Weekends were never an excuse for Vic to become idle. In fact, his Saturdays were always packed with business meetings ever since he took the CEO position. That day was no exception and he ended up going home late as usual.
Wearily, he got on the elevator and was about to press the button to close it when he saw a woman staggering towards him. Being the gentleman, he kept the door open and waited for her.
It was only when she stumbled inside that he was able to take a good look at her.
"Anya?" he blurted in surprise as the door closed.
She looked at him and laughed, waving at him. "Oh. Hi. It's you."
She walked to the elevator panel beside him to press a button when she suddenly lost balance. Vic quickly moved to catch her.
Her face was close. Too close.
Her eyelashes were long and curled. Looking into her hazel eyes, he felt like he would drown in them if he spent a second more on them. He tried to look away, but his eyes landed on her pink lips…
Vic swallowed involuntarily.
He could feel her warm breath on him, and it was then that he noticed the smell of whiskey.
"You're drunk," he said as he helped her up.
"No, I'm not," she replied, pouting.
Vic swore under his breath. That pout was dangerous.
She pushed herself off and stretched out a hand to the panel, then paused. "That's strange. It's already lit," she murmured.
She looked at Vic, who kept his back on the wall, then walked to the other end of the elevator.
It stopped at the lobby where a man stepped in and stood near Anya. When Vic saw he kept looking at Anya in a suspicious manner, he held out a hand and called her over.
Anya stuck her tongue out and laughed at him. The man smirked.
Ignoring him, Vic took Anya's hand and pulled her to him, placing an arm around her protectively. He glared at the man, who scowled in turn.
Anya wrapped her arms around his waist and buried her head in his chest, giggling.
Vic could feel his cheeks getting warm. "Be good and stop squirming," he said softly.
When the man finally got off at the 12th floor, Vic dropped his hand and tried to push Anya away. Anya, however, squeezed him tighter.
Soon, the door opened once again on the 18th floor. Anya glanced at the door.
"Eh, why isn't anyone coming in?" she asked. She looked up at the lighted part of the panel. "Oh. It's my floor." She giggled, then pulled herself away from Vic. "Bye, Mister." She said as she staggered out of the elevator.
Vic gave an exasperated smile, then took one arm and placed it over his shoulder, helping her out.
"Hey, Mister, why are you following me?"
"I'm not following you. This is also my floor."
Vic dragged her to the left side of the elevator and placed her in front of her door. There are only two units per floor and his was just across the hall, on the right side of the elevator. He had just opened the door when he felt a tug on his shirt.
He turned and saw Anya pouting. "Your home is over there," he said, pointing at the door on the other side.
"I don't know the code," she said, looking down, pointer finger on both hands touching repeatedly.
"What do you mean you don't know the code?" he asked in exasperation.
"Forgot."
"Did you even try?"
She nodded her head, then confidently raised three fingers. Vic stared at the ceiling and groaned.
Three tries, and the door's security system will lock down and can only be opened from the inside or with a spare key. Otherwise, only the building's security company can open it, meaning they will have to wait until morning for their office to open.
Seeing the door open, Anya trudged into the room, then crashed on the nearest sofa. Vic took one look at her and shook her head.
He opened a door and turned on the lights inside. Then he went back to the living room. He hooked one arm under Anya's knees and another across her back, then carried her to the guest room.
He laid her gently on the bed, then carefully removed her shoes. As he was covering her with a blanket, Anya suddenly wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him to her.
Vic's face landed beside her neck and his nose was instantly hit by the scent of jasmine flowers.
Forcing himself to stay sober, he pulled her arms away and got off, quickly tucking her into the blanket.
Anya must have felt comfortable by then because she gave him a contented smile, then said, "Goodnight."
Vic chuckled. Cute.
He stood up, turned off the light, then went out of the room, closing the door behind him.
—-------------------------
Anya woke up the next day with a bad headache. She sat up on the bed, cradling her head, when she felt like something was wrong. She forced her eyes to focus and looked around. It was then that she realized she was not in her room.
Where the hell was she? It definitely didn't look like her condo unit. Her eyes went wide open when she thought of something that made her look underneath the blanket. When she saw she was still fully clothed, she breathed a sigh of relief.
She got off the bed, picked up her shoes, then carefully opened the door just enough to peek at the other side. What she saw was a living room with a big white couch. The decor was minimalistic bordering on spartan. More importantly, there seemed to be no one around. The place was so quiet she could almost hear a pin drop.
Quietly, she tiptoed out of the room, barefoot, making a bee-line to what she assumed to be the front door. She was just about to reach the foyer when suddenly…
"Good morning!" a voice suddenly came from the kitchen.