Logan's POV
After an entire day of extremely boring activities, I finally made it back to the car, and the driver promptly drove me to the apartment—with Soraya, of course. Naturally, she was with me since she's my manager and the one who handles everything.
It was only then that I could finally check my phone. To my surprise, there were countless messages from Shasha, and my heart raced as I hurriedly read them one by one.
Shasha the Cutest: Logan… I think we're in trouble.
Shasha the Cutest: Logan, remember when you forcibly carried me? Someone took a photo of it and shared it on social media. I've messaged them to take it down before it spreads further, but it seems they won't cooperate.
Shasha the Cutest: I'm sure this will have serious consequences for your career… It'll become gossip, and it might also reflect poorly on me. Your sister-in-law will surely be furious with me!
Shasha the Cutest: Please… Do something before this misunderstanding escalates further.
Shasha the Cutest: Maybe you're busy… Okay. Take your time…
I exhaled sharply and quickly checked social media. There were numerous accounts tagging my name to bring my attention to a post. It turned out to be the photo of me carrying Shasha in the apartment building where she lives.
There were countless comments from girls, with emojis ranging from frowning to crying and broken hearts, mixed with laughter. Many speculated about the story behind the photo. I looked at the picture again but found myself focusing on Shasha's expression as I carried her. For some reason, she looked so beautiful, almost as if she were mesmerized by me.
"Logan… What is this?"
Soraya's question snapped me out of my thoughts. I turned to her since she was seated right next to me. She was showing me her phone.
"What were you thinking? Who's that girl? Are you out of your mind, dating someone when you're at the peak of your career? When so many girls adore you because you're single… and handsome? Don't you realize that if you date, they might lose interest in you?" Soraya bombarded me with questions and criticism.
I remained silent, my eyes fixed on the photo. The post had thousands of comments, likes, and shares. This was exactly what Shasha feared, and it made me worry about how uncomfortable she must feel.
"Logan!"
"What?"
I turned to see Soraya's annoyed expression. "It's just a photo, and the caption is completely false. Don't act like a gullible netizen who believes everything they see. Don't make assumptions until I give you an explanation… Don't jump to conclusions just because of a caption!" I asserted.
She sighed, a hint of regret on her face. I handed her phone back to her lap and looked ahead.
"Then explain to me who she is," she demanded.
I stayed silent, staring straight ahead, trying to figure out how to resolve this issue.
"Logan…"
"Shut up, Soraya!" I shot her a glance, her overdone lipstick and oily face repulsing me. "I'll address this situation. You don't need to worry."
"Yes, but you could tell me now—"
"I'll make a clarification, but not to you!" I cut her off firmly.
She shook her head and smiled faintly. "Not to me, but after you tell me, I can provide answers to anyone who asks about you… because your fans know I'm your manager. They'll bombard me with questions, assuming I know everything about you."
"Oh, to hell with that!" I waved her off dismissively, turning my face away. "I don't care. I'll handle my clarification, and don't think you know everything about my life. You're just here to guide me to success." I exhaled harshly, unwilling to look at her any longer. She remained quiet.
Minutes later, Mark stopped the car. I got out and slammed the door shut, but the window rolled down quickly, revealing Soraya's face.
"Logan… I know you hate being controlled, but clarifying this quickly will save your career," she advised.
I stayed silent, sick of seeing her face, and walked toward the building's main entrance guarded by security. Luckily, the area was quiet—no paparazzi or fans unexpectedly showing up for photos. Or perhaps it was simply too late at night. Shasha was probably already resting, which meant I couldn't contact her now.
I walked through the corridor, into the elevator, and finally arrived at the apartment. What greeted me inside was a sight I didn't expect.
She was here, curled up on the sofa, hugging her small bag.
"Shasha…" I approached her slowly, letting the door close automatically behind me. My eyes couldn't stop admiring her face, her naturally tinted lips, and her always-simple but elegant outfit. She's cute…
I sat on the edge of the sofa and gently brushed her hair. Suddenly, she stirred awake and quickly sat up, startled by my presence.
"You're home," she said nervously, patting her cheeks and fixing her slightly messy hair. "I know I shouldn't be here… I'm really sorry, but—"
"Is this all because you're scared of your photo going viral?" I interrupted before she could finish.
She nodded, her brows furrowing.
"Of course. We need to discuss this… I don't want people misunderstanding the photo… or us."
"Us?"
"Um…" She fell silent, then averted her gaze, lowering her head slightly. "I mean… there's nothing between us. I just want people to know that I'm just the housekeeper cleaning this apartment…" She looked back at me, her expression innocent but hopeful, which only made her seem even cuter.
I stood and walked toward the glass wall, contemplating how to make her beg, to agree to anything I wanted.
"Logan…"
She called me, but my eyes were fixed on the breathtaking city lights outside—the buildings, billboards, cars, and other lights illuminating New York.
"Please do something before your sister-in-law contacts me and scolds me…" she pleaded in her sweet voice. I turned to see her standing with her bag, looking so charming that I wanted to forget she was 29. "I think clarifying this soon would help your career too."
"I don't want to say you're a housekeeper here," I said.
She frowned instantly.
"In fact… I no longer see you as just a housekeeper," I added as I approached her, stopping just inches away. She tilted her head back, and our eyes met.
I couldn't hide my smile. My hand reflexively cupped her chin, making her look up at me. Silence hung between us, but I could feel her tension. It made me wonder if she was as mesmerized by me as I was by her.
Forget it—her beautiful lips were irresistible. I instinctively leaned in, but she quickly pushed my chest.
"Logan!" She stepped back, glaring, her breaths uneven. "Are you trying to disrespect me? You're crazy! I came here to resolve this issue, not to make it worse!" she exclaimed, anger spilling out at last.
I froze, unsure of what to say. I didn't even know why this was happening, why I couldn't control myself around her.
"What's wrong with you? Are you drunk? Have you started taking meds to boost your stamina and lost your mind?" Her unexpected questions made me feel like a complete jerk.
"Please… do something!" she pleaded, sadness evident in her eyes. "I don't want your sister-in-law to be angry with me… and I don't want this to hurt your career."
"If what they're gossiping about us were true, would that be so wrong?" The words slipped out of my mouth before I could stop them. Was this too soon? No… I didn't think so. I'd never felt this way about any girl but her.
"What?" She narrowed her eyes.
"Shasha…" I swallowed hard, biting my lip as my heart raced and my hands began to sweat.
"What are you saying? Stop dragging me into this!" she insisted before being distracted by her phone ringing.
She hastily pulled it from her small bag and answered the call.
"Roger?" she said the name of a man, and for some reason, it ignited a fire in my chest.
"Really? Alright, I'll head there."
She turned back to me after ending the call.
"Who is he? Where are you going?" I couldn't stop myself from asking.
She paused, staring at me intently. "This isn't your business… and I hope you make a clarification soon," she said before rushing out.
"Shasha!"
I reached out but forced myself not to follow her, realizing how strange my actions were. Of course, it was unsettling and likely made her think I was harassing her.
"I don't know…"
I collapsed onto the sofa, leaning back and clutching my head as an ache formed. I couldn't stop thinking about her or wondering what she was going to do with the guy named Roger?