “I do.” I’d lost my voice because my reply came out as a whisper.
“Good.” She sat back in her chair and threaded her fingers together. “Your ads have had minimal engagements over the last two weeks, and the sales are even lower than they used to be. It appears you’re not putting in enough work to create catchy campaigns, which you need to work on.”
“I’m sorry, Ms. Klein.”
“I know you’re sorry, but that doesn’t cut it. You have until the end of the month to up your game, or you’re out for good.”
