Annie woke with a start, her heart pounding in her chest. The dream was still vivid, a dream she wouldn't mind having in normal circumstances. Joseph Beckley's face, how could she be dreaming of a sensual dance with him? If he was to be in her dream, it should be of her stabbing him to death.
She stumbled into the bathroom, splashing cold water on her face. The lingering effects of the sleepless night left her feeling irritable and cranky. She poured herself a large cup of coffee, the caffeine a desperate attempt to shake off the lingering passion of the dream.
"Rough night?" Toolz asked, raising an eyebrow as she entered the kitchen.
Annie nodded, her voice muffled by the mug. "Just weird dreams."
Penelope looked up from her newspaper, a curious expression on her face. "Oh?" she replied, her tone light.
Annie took a deep breath. "I just don't want to run into Joseph this morning," she said, more to herself than to her friends. "I'm not in the mood."
Toolz and Penelope exchanged a curious glance. They knew how Annie felt about Joseph, or at least they thought they did. But this avoidance behavior was something new.
As she stepped out of the elevator, her heart sank. Standing in the hallway, blocking her path, was Joseph Beckley and his imposing right-hand man. A wave of panic washed over her. She had been hoping to avoid him all morning.
Hesitation flickered across her face as she considered her options. Retreating would be seen as suspicious, but facing him head-on felt like walking into a lion's den. Before she could decide, the elevator doors slid shut, leaving her stranded on the landing.
A surge of frustration swept over her. This was exactly what she wanted to avoid. She turned to face the office, her mind racing.
Meanwhile, after entering the elevator, Joseph had a distinct feeling of déjà vu as the elevator doors closed in. There was something about the woman he had seen that sparked his interest.
"Who was that?" he asked his right-hand man, Ghost.
Ghost glanced at the woman, his expression neutral. "Just an intern from the seventh floor," he replied.
Joseph frowned. Something about the woman seemed familiar. He could have sworn he'd seen her before, perhaps at the party. He racked his brain, trying to place her.
As the elevator doors opened on his floor, Joseph stepped out, lost in thought. He had to figure out who this woman was and why she seemed so familiar.
The woman from the party had been captivating, a mystery he was eager to solve. There was an allure to her that intrigued him, something beyond just physical attraction. And for the first time in a huge while, he hadn't had a nightmare.
He turned to Ghost. "Keep an eye on her," he instructed. "I want to know everything about her."
Ghost nodded, his expression impassive. "On it, boss."
As Joseph walked down the corridor, his mind raced. He needed to find out more about this woman, to understand the pull he felt towards her. And he had a nagging suspicion that she was the one at the party, the shape of her body, the eyes, the tilt of her lips, he couldn't be mistaken. But how did she get into the party?
He reached his office and sat down at his desk, his mind still on the mysterious woman. A thought occurred to him. Could it be his uncle, Andrew, who had sent her? The old man had a penchant for meddling in his affairs. He heaved a sigh and was soon drowned in work.
Meanwhile, in the office on the top floor, Andrew Beckley sat behind his desk, a wry smile playing on his lips as he watched a replay of the welcome party. The party, meant to boost Joseph's image and stop investor anxieties, had been a success, at least on the surface. But Andrew, with his keen eye for detail, saw beneath the ordinary.
His gaze was drawn to a particular segment of the footage, where Joseph was lost in a dance with a woman. There was an undeniable spark between them, and this intrigued Andrew.
He paused the footage, studying the woman's face. She was striking, with an air of intelligence and defiance that piqued his interest. He leaned forward, zooming in on the image.
A cold smile crept across his face. This woman could be useful. Another pawn in this game to load over Joseph. He picked up the phone and dialed a number.
"Send the lady in," he commanded.
The line went dead, leaving him alone with his thoughts. He leaned back in his chair, his eyes fixed on the image of the woman. She was a wild card, and he intended to play her to his advantage.