Callum;)
She consumed my every thought. I wasn't lying when I whispered that to myself. It was frustrating how I couldn't get her out of my head. I couldn't fathom why I was so fixated on her. She was supposed to be a brief business acquaintance, nothing more.
So when I came across the records at work indicating that a certain publishing company was seeking a partnership, I found myself heading to meet the CEO, secretly hoping to catch a glimpse of her. And I wasn't disappointed.
There she sat behind the desk, her long brown hair falling gracefully as she focused on her computer screen. I couldn't help but notice her beauty, though I despised myself for acknowledging it.
The night at the club had been far from a mistake. I might have had a few drinks, but I was completely sober when I kissed Gianna. Yet, I'd never admit that to anyone. I had to do something when she accused me of being a monster who had brutally attacked someone.
To be fair, that someone was Jameson Smith.
Tate Jamison, the son of Jakob Smith, also known as my rival in several of my business ventures, particularly in the hotel industry. He managed to attract a similar clientele as my own, and he was nothing short of a pain. Jameson and I had a scheduled business meeting that night to discuss a potential hotel deal. We had agreed to meet at the club, a neutral and public venue. The room we used was a makeshift office/conference room for club officials, prearranged for our discussion.
Things were proceeding smoothly, even though I couldn't stand him. I was maintaining politeness until he made a comment about my sister. I lost my sister in a car accident when we were both just ten years old. The world seemed to grieve with us. My parents, powerful figures in their respective fields, had been media darlings, and at the time, I loved our family. But that love died when Danielle, my sister, did. The day after her death, I stopped talking to my parents, and as soon as I made a name for myself, I cut ties with them for good.
So when that despicable man mentioned my sister's name and made a snide remark about how she would have been the better sibling to talk to, even hotter, I lost control. It was precisely at that moment that Gianna walked in.
I wasn't inclined to explain myself to a stranger who had entered the room by mistake. Instead, I issued a threat, and in hindsight, she was better off with that.
"Sir, the program starts at 8," my assistant Rebecca informed me as she arranged the room.
I sighed, returning to the present moment. I had arrived early to set up the room and avoid the embarrassment of being late, as I had been last time. I also wanted to brace myself for the possibility of encountering Gianna again. My behavior had been that of an immature teenager, and it was getting on my nerves.
"Alright, you can start letting them in as they arrive," I instructed Rebecca as I powered on the projector.
About 15 minutes later, people began to enter the room, and my eyes remained fixed on the door, awaiting one particular person. I felt like a pathetic loser.
But when she finally walked in, I had to avert my gaze to avoid letting my eyes wander down her long, smooth legs. She wore a short skirt and blouse, and her hair was tied up.