The soft glow of the morning sun streamed through the windows, painting golden streaks across the room and directly on my face. I groaned, regretting not pulling the curtains shut before going to bed. The sunlight was relentless, nudging me awake as I sat up in bed and ran a hand through my messy hair.
The faint aroma of food wafted into my room, and I froze. The rich scent of something delicious cooking tickled my senses, but it didn't make sense—I lived alone. My stomach flipped. Who was in my kitchen?
The events of last night began to replay in disjointed flashes. The rejection at the restaurant by Damien still stung. I had downed a glass of wine—or was it two?—and then… nothing. My memory was a complete blank.
My pulse quickened. Did I do something reckless? No, I couldn't have. A one-night stand? Impossible. That would destroy my company's image and hand my enemies the perfect scandal to exploit and beside i look down at myself i was still dressed as i was last seeing that made me cool my nerve.
Shoving the thoughts aside, I swung my legs off the bed and hurried toward the kitchen, still wearing my wrinkled pajamas. My bare feet padded across the wooden floor as I braced myself for whatever—or whoever—I would find.
When I reached the kitchen, I froze at the sight before me. A tall figure stood at the stove, flipping pancakes like it was the most natural thing in the world. He was dressed casually in black trousers and a white, rolled-up shirt with an apron tied around his waist. For a moment, my heart leaped. Damien? Had he come back?
"Damien?" I called out, a hopeful smile breaking across my face as I stepped closer.
The figure turned, and my smile vanished.
"Still hallucinating, I see," came the voice of Christian, my childhood friend. He smirked as he flipped another pancake onto a plate.
I blinked, my confusion evident. "Christian? What—what are you doing here?"
He raised an eyebrow, his smirk widening. "I see you're disappointed it's not who you were expecting."
"It's not like that," I muttered, quickly looking away. "Must be the alcohol messing with me."
I sat down at the dining table, which was attached to the open kitchen, still trying to piece everything together. Before I could ask more questions, Christian placed a plate in front of me.
"Breakfast is ready. Pancakes, scrambled eggs, bacon, and some fresh fruit," he announced with a touch of mock formality. "But before you eat, do us all a favor—freshen up. You look like a wreck, and honestly, you stink."
I shot him a glare. "Why can't you ever talk in a sweet tone?"
He shrugged. "I could, but then I wouldn't be me. Besides, you deserve it after last night."
I froze, the fork halfway to my mouth. "Last night?"
Christian leaned against the counter, crossing his arms. "Yeah. You don't remember, do you?"
I racked my brain, trying to pull the memories from the fog of alcohol. "The wine was good," I said hesitantly, "so maybe I had more than my limit. But how did I get home?"
Christian sighed, shaking his head. "You're hopeless. Go freshen up first, then we'll talk."
"Oh my God, work!" I exclaimed, jumping to my feet. "I totally forgot I have work today!"
Christian didn't even flinch at my outburst. "You're late. Not exactly CEO behavior, but hey, what do I know?"
I glared at him again. "Look who's talking. You shouldn't even be here. Do you have any idea what kind of scandal this could cause if anyone found out? The reporters would have a field day!"
He smirked, his tone light but teasing. "Let them talk. 'Prestigious law firm CEO caught cooking breakfast in the studio apartment of Elena Ellison.' Sounds intriguing, doesn't it?"
I groaned. "You're impossible."
Ignoring his teasing, I rushed back to my room to shower and prepare for the day.
...
My Washroom
Under the stream of warm water, I allowed myself a moment to breathe. The events of last night were still blurry, but the here and now demanded my attention. I couldn't afford to dwell on my embarrassment—or Christian's uninvited presence—for too long.
After my shower, I quickly dried off and picked out a simple outfit: a crisp white blouse and black trousers. As the CEO of Ellison Enterprises, I needed to look the part, even if I felt like a mess inside.
I pulled my hair back into a sleek ponytail, checked my reflection in the mirror, and grabbed my purse before heading back to the kitchen.
*******
Back in the Kitchen
Christian was still in the kitchen, now cleaning up. The smell of breakfast lingered in the air, making my stomach rumble.
"I didn't realize how late I was," I admitted as I sat down and started eating.
Christian sat across from me, his expression unusually serious. "Don't worry about it. You'll still be the boss when you get there. Besides, you know I've got your back."
His words made me pause. Christian had always been my rock, ever since we were kids. But something about his tone today felt different—deeper, more personal.
"Thank you," I said softly, looking at him.
He shrugged, his usual smirk returning. "Don't get all mushy on me now."
I laughed, shaking my head. "You're impossible."
As I finished my breakfast, the question that had been nagging me finally slipped out. "Christian, what really happened last night?"
He leaned back in his chair, his gaze steady. "You had one too many drinks, called me, and I came to pick you up. That's all."
I frowned, sensing there was more to the story, but I decided not to press. "Well, thanks for being there. Again."
"Always," he replied simply.
*********
Reflections
As I grabbed my things and prepared to leave, I couldn't shake the feeling that something had shifted between us. Christian was still the same teasing, reliable friend, but there was a seriousness in his eyes I hadn't noticed before.
Shaking off the thought, I opened the door and stepped into the day. Whatever had happened last night was behind me, and the challenges of being a CEO and also how to face Damien lay ahead.
For now, that was enough.