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"True, but you do have a connection through me. And remember that you're a talented writer with such a pretty face. That should count for something.”
A knock on the door interrupted our conversation.
"That must be our dinner," Allan said, a smile on his face.
He went to answer the door. The scent of Chinese takeout filled the air as he opened the door. Allan paid the delivery guy, and I gave him an extra tip.
Glancing at my watch, I realized the time had slipped away.
"Oh no, I need to get home. It's late already, and I haven't fed my cat," I exclaimed, a sense of urgency creeping in.
Allan nodded in understanding while rubbing his wrist absentmindedly.
"You're right; I still have bite marks from the last time I tried to feed Teddy. Let me drive you home on the way to my place," he offered kindly.
I thanked him, and we hurriedly packed the leftover art supplies from his afternoon painting session. As we stepped outside withour bags of Chinese food, the sky was painted orange and pink, signaling the approaching evening.
The drive from Allan's studio to my apartment building went by in a blur as I focused on eating as much chicken as I could fit in my mouth. Allan swerved around other cars on the highway.
When we finally got to my apartment building, I gathered my things and hopped out of his Aston Martin.
He took off, promising to call me later and blowing me a kiss. I waved until he disappeared into the heavy traffic.
With a sigh, I headed inside, my heart still racing from the events of the evening.
My furry and ever-loyal companion, Teddy, greeted me with an enthusiastic meow. I laughed as I scooped him up.
Moments like these grounded me, reminding me of the simple joys in life.
After freshening up, I changed into my comfiest pajamas and settled onto the couch. A wave of nervous energy still washed over me, making it impossible to consider going to bed.
Instead, I decided to distract myself by watching a movie and finishing the rest of my dinner, hoping it would calm my racing thoughts.
Just as the movie began, a soft beep emanated from my phone.
I glanced at the screen, my heart skipping a beat as I read the incoming message from Allan.
Allen
He said yes. Wednesday 7 p.m.
He said yes. Alexander Hartman agreed to the interview. I felt excitement, joy, and a touch of anxiety.
I quickly typed out a reply.
That's amazing! Thank you so much. I owe you dinner.
Teddy curled up beside me, his rhythmic purring providing a soothing backdrop to my racing thoughts.
I leaned back and stared at the ceiling as emotions swirled within me—excitement, anticipation, and a healthy dose of nerves. The interview was just two days away, and I knew I needed to be well-prepared.
With newfound determination and sleep the furthest from my mind, I pulled out my laptop. I wanted to dive deeper, to uncover every aspect of Alexander’s life and his impact on the world.
The hours passed in a blur as I immersed myself in articles, videos, and profiles, all to truly understand the man behind the headlines.
As the clock ticked on, I found myself lost in thought, pacing the room, envisioning the interview and the questions I would ask.
My heart raced with excitement but also a quiet sense of apprehension.
