The amount of email was slowly giving me a headache. Since it was a peak season, many companies, clothing lines, and entertainment programs were reaching out to offer collaboration contracts.

The King Enterprise was owned by a sole person — Evander King. He was a genius who had a master's degree in Business and Management from Harvard University. Except from the basic knowledge of his education and his position as the CEO of The King Enterprise, there was no other information about him on the internet — not even his picture The company's history itself was unknown. However, they know about their clean and successful business. They also often scouted small businesses and offered the owner a deal.

The owner would be offered some specific training based on their industry. If the CEO was satisfied with their results, he would pay for the initial capital for their businesses under The King Enterprise's name. The business owner would get 80% of the business, while the company would get 20%. It was really beneficial.

"What are you frowning about?" a feminine voice asked, making me squeak in surprise.

"Nothing," I shook my head to clear my wandering thoughts, "Just an ocean of email."

Carla chuckled, "Yeah. They are relentless. I think I'm too old for this shit."

Carla was the head of Public Relations and one of the most sassy ladies I'd ever met. I worked under her for two and a half years. Let me tell you, she was savage when she wanted something. And I loved that about her.

Sometimes, she reminded me of my grand-mère. She passed away when I was still in high school. I had always admired her. Even in her old age, she was still an intelligent and confident woman.

"Carla, you are not that old," I giggled as I tucked my blonde white hair behind my ear — although people call it platinum hair nowadays.

When I was born, my parents and the doctor thought that I was an albino because of my white hair. The weird thing was I'd never had any skin or eye conditions that people with albinism usually endure. If I had sun exposure, I would tan quickly. However, the tan would gradually fade without leaving freckles or any marks on my pale skin.

"Don't butter me up," she rolled her eyes, "I'm fifty-five years old for fuck's sake."

"Yup. And you still look beautiful and radiant," I grinned at her.

Carla just shook her head, but her lips twitched to a smile. She really looked for her age. Her laugh lines around her eyes only made her look more experienced in life. She was a beautiful and confident woman. I hoped I age like her.

"Anyway," Carla said, "Mr. Rivera wants you in his office."

My heart stopped. Gulping hard, I looked at Carla with wide eyes. Why on earth did The President of The King's Enterprise want me? I really didn't want to get fired. If I remembered correctly, I had not done anything wrong.

Carla laughed at my expression, "Calm your tits. He probably wants you to attend some party with him."

"What party?" I breathed, not really believing her statement.

"Business party, of course," she shrugged, "I usually accompany him, but I don't think I can stay up late anymore. Now, go to his office before he gets impatient."

"Right!" I stood up from my chair and rushed to the elevator.

Mr. Rivera was a kind but stern man. There was something about him that demanded our respect. Unfortunately, with his handsome face and fit body, there were plenty of female employees that threw themselves at him even though he already had a wife. Poor Mrs. Rivera had to come at least once a week to stake her claim on her husband.

Knocking at the door twice, I waited for permission to enter. The faint permission was heard and I slowly opened the door. Nerves filled my body as I stepped inside the office.

"Please, take a seat," he said as he straightened his posture behind his desk.

Following his request, I took a seat while fidgeting with the end of my dress. There was a glint of amusement in his eyes that made me relax slightly on my seat. At least, he was in a good mood.

"Why are you so nervous, Ms. Jourdain?" Mr. Rivera asked with a small smile on his lips.

"I don't know, Sir. I believe I had done anything wrong. Just please don't fire me, Sir," I blurted out the words with my French accent that starting to get more and more prominent each time I was nervous.

There was a moment of silence before he chuckled at my response. Well, good to know he wasn't going to fire me then.

"I'm not going to fire you, Ms. Jourdain," he said as he slid off an invitation closer to me on his desk, "This is a gala invitation. It's an annual gathering for business owners —tycoons mostly. I want you to accompany me since Carla couldn't. And you are the most compatible one after Carla for this kind of event. The Gala will be held within four days."

"A gala?" I gapped at him, "Sir, I have never attended a gala before. I don't even have an appropriate dress."

"Don't worry," he chuckled, "The company will cover the cost. Save the receipt and give it to the finance later."

"Okay. Thank you, Sir," I said quietly, there was one more question though, "What do you need me for, Sir? Do you need me to make some connections?"

"You are correct. We need a short collaboration with a promising fashion channel," he explained, "We just got a potential designer. If everything goes smoothly, he will be collaborating with Fiore for her next collection."

The information made me beam at him like a lunatic. I always loved fashion. Since I was twelve years old, I have tried to design new clothing. Of course, a twelve-year-old me thought that my drawings were perfect. I cringed as I remembered how bad my drawings were. Thankfully, within time, it got better.

As long as I remembered, I felt like I wasn't complete. My heart was longing for something I had yet to understand. Even with the hollow in my heart, I tried to be positive that someday I'd find the missing piece. To fill the hollowness, designing clothes became one of my escapes that I was finally addicted to.

"What are you smiling about, Ms. Jourdain?" Mr. Allen's voice broke my muse.

"Nothing, Sir," I grinned at him, "I just get excited about fashion."

I wished sometime in the future I could really make my design come to reality, even if it wasn't profitable. I just wanted to see my design in real life.

He chuckled at my antics, "Okay. Off you go. Don't forget to buy the dress, Ms. Jourdain."

"Got it, Sir," I stood up from my seat and walked out of the office with a broad smile still plastered on my face.

Who would've thought I would go to a gala and be in the same room with business tycoons? I couldn't wait to experience this. I had a feeling it would be a hell of an experience.