Keith's perspective
I grunted, lifting the weights, my muscles burning from the intense workout. Sweat dripped from my brow, and my breathing synchronized with the rhythmic clang of metal on metal. The gym was my sanctuary, where I cleared my mind and pushed my limits.
"Keith, you have a meeting with the shareholders in three hours," my personal assistant, Ethan, announced, his deep voice piercing the gym's intense atmosphere.
I set the weights down, wiping my face with a towel. My eyes narrowed, already focusing on the meeting.
"Remind me again, what's on the agenda?" I asked, my voice firm.
"Discussion of the company's quarterly profits and the proposed expansion into the Asian market," Ethan replied, his eyes scanning his tablet.
I nodded, my mind racing. This meeting could make or break our expansion plans.
"Get the reports ready. I want to review them before the meeting," I instructed.
"Already done, sir," Ethan said, producing a slim folder from his bag. "Your driver will arrive at 1:45 PM to take you to the conference center."
I took the folder, flipping through the pages. Numbers and graphs blurred together as my thoughts turned to the meeting's potential outcomes.
What other challenges would the shareholders throw my way?
"Ethan, what's the mood among the shareholders?" I asked my gaze still on the reports.
"Optimistic," he replied. "There are concerns about the Asian market's volatility, but overall, they're impressed with the company's growth."
I nodded, tucking the folder under my arm. It's time to address those concerns.
"Book me a call with Marketing to review our strategy," I instructed.
"Yes, sir." Ethan nodded, jotting down notes on his tablet.
As Ethan departed, I returned to my workout, and my intensity renewed. The shareholders' meeting was just another challenge to conquer.
I've been trapped in a life I never wanted, forced to wear the mask of a successful businessman. As the sole heir to my father's empire, my mother's expectations suffocated me. But what she doesn't know is that I possess a secret: the ability to time travel.
For as long as I can remember, I've been able to traverse the timeline, visiting both the past and the future. But my gift remains hidden, locked away from the world. The one time I dared to reveal it to my mother, she had me committed to a psychiatric hospital for months. No one believed me.
Recently, everything changed. I lost the ability to travel back in time, leaving me with only the power to glimpse the future. I'm consumed by questions: What triggered this change? Why can't I reverse it?
I wished for someone to share my secret with, someone who'd believe me.
As I finished my workout, My mind suddenly wandered to the mysterious woman I gave a ride to the other day. I wondered if she made it home safely.
* * *
As my driver, James navigated the city streets, I gazed out the window, lost in thought. My mind still lingered on the mysterious woman from the other day.
"Sir, we're approaching the office," James announced.
But my craving for coffee suddenly kicked in.
"James, pull over. I need a coffee."
"Shall I grab it for you, sir?" James offered.
"No, I'll get it myself. Need to stretch my legs."
I opened the door and stepped out into the crisp morning air. The city's energy was already pulsing through me.
"I'll be right back, James."
"Take your time, sir."
I walked into the coffee shop, the aroma enveloping me like a warm hug. The line was short, and I quickly ordered my usual.
"Cappuccino, please," I said to the barista.
She smiled and started brewing my coffee. A few minutes later, she handed me the steaming cup.
"Enjoy your day, sir."
I took a sip, feeling the rich flavors revive me. Ah, just what I needed.
As I stepped outside, a sudden grip on my arms startled me. I turned and my eyes widened as I saw the mysterious lady standing right in front of me.
What a coincidence, I was just thinking about her.
But judging by our last encounter, I took away all her money, I don't think it would be nice to meet her again.
"You're the one," she stated her voice firm.
I attempted to deny it. "You must be mistaken."
Her gaze narrowed. "No, I'm not. Your face is unforgettable."
I tried to wriggle free, but her grasp was surprisingly strong.
"Let me go," I demanded.
She held tight. "Not until you pay me back."
I scowled. "Why should I? The money was part of our deal."
Her eyes flashed. "Our deal changed when you left me stranded."
"I have to go to work," I said, glancing at my wristwatch.
Her eyes followed mine, and she gasped in shock. "A Patek Philippe Calatrava," she whispered, her voice filled with awe.
Her fingers instinctively reached out, tracing the intricate design etched onto the watch's face. "This is... stunning."
I felt a pang of unease as her touch lingered on my wrist. "It's just a watch," I said, trying to downplay its significance.
But she wasn't fooled. "This is a masterpiece," she countered, her eyes sparkling with admiration. "A timepiece fit for royalty."
The Patek Philippe Calatrava, with its sleek white dial and 18k rose gold band, gleamed in the morning light. I'd almost forgotten its value, wearing it as a habit.
"You have exquisite taste," she said, her gaze meeting mine.
I cleared my throat, feeling a flush rise. "It was a gift."
Her eyes held mine for a moment longer before she released my wrist.
"You are Rich, aren't you?" she asked, her eyes sparkling with amusement.
I denied it, attempting to maintain the facade. "No, I'm not."
She raised an eyebrow, skeptical. "Don't lie to me. That wristwatch alone says otherwise."
I hesitated, caught red-handed. "Fine," I admitted, sighing. "I have means. What's your point?"
Her face lit up with excitement. "Today's my lucky day!" She squealed, her eyes shining.
I arched an eyebrow, perplexed. "What do you mean?"
She batted her lashes, her voice husky. "What do you think about making me your girlfriend?"
I frowned, taken aback. "You're a gold digger, aren't you?"
She shrugged, unapologetic. "I am. So, will you make this gold digger your girlfriend?"